Dark Longing_A Novel of the Dark Ones

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Dark Longing_A Novel of the Dark Ones Page 23

by Aja James


  Another pause. “And yes.”

  Arrghhh! She wanted to scream, even more so that the creature seemed to treat everything like a game, replying in that sing-songy voice that was neither feminine nor masculine, and yet both at the same time.

  “You can’t be human,” she said through gritted teeth.

  The creature seemed to consider this, then replied, “I suppose not. If I ever had any humanity, which I don’t know that I ever did, I lost it a long, long time ago.”

  “Show me your true face,” she demanded, advancing upon the creature until she stood between its open thighs, bearing down upon it with hands fisted at her sides.

  Unconcerned with her irate mood, shrouded in violence, it tilted its head elegantly to one side and said, “I am not sure I have one. Isn’t it better to be someone else? Anyone else?”

  The vampire forcefully gripped its beautiful face, her nails digging into its cheeks. “Then show me Jade Cicada, my abomination. I want to fuck her until she bleeds. This is your payment to me for services rendered. Within the week you will get the result you desire.”

  The creature smiled ruefully as its visage changed into that of the Dark Queen.

  “Will I?” it whispered as the vampire descended upon it.

  *** *** *** ***

  “When will I go back to school?” Benji inquired, squeezed in between Inanna and Gabriel in the Aventador. “I miss my friends.”

  Inanna made a mental note to invest in a larger vehicle, at least a mid-size sedan.

  Clearly, her lifestyle needed to change with a five-year-old in tow. At least the ride had almost opaque black-tinted windows, so that law enforcement wouldn’t see enough to pull them over for child endangerment.

  Not that most cops would expect to see a child riding shotgun in the Lamborghini in the first place.

  “You’re taking a long winter break,” Gabriel said from the passenger side. “You’ve just discovered that your parents are vampires and made new friends with elves. Isn’t that awesome? We’re on our way to see them now.”

  Benji considered this and came to the same conclusion, but then, “I miss Lamby and Mrs. Sergeyev.”

  “We should receive your things soon,” Inanna said, “and we’ll be sure to pay a visit to your friend.”

  For the time being mollified, Benji requested the radio to be turned to NPR and sat back to enjoy the ride, once in a while asking Inanna what the various buttons on the control panel did.

  After all, what male could resist such a fabulous machine?

  Inanna had received a text early in the morning from Aella that said she had some new information to share about the private conversation they had.

  When they arrived at the Pure Ones’ temporary abode in Morningside Heights, the women would video conference with Eveline Marceau, the Pure Ones’ Seer and makeshift Scribe.

  They had yet to find a replacement for the comrade they had lost in the recent struggle with an anonymous villain.

  Cloud Drako was planning to take the boys to the enormous gym in the basement of the building, which also contained an activity room that was perfect for combat training.

  Inanna and Gabriel had talked about it earlier, and it made sense for Gabriel to hone his skills as a warrior as soon as possible, given the environment they lived in. He already had the foundation, a formidable fighter even in his human life, but he would need to relearn the moves using an upgraded body, so to speak, as well as acquire new ones to win against much stronger foes, some of whom had trained for centuries, even millennia.

  Few warriors were as proficient a trainer as the Valiant, with the exception of Maximus and Valerius.

  Sophia met Inanna and company at the door and immediately took Inanna by the arm, leading her to one of the bedrooms the Pure Ones were using as an office.

  “Eveline is already on video,” Sophia said after brief greetings, “you’ll want to speak to her directly.”

  Introductions were made while Inanna settled into a leather swivel chair around a large round table that seated up to eight.

  Sophia sat in another one, and Aella stood behind her with arms crossed. The only other furnishing in the room was a built-in desk that ran across three out of four walls, one of which was sheer glass, overlooking the courtyard below. On top of the desk were various equipment and gadgets, weapons and electronics.

  In the middle of the round table was a tripod of monitors placed at sixty degree angles to each other.

