by Aliya DalRae
The other male was the polar opposite of the first. He was about her height, small for a Vampire, with blond hair she would call sun-kissed had he been any other species. His eyes were the color of the Caribbean Sea, and when they met hers, they gave off a tiny spark of aquamarine light that sent a tingle through her body for entirely different reasons. Nox made introductions, and while her handshake with Viper was brief, Tas pressed his palm to hers for a heartbeat longer than society demanded. The tingle turned into an electric charge and she had to retrieve her hand quickly or risk being lost to his touch.
As they settled in, the Warlord arrived, calling the meeting to order. “Sasha,” he said, “so glad to have you with us.”
“The honor is mine,” Sasha said with what she hoped was a respectful bow of the head.
“Nox tells me you seek asylum with the Legion. Is that correct?”
She shifted in her seat, uncomfortable beneath Mason’s hard, grey stare. “I suppose that’s as good a word as any,” she said. “Really, I’m just looking for a place to stay for a while. Perhaps I may decide I like it here, make Fallen Cross my home, but it’s hard living among the humans. I’ve lived with Vampires my whole life, so you understand.”
“I do.” The Warlord tented his hands beneath his chin, his gaze on parallel with Viper’s in intensity. “And I’m happy to extend to you the Legion’s hospitality. I trust your suite is adequate?”
“Yes, Warlord, it’s lovely. And the ladies who helped me settle in were very… gracious.”
Nox cleared his throat beside her but said nothing as the Warlord nodded.
“I’m sure they were. The residents in the manse, both Warriors and their families, wish to make your stay with us as pleasant as possible. Our home is yours for as long as you wish to remain.”
Nox snorted and Sasha screwed her smile into place. “Indeed,” was all the response she could muster.
“Nox tells me you are willing to help us out. We have something that needs a Sorcerer’s touch.”
“Yes, he mentioned you needed my magic, but didn’t go into the particulars.”
“Viper?”
The tattooed Vampire turned those cold eyes on her again. She felt her stomach drop as she realized this was the male she’d be working closely with to resolve whatever magical issues they had. An unreasonable fear gripped her, and she felt her heart racing in her chest. She couldn’t do it. She didn’t know why, but this Vampire terrified her, more, even, than Primeval Magnus himself.
He was talking, but the words were like bees, stinging her ears. She pushed her chair back, ready to run, her eyes wildly scanning the room for an escape. When her searching gaze landed on the blond one, she stopped. And just like that, as quickly as the panic had arisen, it simply faded away.
Without thinking, she inhaled deeply through her nose, blew out a steadying breath through her mouth, all the while locking eyes with that beautiful male. Once more, and the tremor in her hands eased. Again, and she relaxed against the back of her chair.
“You okay,” Nox whispered, but she could only nod, afraid to take her eyes from those sea green gems across the table.
“Thank you, Tas,” Mason said. “And Viper, again, but can you dial it down a bit?”
Sasha chanced a glance at the male who had triggered that awful reaction. This time, he was just another Vampire, nothing frightening about him at all. She looked back at Tas, who now sat back in his chair, his eyes closed, a serene smile on his lips, and she sighed.
“What just happened?” she asked.
“Nox will explain later. For now, we have an urgent issue that requires your special brand of magic.” Mason said
“Yes, yes, of course.”
Viper got up and walked to the male with the laptop. “Merlin, give me your wrist.”
Merlin lifted an arm to Viper without taking his eyes from the computer screen. Viper touched a metallic-looking cuff on the male’s wrist, and it opened, allowing him to remove it. He pushed it across the table toward Sasha and said, “What can you tell me about this?”
Sasha hesitated, then reached to retrieve the thing, which turned out to be made of hematite. The moment she touched it, the item sang to her, the magic within recognizing her own magic as kindred. “Where did you get this?” she asked, turning the smooth stone over in her hands. Its surface was like glass against her skin, the magic eager to communicate with her own.
“Does it matter?” Viper said.
“It might.” Her fear of the male slipped away in the excitement of what was going on between her and the cuff’s magic.
Mason answered. “As you are aware, we’ve had several run-ins with your kind. Twice, we were fortunate enough to take possession of some items our foes left behind in their rush to escape.”
“Or die,” Viper muttered.
“Not helping,” Tas whispered.
Sasha ignored them both. At least one of the Sorcerers would have been her father. “Who did this belong to?” she asked.
Mason looked at Viper, who said, “That one came from the munitions plant in Miamisburg.”
“Helmut Fuhrmann, then,” Mason said.
The cuff hummed in her hand when the name was spoken, the vibration tickling her fingertips. “Related to Ulrich Fuhrmann? The Sorcerer who was with you in London?”
“Not with us,” Mason said, “But yes, he was there. And yes, a relation. Helmut Fuhrmann was his father.”
Her grandfather. “What happened to him?”
Nox shifted in the chair next to her and gave her an awkward glance. “Short answer, he tried to kill my brother and his mate. I killed him first.”
The vibration in the cuff she held intensified, and across from her Merlin yelped. The quiet male fumbled with an identical cuff on his other wrist and hastily removed it, tossing it onto the table. “What the hell?”
