Blood Stained Tranquility

by N. Isabelle Blanco

  “Nah. Got things to do. Shit to see.”

  “Nylicia . . .”

  She stopped next to him, and tilted her head back to stare up at him with big, multi-colored eyes. “Fine. I saw what you did to that guy in the alley.”

  He ground his teeth, his lips pulling back as his anger rose. “And you had the power to rip me away. You had to power to stop me.”

  Nylicia blinked, looking confused. “Why would I? I enjoyed that. Lots.”

  Why wasn’t Mavrak awakening yet? Surely she deserved some punishment for allowing him to do what he did. Not that he wanted to punish her, but it made no sense to him how Mavrak didn’t.

  “Do not ask me to feel sorry for the bastard. He deserved every bit of what you gave him.”

  “Then you go down there and punish those you see fit,” he said, growling from behind his clenched teeth.

  She gave him that wide-eyed stare again. “I told you: I’m working on it.”

  He ran a hand across his forehead. “Just tell me why I’m here.”

  “Well, you should really be with Eves—”

  “She’s awake?” He tried to dematerialize straight to Enzyria, but a little hand latched onto his shirt and actually managed to hold him in place. “The hell? Let go of me, female!”

  He all but contorted his back, scowling down at the tiny fingers latched onto his T-shirt. She was translucent, damn it, yet she was still grabbing him.

  “What is your problem?”

  Nylicia sighed, refusing to let go of his shirt.

  How the hell was she keeping him there?

  “She’s not awake. But she’s somewhat aware. Staying away from her isn’t helping either of you. I mean, I know you’re busy running and fleeing, hunting down Enteax and Lisrn, fleeing again, and running some more, but—”

  “I get it. I’ll go.”

  Hearing that Evesse wasn’t awake kicked him in the balls, deflating all of his excitement and hope. Didn’t matter. He’d made up his mind to go to her. Now, nothing would keep him away. He had to see her. It had been two weeks. Hearing that she might be aware had him itching to bolt.

  Nylicia squeezed down on the fabric of his shirt. “One more thing before I let you go. Stop hunting him down.”

  Zen had no clue what the hell she was talking about. For about two seconds. Then it hit him. “Why the hell would you ask me that?”

  He was so close to her now that his teeth were practically in her face.

  She stared between his mouth and his eyes, blinking rapidly. “Um, pretty sure Evesse might have an issue with this if she saw us right now.”

  “Damn you.” He went to grab her wrist. Instead, he was met with thin air. Yet she still had his shirt in her freaking grip. “Let. Me. Go.”

  “As soon as you promise me that you’ll do as I say.”

  That’s it.

  He ripped his shirt off, leaving her holding the mangled fabric. She stared between it and his naked chest, a look of appreciation crossing her face.

  “Very nice. Very. Again, though, I’m pretty sure Eve would have a problem with this.”

  He ignored her, dematerializing out of the Haklanayasas.

  The last thing he heard was her voice trailing after him.

  “I mean it, Zen. Leave him alone! Don’t make me make this difficult for you. You aren’t going to like it!”

  Chapter 3

  -Enzyria.

  Zeniel clenched his fists and tried to come to terms with the sight before him. He’d spent weeks running from the female on the bed, weeks trying to escape what she’d begun in him. And for what? Nothing had stopped Mavrak’s slow but steady fight for freedom.

  One look. That’s all it had taken. One look into her glorious brown eyes had destroyed centuries of calm—which was one hell of an irony.

  Though he hadn’t remembered it at first, it had been a vision of Evesse that had called him out of the darkness of Mavrak’s psyche. It had been her mocha-colored eyes that had sparked consciousness in Zeniel. He probably never would have been reborn as the God of Tranquility had it not been for her.

  And for eleven thousand years, he’d existed with an emptiness in his stomach that crept up on him at random times.

  Nylicia’s answer every time he had asked?

  “What do you want me to do? You will remember when you are supposed to remember. It is not my fault I cannot remember what vision I showed you the day we first met. A long time has passed since then and I am a very busy female.”