  One showed live surveillance footage of the building they resided in, as well as the surrounding area within a half kilometer radius. A second displayed various codes of information Inanna could not decipher. And in the third screen a petite, auburn-haired, green-eyed woman stared through the camera as if looking directly at them.

  “Have you had the opportunity to check with your own historian?” Eveline asked after the preliminaries were complete.

  “I have,” Inanna confirmed. “Simone Lafayette, our Keeper, said that the only example in our records was from the height of the Akkadian empire. The Dark Princess chose to Mate with her Blood Slave, who was a Pure One.”

  Eveline nodded. “That is the same example I found in the Zodiac Scrolls. The only example as well.”

  The Seer frowned before continuing. “But our records do not mention a Mating. There was no official account of the event in the Scrolls, in fact. I had to piece together what I read about significant figures in the Great War and unofficial, often not completely reliable histories that are more myths than truths.”

  “But I am relatively confident that such a union took place, at least in terms of the exchange between a Blood Slave and his mistress.”

  Here the Seer spoke with circumspection. Pure Ones did not take the exchange of bodily fluids, be it blood or sex, lightly. Their Cardinal Rule forbade intercourse with anyone but their destined mate. To be a Blood Slave was the ultimate shame and humiliation, for it went against everything the race valued, in addition to being stripped of freedom.

  “Go on,” Inanna urged quietly, knowing full well that they were speaking of her father and mother.

  “The official history only describes how a Champion who used to be a Blood Slave rose to prominence as leader of the Rebellion. He was an example for all other Pure Ones, slave, servant and free. Stories from unofficial sources diverge from there. Some tell of how the Dark Princess fell in love with him and wanted him for her own, that they were not simply Mistress and Slave. Others tell of how he purposely seduced the Princess so that he could learn the Dark Ones’ secrets and better prepare for the ensuing rebellion.”

  Eveline paused and seemed to stare directly into Inanna’s eyes, piercing her with knowledge and insight. “And some stories say that the union resulted in issue. Twins.”

  Inanna looked away, her heart beginning to pound.

  “A girl and a boy,” Eveline went on. “I could find no mention of the boy anywhere, so I assume he had died or perhaps your histories talk of him?”

  “No,” Inanna whispered, “it seems he had perished, perhaps at birth.”

  “The daughter of the Leader of the Rebellion is mentioned at length, though not by name, only that she was well loved among the Pure Ones and adored by her father. It did not read as if anyone suspected she might have a vampire mother, that, in fact, she was the offspring from that union.”

  Inanna could barely breathe. She looked anywhere but at the screen, trying to hide the tears that threatened behind her eyelids.

  “I admit I had to make some assumptions and leaps in judgment. Nothing was spelled out clearly,” the Seer continued. “The stories were extremely vague about the Leader’s time as a Blood Slave, for good reason. That his union with the Princess had issue was almost blasphemy to consider much less write down. Those stories were mainly gathered from personal diaries and private speculation. But many notable Pure scribes recorded the fact that he had a daughter, though the girl’s mother is never mentioned, which in of itself is an anomaly given ou
r laws. There is no record of his Mating with a Pure female. No record of her death, for that would be the only way he could have a daughter and no Mate.”

  “But perhaps because of people’s respect and reverence for him, no one questioned the specifics, and he never volunteered the information. Then, rather abruptly, all records ended about the Leader and his daughter at the time of the Great Siege. No record of whether they lived or died.”

  Eveline paused long enough for Inanna to get a hold of herself and look back at the screen, eyes dry, face an expressionless mask.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t find more,” the Seer said, “this example does not point to anything conclusive about the Mating between a Pure One and a Dark One. I wouldn’t have found even this much had it not been for our previous Scribe…” Eveline trailed off as if a particular painful memory assailed her.

