It didn’t make any sense as a prophecy, so maybe it was just a nightmare. She shuddered to think of a reality where such a monster really existed. The orange and red of sunrise outside her tiny window eased her fears. The monster couldn’t get at them while the sun shone and she wouldn’t have to face sleep again for the whole day.
NATHALIA KNEW where she was even before she opened her eyes. The stone bed beneath her was cool and Eiran heated the air to her right. The sun light shone bright yellow through her lids. This was the second time she had known she was dead only to wake naked in the mothers tomb under both the sunlight and Eiran’s watchful eye.
How long had it been since she’d slept in her bed at the Abbey? She couldn’t calculate. Time seemed to pass differently here. It could be as little as three days and as much as three months. It was disorienting.
She reached out for her familiar power source out of habit, but finding it without excess, called up her new reservoir. Nathalia, remembering her ancient ancestress full of life, dancing with baby Eiran, set her mind to pull from it. She called her lifeline to the surface and traced it back to that mother. It took her longer than it did Eiran, not only because he was more accustomed to the process, but because his line back through the ages to the mother was much shorter. He had only one generation to go through, she had hundreds. She found the pool and felt the energy gathering. When it made her feel tingly and warm, she pulled a strand and used it to speak to Eiran.
I want to be dressed. Labasu. She felt the thin silky linen float down and cover her. She opened her eyes to find herself dressed exactly the way she was the first time she requested labasu. She was going to have to start being more specific. Jeans and a T-shirt were much more her style. Thank you, Eiran.
“You are welcome, Nathalia.” He grinned when she turned her head to look at him in shock. His first English words. His smile was beautiful. Straight white teeth framed by two deep creases in his cheeks. It was one of those smiles that carried across his whole face. His eyes smiled too. No telling how long he’d been standing there; a thin layer of dust covered him.
How long was I out?
“Full moon tonight.”
Long enough for you to learn to speak English. So she had slept, or been in a coma, however she wanted to look at it, for about two weeks. Hard to believe. He helped her sit up. They both examined her arm where the vampire had broken it. And long enough for me to heal.
Nathalia had a great ability to heal, but the wound to her neck had happened before the change in her had occurred. She knew certain things instinctively, or maybe they were snippets from Eiran. Either way, the uneven line on her neck would never go away, never heal. Her mortal death was a part of who she was for eternity.
Eiran looked wounded, the color drained from his face. He reached out and gently brushed the scar on her throat. She must have been broadcasting her thoughts again. She hadn’t tried to access the power, so it must be coming to her easier. Then she started to feel what Eiran was emoting, and it didn’t have the lingering trace of power. Maybe their connection made sharing more basic.
Guilt stricken by his failure to find her before she suffered, he felt self-reproach for her life of pain with Michael. He was also responsible for her few moments of terror at the hands of the vampire.
Nathalia closed her eyes, pushing the tears back. His pain was just as much as hers had been. You can’t feel guilty about Michael. He made his choices. But why didn’t you just tell me about the prisoners? I wouldn’t have even come in there if you had told me how dangerous it was.
Nathalia hadn’t seen him walk around, but the sound of his voice gave away his location behind her. “No one can go through gisig. Made for only me by Igigi…” He struggled to remember the word he wanted to use and then found it. “Shinar made for me. No one else allowed through. Keeping betrayers is duty. Only me.”
Why you alone?
“Not alone anymore.” Eiran took up great sections of her hair and began to braid them. He didn’t bother to brush it. It didn’t seem to need that anymore. It never tangled. The sensations coming from that intimate but innocent touch were exquisite. Nathalia could feel it radiating down to her toes.
I took my own life and you gave me another. I thank you, Eiran, but I can’t promise I will be with you forever. Nathalia didn’t even know him.
She was almost afraid to ask, but had to know. Are we vampires?
“No.” Eiran’s answer was curt, but Nathalia had half expected it. She knew that they weren’t, but didn’t know how she had known. Back in the prison when the vampire had tried to force feed her his blood, she’d resisted. She could feel that wasn’t what they were, but didn’t know what else to call them.