  Filthy little liar. She knew. She made sure that he was the one sent to fetch Evesse weeks before.

  That day had changed everything. He had stared into Eve’s eyes, and even from across the street the Etaeryb had opened up. The moment his mind connected with hers, he’d seen everything. He’d seen her whole life leading up to that point and every one of her struggles. Her small hands pushing at her stepfather’s face and her frenzied breaths as she struggled to pull away. The vase breaking and her bloody fingers holding tight onto the shard that saved her and ended that piece of shit’s life.

  And Evesse had ended up dying anyway, killed by two Aviraji when they had first kidnapped, then ritually sacrificed her friend.

  Ismini had been thrown into that vortex and Eve had chased after her, refusing to abandon her even in her last moments. She was a fierce woman. A faithful friend who protected those she cared about. Because of that, she had died. All under his watch.

  His job was to protect her. He had waited thousands of years to meet her. And now, seeing her in the state she was currently in had officially pushed him past the point of feral.

  Mavrak’s reemergence may have had good reason, but it didn’t make accepting the truth any easier. Zen’s fear of Vengeance was too ingrained in him. The memories of the things he had once done cut too deep. The guilt even more so.

  Yet, he knew and understood that his life was meant to come to this moment. He was meant to stand before his woman, struggling with the darkness within him. It was the most humbling realization of his existence. A real knock-him-off-his-feet-and-glue-his-ass-cheeks-to-the-floor moment.

  Even understanding the facts, his fear was gleefully pony-riding his synapses. If Mavrak took over before Zen gained any form of control, total Armageddon would come next. There would be no escaping it. The only way to stop him at that point would be to kill them both.

  Before Evesse, that might have been a viable option. Now that she had begun to mate to him, and he to her? He would unleash his retribution on the whole of the Universe before he allowed anyone to take his life. As long as it was tied to Evesse’s, no harm would come to him.

  What a messed-up predicament to be in. He had sworn to destroy himself before he would ever allow Mavrak to regain control again.

  Stop focusing on it. Not now. You’re just adding to the frustration.

  Much, much easier said than done. Staring down at Evesse, remembering why she was like that—remembering his failure to protect her—sent a whole lot of adrenaline and anger surging through both him and Mavrak. Just what the bastard needed to grow nice and strong.

  Zen clenched his jaw. He needed to leave. He was out of control and he was putting everyone in danger just by being there. But he couldn’t go without touching Evesse and trying to get through to her.

  He approached the bed, his heart hammering as he took her in. The covers were tucked around her waist. Her chest rose and fell with each breath. He took in her thin face. Her pert nose. Even when closed, her eyes retained their Asian-like tilt. Her small but plump lips were parted as she breathed. The thick strands of her black hair fanned out around her, covering her small shoulders.

  “So beautiful.” His voice came out as nothing more than an awe-filled whisper.

  The female had been stunning when she was human. As a stronger, more powerful being, she’d nearly broken all of his resolve to stay away from her. Now, she’d been resurrected with the powers of a goddess—powers that glowed beneath her creamy skin.

&nbs
p; Careful not to jar her, Zen eased down on the bed next to Evesse. He tried to keep his hands to himself, but that was damned impossible. He was a sick bastard for what he was contemplating, but he had no control over it.

  Touch her . . .

  Instinct gave the command, merging with the voice of the demon inside him and multiplying. Mavrak had been on a mission since Zeniel had first locked eyes with Eve and seen her past. He was determined to do what he considered important above all.

  Take her.

  Devour her.

  Avenge her.

  Zen let his eyes trace the curve of Eve’s upper lip, then the lower one. They both fell open and he forgot to hold his breath. One sweet exhale from her nearly made him fall over.

  He felt weak in a way he’d never felt before. Not even when he’d first awoken as Zeniel, after centuries of torture and starvation, had he felt as light headed as he did now.

  Stop breathing, you moron. Stop.

  But he couldn’t. Panting, he leaned closer, eyes frozen on her mouth. Just one taste, that’s all he needed—one deep, thorough taste.