  She took a deep breath and went on, “Orion was Mesopotamian. He was born hundreds of years after the Great War but his accounts were the most timely, and likely the most accurate. Even so, his records say nothing about a Mating, only a union that possibly produced offspring. We can’t be sure the Leader lived because he did not love his Mistress and therefore did not suffer the Decline, or because the union between a Pure and Dark one is valid and sustaining.”

  Inanna knew that Eveline referred to the “curse of the Pure Ones,” as her Kind called it, whereby if one gave oneself completely and in love to another during intercourse, and the other did not reciprocate, the Pure One would die a slow, excruciating death in thirty days.

  Inanna nodded numbly, trying to maintain attention despite the deafening white noise in her ears.

  “Ms. Chastain.”

  Inanna started at her name, focusing once more on the screen.

  “Legend has it that the child of the Leader is the Light-Bringer. Someone who will appear when the world is in turmoil. This person will help us distinguish right and wrong and find the way to the truth. It is written thusly in the Zodiac Prophesies.”

  The Eveline in the screen stared straight into Inanna’s eyes, unblinking, as if willing the significance of her message to sink in.

  “In one of the private journals I found, a noblewoman in the Roman era was recording oral fairytales for her children. The name Inanna came up, just in this one instance, as the daughter of the Leader.”

  At this point, Inanna had forgotten how to breathe. She had a feeling the Pure Ones already knew her ancient name. Just as the Chosen knew theirs.

  Abruptly, Eveline addressed Aella and Sophia, who had not said a word, “I need a moment with Ms. Chastain privately.”

  Without question, though Sophia cast Inanna a lingering glance, the two females exited the room, closing the door with a soft click.

  Inanna’s heart was on its way to pounding out of her chest. She did not ask the Seer to continue. She had no voice to do so.

  “You should know that when I cross-referenced the name Inanna in all of our surviving archives, not just the ones held at the Shield, it only appeared one more time,” the Seer said, and moved her eyes from the camera to navigate the toolbar on her video device.

  A yellowed newsprint came up on the screen. The title indicated an archeological find during an expedition to Japan in 1853. In the sidebar of the article, there were faded pictures of some of the oriental treasures, including a sleek porcelain vase that had no ornamentation save two lines of calligraphy.

  Inanna did not need the Seer to zoom in the image to see clearly what was written. Her own acute vision magnified and focused the words.

  It was not Kanji, the traditional Japanese characters that were Chinese in origin. Instead, it was a stream of block-like symbols that she knew only too well.

  In ancient Akkadian the words read:

  “Inanna, my child. Wait for me. I shall find you, I promise. You are ever in my thoughts and prayers. —Papa.”

  “Seek the light, Dark One, when chaos and confusion obscure the truth. Keep faith, Dark One, against the tribulations that will raise your doubt. Be true, Dark One, to the one you love most in your heart. Even if the world falls apart around you, you will still stand tall.”

  —Excerpt from the Lost Chapters of the Ecliptic Scrolls.

  Chapter Seventeen

  He’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive!

  That was the only thought racing in a never-ending circle in Inanna’s mind. She had not dared to hope, but she had always known that her father was still in this world.

  True, the newspaper dated back to the eighteen hundreds, and the archeological finds must have dated even further in time. But at her cursory glance, the artifacts in the pictures were probably from the fifteenth to seventeenth centuries, during the Sengoku period. That meant that her father had not only survived the Great War, but was alive at least until five hundred years ago.

  He must still be alive somewhere in the world.

  She refused to believe otherwise. And besides, he had promised to find her. Her papa never reneged on promises.

  “Inanna,” the Seer said, “the Sumerian Goddess of sexual love, fertility and warfare. Not a common name.”

  Inanna broke free of her inner turmoil and refocused on the Pure One. Meanwhile, the door opened again to admit Aella and Sophia.

  “You are the daughter described in our histories, are you not?” it was Aella who asked the question.

  “Are you really the Light-Bringer?” Sophia whispered, awe in her voice. “I always knew you had a Pure soul.” The young Queen glanced triumphantly at her personal guard as if to say “I told you so.”