Viper stared at the cuff a moment, picked it up for a quick examination, then shrugged as he laid it back on the table. “Huh,” he said. “Never seen it do that before.”
The magic was definitely her grandfather’s, and it wasn’t at all happy at being used to the benefit of those responsible for his death.
Sasha placed the cuff on the table in front of her. “Perhaps they are responding to the presence of Sorcerer magic.”
“Maybe,” Viper said. “Do you know what they do?”
Sasha probed the cuff with her magic, and the spells set upon it came to her in a rush of Latin, too fast for her to understand, let alone translate. On the upside, she spoke Latin. Downside? She was never formally trained in using it to invoke charms or spells. After all, she’d been sold to the Primeval when she was still a child.
However, Magnus had insisted she train herself as much as she could, provided her with spell books and later with the Undernet to do her own research and to learn. Otherwise, she was just another useless slave, expendable. Disposable. Of course he had her watched carefully to ensure the things she learned were appropriate, never anything that could be used against him, personally. But that didn’t stop her from reading up on a few tricks that might come in handy now.
She tried again, ready this time for the onslaught of foreign words that she knew would speak into her mind. After a third go, she thought she had it.
“There is a concealment charm on them. A very powerful one, if I’m reading it correctly.”
“Can you strengthen it?” Viper asked, those intense eyes of his drilling into her again.
This time she didn’t flinch but stared right back at him. “Maybe. But first, you have to tell me why.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
A fter several sessions of Viper’s blind training, Martin and the others were getting frustrated. Night after night of getting their asses kicked by an “enemy” they couldn’t see was starting to take its toll. Viper’s training style didn’t help. Not that they needed him to hold their hands, but the Warrior pulled no punches, and that was in the literal sense. Not only were their spirits low, but their
bodies were covered with cuts and bruises, or worse.
No matter whether they were on the patrol roster, regardless of their regular training schedule with Tas, blind training was mandatory, no excuses short of death.
This morning’s session started like all the rest, with them standing at attention, backs straight, hands loosely fisted at their sides. Viper walked through the ranks passing out blindfolds, lecturing them the entire time about this new-to-them threat, these Dark Warriors who could suck the light out of a room to the point where even Vampires would be blind. According to Viper, they could turn the stars off like light bulbs with less effort than one of those Clapper switches.
One of the newer Soldiers questioned Viper about the existence of these alleged creatures. Had to give the kid points for guts, if not brains, as the answer came to him in the form of a fist to… something. Given how he couldn’t see, Martin had to guess by the soft sound of it, the punch landed somewhere in the lower abdominal area. Kid didn’t say another word. Viper did, though.
“You think I’m doing this for my health? You think I like spending my free time babysitting your sorry asses, imparting my vast wisdom on you only so I can hear you whine and cry because you got a fucking boo-boo? Buck up! This is cake and ice cream compared to what the Kurai Senshi are gonna do to you. These bastards are mean, and they have control over your sense of sight. If you can’t master your other senses, then you’re as good as dead. And not just you, but the Soldier next to you, and the one next to them, and probably the Warriors as well. You cannot rely on someone else to bail you out. You need to be able to dig deep within yourself and control what you can. See them without your eyes, fight them with everything you have, differentiate between the enemy and friendlies.”
Viper went on, and Martin wondered how much truth there was in what he said. The Warrior had a way of making everything seem twenty times harsher than it usually was. Still, Martin was determined to become a Warrior in record time, so he forced his doubts and any distracting thoughts from his mind so he could focus solely on Viper’s words.
The first time the male struck him, a fist in his middle, Martin fell to his knees, stunned. Once again, the guy wasn’t handing out love taps, and Martin gasped on the floor as Viper continued to talk like nothing had happened. He never missed a beat, but now Martin could hear others being kicked, punched. He heard the cries of his fellow Soldiers, all apparently as surprised as he was at the attack.
When he regained his breath, Martin struggled to his feet, straining his ears for the sound of the Warrior’s approach. The strike to the back of his knees sent him to the floor again, and he swore. He’d been certain he’d hear the male’s approach when he came for another round, but the other Soldiers’ gasping and crying had camouflaged the sound.
“Without your eyes,” Viper lectured, “You’ll have to rely on your other senses. Sound, smell, touch, even taste. Use them to distinguish friend from foe. When you’re out on patrol, concentrate on the people around you, especially the Soldiers. Know not only the sounds of their voices, but that of their breathing, their footsteps. Know the smell of their skin, what kind of shampoo they use, their preferred brand of toothpaste or what they had for fucking dinner.”
Another Soldier cried out, one of the females, and Martin seethed. He knew it shouldn’t bother him that Viper was treating them as equals. They signed up for this same as he had, but still.
When Viper spoke again, he was inches from Martin’s face. The smell of cigarette smoke on his breath was rank at such close range, a fact Martin subconsciously stored away for future use.
“Do you think the Kurai Senshi will hesitate to take out a Soldier, just because she’s female?”
Martin should have anticipated the punch to his jaw, but his concentration was out the window. He staggered back with the force of the blow as blood welled in his lip, then trickled from the corner of his mouth. He felt his eyes spark, even though the color couldn’t penetrate the blindfold he wore, and his fangs pushed through his gums.