  A small gasp left Evesse and the air fluttered across his lips. Lips that he found himself licking as he got caught up in the sudden desire to suck on her tongue and taste her.

  Touch her, damn you! Mavrak cried from within him.

  No, damn you. And shut the fuck up.

  Still, Zen gave in, obeying the orders and hoping for some relief. His hand seemed ridiculously large when he lifted it toward her face. The closer he got, the more her aura roared beneath her skin. Red, yellow, and sparkling black swirled, reaching out toward him. His fingers were shaking by the time they made contact. Slowly, lovingly, he traced her thick, black eyelashes. The colors followed his move, almost as if they were begging for his touch. Her aura flared, reaching out and intertwining with his red, gray, black and blue one.

  So fucking gorgeous.

  So mine.

  She was his. Fate had decided it, and he now knew that her own symptoms had begun showing before her death. They called it a R’mannev. In reality, it was a total body–soul hijacking. A forced ownership that took over everything.

  He ran his fingers across her cheek, watching the colors coalesce beneath his fingertips. Heat literally popped out of her, her aura seeming to boil. The walls and floor of the room began to shake again—a clear sign that she was still in there. That she could feel him.

  His chest rumbled at the thought. Hunger attacked once more, almost robbing him of every ounce of civility he possessed.

  More. Taste . . .

  Fuck. He wanted to. So badly.

  He cupped her chin and her full lips parted. She was definitely still in there, and she reacted to him even in that state. Absurdly pleased by that, Zeniel didn’t realize that his body had taken the reigns, that he was leaning down. Eve’s chest expanded with a deep breath, her breasts bumping against his chest.

  He froze, groaning deep. His lips were already parting, and an odd tingle shot through his gums. He told his pathetic, perverted ass to stop, but did his body listen? Of course not. Especially not when Eve exhaled shakily, her sweet breath sliding between his lips.

  Need. Taste.

  Zen clenched his eyes shut so tight he thought his eyelids might tear. When he managed to open them again, his face was right next to Evesse’s. To his shock, he watched her lips part further, and he caught a glimpse of her elongated incisors.

  He went instantly hard, his cock pushing angrily against his jeans.

  “Eve.” Damn it, he sounded like an agonized animal. “You need to wake up for me.”

  Trembling, and on the verge of doing something very, very stupid, he swallowed the saliva pooling inside his mouth. He accidentally pierced the inside of his lip with his teeth. The moment he tasted his own blood, his gaze shot down to her neck.

  Damn near obsessed, he couldn’t tear himself away no matter what he did. Every pound of her artery went painfully through him, slamming into his cock. The tingle shot through his upper jaw again. He wanted to sink his teeth, sink them as deep as possible so he could . . . what exactly?

  Drink her?

  Dear gods, yes. The idea of her blood leaking out of her and sliding into him nearly felled him right there.

  Holy shit. What in the—

  “Wake up, please. You need to wake up.”

  As soon as the last word left his mouth, Eve’s back arched up off the bed. Toward him. Her little nipples were hard, pushing against the gray tank top she’d been dressed in.

  “Fuck,” he hissed under his breath, closing his eyes again. He couldn’t look. He had to pull away. There was no way he could claim his R’ma while she was in a freaking coma.

  Right?

  Taste her!

  Shut the fuck up already!

  God of Tranquility? There was no way he could be considered as such with what he was feeling. His lips brushed across her cheek, his tongue soaking in her taste for the first time.

  “While I medically understand what you must be going through, I must admit that I find myself freaked out. The girl isn’t even awake to enjoy your . . . affections.”

  Zen jerked back at the sound of Vedlyl’s voice. Slowly, he turned his head toward the God of Medicine.

  “I was just stopping by to check on her, but if you need some more time with your R’ma, by all means—”

  Zen dematerialized, reappearing in front of Vedlyl and slamming his blond, curly haired ass against the wall.

  “Fix. Her,” he growled, not even bothering to hide his fangs.