  “You and Gabriel are proof that Dark Ones can also have Pure souls,” Sophia said more excitedly. “The two are not mutually exclusive as we always thought. Maybe your love will win in the end after all, like the Leader and his Princess. I like that version of the story best.”

  Inanna looked around her at the Pure females.

  She was reminded when she was with them what it was like so very long ago when she lived with her father in the Pure Ones’ Fort.

  She had been well known by all the villagers, good friends with many. She was reminded that she never felt like she belonged even after she turned to the vampire side because of her biology. Among the Chosen of the Dark Queen’s court, she was… professional. Each one of them seemed to hold their own counsel, but she had thought that it was vampires’ nature to be aloof and secretive. Now she knew that, in her own case, it was because she was never truly one of them.

  “There is much to discuss,” Aella cut in. “We cannot do it here. I propose that you come with us back to the Shield where we can talk through the implications at length. We would all benefit from the input of the rest of the Dozen.”

  “And of course you must bring your Mate and son,” Sophia invited. “Since we’re unveiling all these lovely discoveries, I should let you know that I sense a Pure soul in Benji as well.”

  Inanna blinked at that.

  Perhaps she had become immune to surprises over the past few days. Hell, it could have been the past few minutes. She no longer even felt winded when someone punched her in the metaphorical gut like that.

  But it did take her a while to find her voice.

  Finally, she said, “I need to discuss this with Gabriel and Benji. Gabriel, especially, has had so much to absorb in such a short period of time. But I will do it soon. I also need to gain a private audience with my Queen.”

  She paused. Perhaps Jade Cicada was no longer her Queen. Did all this mean that Sophia was her rightful Queen? Did one get to choose the side she wanted to be on? Why did one have to choose a side at all?

  “I have not yet decided what to tell her, a subset of the truth or the whole of it. Give me some time,” Inanna requested. “I promise you my answer by the end of the week.”

  *** *** *** ***

  The creature decided, for a change, to bask in the sun this fine winter day.

  It had filled itself on Pure blood and was feeling almost perky as it strode down an alley i
n the Eastern European hoods of Brooklyn.

  It wore one of its favorite human disguises today, that of a young man in his prime.

  A nonprescription pair of Rayban glasses perched on his high-bridged nose, giving him an intellectual air. Completing his effortless high class look were a Calvin-Klein French cuff shirt with rhinestone cufflinks, overlaid with a Chanel mohair sweater, Armani slim-fitted pants and socks, Ferragamo alligator shoes and a long Armani overcoat that was tailored to emphasize his wide shoulders and lean figure.

  An ironic smile tipped the corner of the young man’s face.

  What a ruse.

  What a perfect deception he was having on everyone around him who could not walk by without gawking at his elegance and beauty, as if he were a foreign prince or a world-renowned supermodel stepping out of the pages of a fashion magazine.

  If only they knew just how low he was. How dirty, rotten, and savage. Even cockroaches had a leg up on him.

  The young man stopped in front of a quaint little shop squeezed in between two seemingly towering townhouses. The name “Dark Dreams” was interesting enough to make him pause, and the tantalizing aroma within of freshly brewed spicy tea and sweet breads baking in the oven invited him to stay.

  With a jingle, he opened the shop door and entered, though he did not otherwise announce his arrival. Instead he took time to look around the shop, which had much more space inside than the exterior portended.

  He was fascinated by all the little treasures displayed on the shelves that lined every wall in the square room. He did not touch any, only perusing leisurely with his eyes.

  Half an hour might have gone by and he would not have noticed, so entranced was he by the dazzling and eclectic collection.

  “May I help you, young man?” a warm, feminine voice with a nondescript accent came from behind him.

  The young man turned to face a short, plump, elderly woman with gray-blonde hair twisted in a bun behind her head, reading spectacles hanging loosely around her neck, held by a chain. She was smiling benignly yet curiously at him while wiping her ruddy hands on an apron tied at her waist.

 

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