You said we are Nephilim. Angels? She couldn’t deny that she felt different, changed, but lacked comprehension.
“We are darisam baltutu, forever living persons. Yhwy children say Nephilim, sons of Gregori.” He finished her hair and taking her hand, led her out into the large central room.
Yahweh children. You mean the Jewish people? It was obvious he didn’t know the word, but Nathalia was certain that Jews were called ‘the children of god’ and they called their god Yahweh.
He led her to a corner of the room she hadn’t noticed before where a small trickle of water flowed over a flat rock. The effect made a natural mirror. She looked at her reflection and what she saw stunned her. Eiran achieved the most intricate of updos she’d ever seen. She turned her head this way and that, trying to see the back when something else caught her attention. Her eyes.
She dropped down on her knees and leaned out over the water pooling at the foot of the stone. She could see more detail there because of the still water. Instead of the expected brown, the iris’ sparkled rainbow. Amazingly they were filled with multicolored facets, like a jewel cut crystal.
I’m a Guardian?
“Good name. Yes. Guardian of Mankind.”
Nathalia needed a new tactic. Asking what they were wasn’t getting her any information. She stood and faced Eiran and was struck, as every time she looked, by how beautiful he was. For a man. Your brother wanted to know how I was made. How’d you do it? Nathalia could tell that he did not fully know the answer to that question so she helped him along. She reached out and put her hand on his chest. That seemed to make it easier for him to give her the visions. Just show me. We’ll figure it out together.
Eiran showed her his memory of the event in the only way he could, from his point of view. His thoughts were in Sumerian, but she could get a perception of his feelings easily enough. Regret: he arrived too late. Nathalia lay dead in a pool of her own blood that no longer pumped from the jagged gapping cut on her throat. Rage: Eiran hurled himself at the dead man who hurt Nathalia. Hunger: He plunged his hand deep into the vile man’s chest and pulled out his heart with a great sucking sound. He brought it to his mouth and sucked it dry. Hatred: Michael did not deserve to decay. Eiran did not want that body tucked away in and accepted by Mother Earth. He grabbed the body, crushing every bone inside it against him, and dissolved their molecules. Then Eiran reformed himself and left Michael amorphous. Michael simply ceased to exist. Even that was too good for him; his death had been too quick for Eiran’s taste.
All this only took a few seconds. Eiran’s vengeance had been swift and decisive and then he was back to Nathalia. Anguish: she was dead, or would be in a matter of seconds. Certainty: she was the one. He bit his tongue and began to lap at her neck, using his blood to heal her wound. He lost himself in the delicious flavor of her blood. Crestfallen: He gathered her up in his arms. She was already cold. He dissolved their molecules, but then he felt the soft brush of her mind on his. Amazement: This startling woman used her last precious seconds to reassure him that he had done nothing wrong. That he was doing the right thing and that she was happy in his arms. Grateful: He had never felt more love for her than in that moment.
Eiran and Nathalia stalled between worlds, inside the Mother, their cells intertw
ined as he carried her through. He held them there until the last inch of life left her cells, not wanting to cut off even a fraction of a second from her life. He could feel her joy and tried to make it last as long as possible. He reformed their bodies in his own room above his mother’s body. He laid Nathalia reverently on his marble bed, straightening her legs and arms and hair. He formed her locks just as they had been in her memory even though it was already clipped off when he found her.
Fury: He left her there with tears streaming down his cheeks and headed down the hall. He was going to see the Igigi. How could they let her exist and then die without telling him? He did not care if they killed him, he went to challenge them. She deserved that much.
Shock: He stopped and turned back to look at her body. He heard the swift intake of breath and the soft low beating of her heart. Nathalia lived, even after tabalu. He stood in that hallway looking at her in disbelief, gathering dust, until she got up and came crashing into him.