  “If I could do that,” Ved began, nonchalantly grabbing Zen’s wrists and moving his hands away, “she’d be awake already.”

  The anger that coursed through Zeniel at those words made his extremities go numb.

  “Zen, you need to calm down. Your eyes—”

  “I know!” Zen’s scream was loud enough to make the walls shake.

  A small whimper came from the direction of the bed. Heart racing, he flashed back to the bed and leaned over a scowling Eve.

  “I’m sorry, little one. I’m sorry.” He ran his fingers through her thick black hair, brushing it away from her face. “Vedlyl, this isn’t a normal coma. She’s responsive.”

  “We are aware of this. But her powers are—”

  “Massive. I can sense them. What powers though? We both know that a God cannot exist at full power without a purpose.”

  “I can’t answer that for you.”

  He cracked his neck, trying to push back the roar building in his head. “Can’t? Or won’t?”

  “I honestly can’t. I have no idea yet. All I can tell you is what Nylicia and I know. What you already know. Her powers, whatever they are, are expanding, morphing inside her. On top of that, her mind is replaying whatever happened in her past.”

  Zen knew exactly what had happened. Remembering it made the burn at the back of his neck worse.

  “ . . . taking all that into account, it’s no wonder her body is overwhelmed,” Ved continued, stopping behind Zen and staring down at Eve. His neon green eyes traveled over her form, his pupils flashing between blue and yellow as he studied her.

  Zeniel’s control was pretty much non-existent at that point, and standing there, staring at his female and not being able to do anything to help her had him on the verge of going nuclear. He felt like he was seconds away from losing control of Mavrak. He felt impotent, and considering his current state, that shit wasn’t good for anybody.

  Especially his R’ma.

  “You will call me the moment she shows any signs of change.” It wasn’t a question. It didn’t need to be one.

  “Try not to fight it, Zen. Trust me on that.”

  Zen froze, feeling torn between using Ved as a stress-ball and begging him for advice. “I understand that what lies within you is as monstrous as what lies within me . . .”

  “Even more so,” was Vedlyl’s solemn response.

  “Either way, we both know that when it comes to
control, you’re much better at it than I ever was.”

  Vedlyl lowered his head, the sunlight glinting off his platinum blond hair. “If control is what you call it. The only reason I have it is because I do not fight what’s inside me. I feed it. In small doses, but I feed it.”

  “So you’re saying that I have to feed Mavrak in small doses? Right. And figuratively speaking, how long do I need to ‘feed’ him in order to begin to control him? We’re talking centuries, aren’t we? Did you forget that my mate is lying in the bed behind you?”

  “I did not. And it’s no one’s fault but your own. You’ve been suppressing him for . . . what? Eleven thousand years, almost twelve?”

  “Roughly,” Zen said from between clenched teeth.

  “Well, there you go. You have your answer.”

  Choking the ever living fuck out of Ved was looking better and better by the second.

  “I wouldn’t try that if I were you. I’ve been too busy to actually ‘feed’ myself lately, and conflict of any kind is the last thing I need. As you can see, I have a patient to take care of.”

  “I’m going to have to isolate myself, you know that. If I let him out around any of you . . .”

  “Your penance stare will rip us to shreds, Ghost Rider. I am aware.”

  Zeniel cringed. “You need to spend less time with Cyake. Seriously.”

  “Actually, he hates those movies. Probably has something to do with him being the Lucifer to your Johnny Blaze.”

  “All right, that’s it. I’m out of here. You’ll call me the moment she shows any sign of waking.” Or if she gets worse. But he didn’t say that out loud. He couldn’t. “I’m also going to need something to bind myself. The only thing strong enough is Gleipnir.”

  “Cyake has the binds in his room. Stole them from Asgard during his last visit.”

  Zen rolled his eyes up toward the sky. “I’m not even going to ask. Just have him bring it to my room. And you will—”

  “I heard you the first time. Call you the moment she shows any signs of change. Just make sure you’re accessible. Oh, and here’s some advice. Stop being a coward and find someone, or hell, something worthy of the punishment you’re going to dish out.”