“The Kurai Senshi take no prisoners. They are assassins, murderers, and they will kill without prejudice.” He was across the room again. How did he move so freaking fast?
“If you learn nothing else from this training, know that you are on your own. Unless you can master your other four senses, you will be dead before you realize we’re under attack.”
And so it went on, time a mirage, so fast it couldn’t be tracked, so slow it seemed an eternity, with no end in sight. Viper talking, Viper attacking. Martin could sense many of the Soldiers panicking, some hyperventilating at the inconsistency of the surprise assaults.
Someone cried out, “No more!” and Martin cringed when Viper tore into the Soldier. The verbal lashing was accompanied by the loud crack of breaking bone. Viper’s swearing drowned out the Soldier’s screams.
“You think this is fucking bad? You think a couple of smacks to the ass are over the line? These bastards will rip your fucking hearts out and snack on them while tearing the throat from your backup. You. Will. Not. Survive,” he yelled. “You will be nothing but a pile of rotting flesh, and I promise you, Allon has no tricks up his sleeve to repair the damage these bastards can do.”
Martin heard what sounded like a boot to the groin, and Viper said, “Go to the infirmary, now, you useless sack of shit. Go on, get the fuck out of here.”
More shuffling, and the sniffling sounds of the broken Soldier faded.
This was over the top, even by Legion standards. Martin was getting the sense that whatever was coming their way must be pretty bad if the Warriors, the Warlord for chrissakes, felt this kind of training necessary.
Martin shook off the other Soldiers’ reactions and centered himself, grabbed control of his breathing, and focused. As his breaths evened out, he sorted through the sounds in the room. The thud of fist meeting flesh as Viper attacked his next victim; the echoes of his fellow Soldiers’ groans; feet shuffling against the padded mats. Breathing, not his own. The faint scent of tobacco.
Acting on instinct alone, Martin shifted to his left, the breeze of a flying fist tickling the fabric covering his eyes. He ducked to avoid the follow up swing on his right and threw a right hook as hard as he could. His fist met flesh. The fact that it was Viper’s palm intercepting the punch rather than the bastard’s face only slightly diminished the thrill rushing through him.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” the Warrior mumbled. “Let’s see if you can do it again.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
M erlin opened the door and Tas stood in the frame, his California-beach blond hair loose and hanging in soft curls around his shoulders. “Come in.” Merlin stepped back to grant the Warrior access to his home. It was rare he had one of the others in his space. If they needed him, or vice versa, he met with them in the Tech Lab or the War Room. This was his private space, and he could count on one hand the number of times he’d allowed anyone to invade it.
Tas stepped inside and said, “I’m glad you called. When I didn’t see you again after training the other night, well, I was starting to worry.”
“I understand.” Merlin closed the door and leaned against it, not sure how to proceed.
“I stopped by the Tech Lab a couple of times, but you weren’t there.”
Merlin nodded. “I’ve been busy.”
“With?”
“How would you like to do this?” Merlin dodged the question, redirected the conversation onto, well not more comfortable ground, but a subject he was prepared to discuss.
Tas cocked his head but didn’t push. “Is there a room here you find more relaxing than the others? Somewhere you might be able to find your center and concentrate?”
Merlin hesitated, but there was only one place where he could release his mind enough to find an occasional smidgen of peace. He’d never shared it with anyone, as it was private, his shrine to Kioshi not something he cared to explain. However, Tas knew more than most, and Merlin trusted him to be discre
et. “Hai,” he said. “Follow me.”
He led the way into the small, dark room, the candles on Kioshi’s altar providing the only light. Tas reached for the switch on the wall, but Merlin laid his hand over it before Tas could turn it on.
“I prefer it this way,” he whispered. Once again, Tas deferred to him and Merlin relaxed a bit more.
“I see you have cushions on the floor. Do we sit on them, or would you prefer the floor?”
“The cushions are fine.” He wondered for a moment why he’d outfitted the room with more than one of the ornate pillows, but the answer was immediate. The second was for Kioshi.
He pushed the thought aside as they took their places, standard meditation position, legs folded, hands palm up, thumb to fingertip.
“So how have you been?” Tas asked, as he made himself comfortable.
“I’m good,” Merlin said. “I was thinking, though.” He hesitated and Tas waited patiently for him to continue. “Even though the workout didn’t, well, work out, I still think it would be good for me to hit something. Now that I have the cuffs, I’m thinking about going out on patrol. Just to see if it will help with… things.”
Tas tilted his head again, but said nothing, the quiet growing heavy between them with each passing second. After an eternity he blinked and said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Merlin slanted his eyes at the Warrior, his argument on the tip of his tongue, but Tas moved on before he could speak the words.
“Deep breath,” Tas said, his voice low and calm, leaving any chance of returning to the former subject in the review mirror.
“I know the drill,” Merlin said on a growl.
Tas opened his eyes and looked into Merlin’s. No accusation, no judgement. “I know you do. That was for me.” His smile was soft, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly. “I can do my thing silently, if it’s more comfortable for you?”