The memory he shared confused Nathalia. The way he fed from Michael’s heart and then obliterated his entire physical existence was repugnant, but his concern for her and willingness to stand up to the Igigi, whoever they were, for not saving her when they had the chance, was noble.
What is tabalu?
“Tabalu means take away.” He showed her the very difficult process in her head, of taking them apart cell by cell, then taking them away to a different place through the connection to the earth itself, and then putting them back together elsewhere. He had total control of every cell in his body and now in her body too. Remembering how wonderful it felt to have Eiran permeate every cell of her body, she wanted to experience that moment of pure being intertwined with him again.
Do it. Take me away. I want to feel that again.
“I tabalu us to the sunlight. Consent?” He showed her the image of the slap she had given him when he would not let her go. He had been too amazed and shocked at his emotions to be able to let her go, afraid she wasn’t real. She’d been scared of him.
Sorry about that, Eiran. I shouldn’t have hit you. I’m not sure I’ve ever hit anyone. I was…
“Scared. I understand. Consent to touch?”
Yes, why are you so worried? You’ve done this with me twice already.
“You were not awake before. Humans find our touch…uncomfortable.”
Honestly, I’d suffer any discomfort for a little fresh air and sun.
Eiran smiled, but approached her slowly. He slipped his arms under hers and wrapped them around her. Their bodies pressed like that, being held in his arms, made Nathalia feel a rush of excitement. Anywhere they touched felt tingly, like the moment before a static shock.
Pleasure washed over her in waves as he broke them down into their elements. Joy was all she knew in that moment. She was the earth and the air and he was there. He gave her this ecstasy.
In a split second Eiran reassembled their bodies. Nathalia allowed him to keep his arms around her and she slipped hers around his neck. She rested her head on his chest while the knee knocking pleasure subsided, completely unconcerned by their nakedness. Being moved in that way by Eiran was more intimate than anything else they could do with their bodies.
Wow. That was…
“Pleasurable?”
To say the least. That must get you a lot of action with the ladies. Can I learn to do it on my own?
He shared his memories with her. Eiran did not know what action she was talking about, but there were other ladies. Only Nathalia had survived. Each of the women he’d attempted it with had reformed, dead in his arms. Fundamentally changed, their bodies never decay and rest in the mothers tomb. He had killed two women he loved, thinking they could be the one because of that love. It was a heart aching vision of loneliness he shared with her. He had sworn long ago never to try it again and had only “taken her away” because he was certain she was dead already.
“Tabalu is not the same when alone.”
I’m sorry about the other women, but I am glad you broke your vow to do it with me. I’m alive because you did. I want to do it again.
Eiran took them away back to the mother’s tomb. The sun was still shinning in through the sunroof but it was cold compared to the full light. As soon as they were there, even before Nathalia felt disappointment, Eiran moved them back.
As soon as she felt the sun on her skin, Again, Nathalia demanded. Please, she begged.
Eiran capitulated, dissolving them and reforming them only a few steps away. It was no less gratifying the next time and rapidly repeated tabalu left Nathalia out of breath. Her eyes clamped shut, she tried to hold onto that insanely erotic moment and when the impression slipped away she needed it again.
More. Nathalia held her breath and clung to him, but nothing happened.
“No more now.”
Please. Eiran, please.
“Too dangerous. Might not come back. Could get trapped without bodies.”
Women may think they know what it is like to have a man inside them, but no one knew what it was to have a man inside every cell. It was beyond an aphrodisiac to have him control her everything. She could live like that forever with him. Maybe she was the only human to ever truly experience Nirvana. It sure felt like “the highest happiness.” So what if we get trapped without bodies? It would solve her “not attracted to men” problem.
Eiran moved his hands down from her waist to cup her trim and firm backside. Nathalia lifted her head from his chest and tilted up toward his face. He kissed her hard on the mouth. Not giving her a chance to change her mind, he deepened the kiss. Parting her lips with his tongue, he pushed between her teeth to rub her tongue with his. He spoke inside her mind. I like your body.
Then her thoughts were flooded with his. Images of him thrusting and her rocking to meet those thrusts, penetrated her brain, lubricating it to the idea of sex with him. His very real hands were all over her back, face, throat and breasts as they continued to kiss.
Yes, he was right. Losing her body wouldn’t be as fun as using it. Nathalia grabbed one of the hands fondling her breasts and pushed it down toward her aching core. She felt his excitement as she pushed his palm against her swollen lips. After that Eiran didn’t need any coaching. He pushed his fingers between her silky curls, already moist with excitement.
His other hand found its way back to her ass, cupping it and pushing her hips to an angle where he could better reach her temptation. He stoked her labia and brushed against her clit. Beg again, he instructed her.
Yes, please, Eiran. I want you to make me come.
EIRAN DID not have to comb her memories in search of the meaning of that phrase. He knew what she wanted him to do. He pressed his thumb against her pearl, feeling its heartbeat. Moving up and down and then side to side over her throbbing nerve center inflamed this body just as it had in her previous life.
Nathalia began to move against him uncontrollably. She spread her thighs wider for him and he took her invitation. Careful his fingers did not enter her canal until he brought her to the edge of a powerful climax, he knew it was time when she held her breath and her taut stomach muscles tightened even more. Slipping his middle finger inside her as his thumb continued drawing on her nerve nodule because he wanted to feel the involuntary clenching of her womb, he pressed against the impossible.
Eiran didn’t stop, it would have been cruel at this point, but a change came over him when he encountered the thin unbroken barrier of her hymen. His Sinnis shivered, dug her fingers into his upper arms and tried to keep her balance on trembling legs as pleasure exploded through her body.
Pulling his hand from her he brought it to his mouth. He sampled her climax and it both pleased and confused him. She tasted exactly as he remembered. This was his wife of long ago. Somehow she remained a virgin while rising to become High Priestess of Inanna, two things that were mutually exclusive in the time of their previous life together.
Eiran laid them down side by side on the hot sand and closed his eyes to
think. Being the first of her kind meant that Eiran had no one to go to with questions about his Sinnis. Everything about this woman was familiar and yet completely different. She wasn’t the sexually confident priestess, giving and receiving without a worry. Even now Nathalia laid there, contemplating sex, but the thought of touching him scared her. For now, all men were her abuser. Eiran refused to be connected to that monster in her mind. A sense of duty overrode her fear. She thought she had to reciprocate. Her hand went toward his erection.
Eiran stopped her. “No.”
THE BREATH she’d been holding evacuated her lungs. She hoped the huffing sound didn’t insult Eiran. In truth, she was relieved. She didn’t want to do that with Eiran, but she wanted to want to. He pulled her hand up to his mouth, kissed it and rested it on his chest. He breathed deeply. She watched as his erection receded. Michael had never done that for her. He never allowed her to orgasm and he had never sacrificed what he wanted. Eiran gave her pleasure without asking anything in return.
It was all a little much for her to process so she looked for distraction.
For the first time since Eiran tabalu’d her here, Nathalia looked at their surroundings. They lay in the desert. Sand and rocks for miles and miles. To the east, bluish mountains silhouetted the horizon. The view was obstructed by the wavy heat lines coming off everything. She stretched languidly beside him, then stood. How long had it been since she’d done her yoga? She did her sun salutation, even though the time of day was wrong, and it felt good.
She’d never been so aware of her body. The orgasm activated every nerve in her body, even some she didn’t know were there. Every muscle, tendon and bone could be felt. Her skin was warm in the sunlight and it felt good to stretch it. The sand, stuck to her body where she had laid next to Eiran, rubbed and scratched at her.
She was very in tune with the sun too. It was a little jarring at first. She felt its influence like she had usually felt the moon. She had always thought of the moon and earth as female, but the sun was male. The earth held life and grew it, but the sun provided what was needed to start that life. What’s our connection with the sun?
The Dying Art of Magic Page 5