by L M Adams
Jack… being Jack, makes a show and takes the woman’s hand in his own and goes down on one knee beside her chair. He kisses the air above her knuckles.
“Bonjour tante, comment vas-tu,” he murmurs gently.
“My Jackie boy,” she smiles like the loving auntie Jack considers her to be.
He chuckles, “I’d kill anyone else who ever called me that.”
She rolls her eyes and looks up at Lucien, “And how is the God of the Sun on this gloomy day?”
“Fine,” Lucien keeps it short.
Margo huffs, “Think you could do something about this dreadful weather then?”
Lucien sighs, “I’m not that kind of god.”
“Ah, then you’re the useless sort.”
Jack laughs and gets to his feet, “He has other talents.”
Margo waggles her eyebrows a bit, “I just bet.”
“Margo!” Jack hisses.
She lets go of Jack’s hand and grabs the knob on her chair, spinning it around in a perfect 180, “Oh really, Jackie – you think you’re doing anything new under the sun?! I have some stories I could tell you!”
“I’d rather go deaf,” Jack says with drolly.
Margo finds that hilarious as she leads us to the back of the shop and through a set of black curtains.
She leaves hidden the expanse of fine jewels that would be on display if she were to drop the glamour. I already know that she’s powerful; her line comes from Hephaestus, the god’s smithy, unmatched in skill, skill he gained because he was thrown from their kingdom for having a deformity… a clubbed foot.
In all actuality, I believe she’s close to daemon – but how she ended up here and not living a life devoted to the Kindred – I don’t think I’ll ever know.
The Kindred uses seers to pair us for procreation… mixes of different supernatural races can come out badly. Physical deformities, high mortality rates, uncontrollable magic. I truly believe Margo is an example of that… yes technically she’s a witch, Bâtardi, but she’s so close to daemon I think the same thing may have happened to her… a bad mix.
When I was queen, I’d be concerned about that, I’d think about setting up testing facilities and databases so that the supernaturals coming from Ra’suá could make informed decisions before having a child… but I’m not queen anymore… so whatever.
The back of the shop is gorgeous, dark gray walls with accent lights just to show off the dazzling colors of the jewels she’s made with gifted hands. Everything from crowns to scepters to thigh and arm cuffs lay on black velvet clothed pedestals.
I wonder for a moment if the thigh cuff Valentine gave me for my birthday some years ago, came from here – and then I think about Valentine, which I didn’t mean to do.
Another someone I’ll never forget or forgive.
Margo navigates behind a tall table with three chairs in front. She nods for the three of us to sit. Jack guides me to take the center chair. Jack sits on my left and Lucien on my right.
The table is bare but for a silver bowl filled with a silver powder sitting in the middle. Margo has us all join hands, like a séance.
I know what happens next, I try to clear my mind – clear it of today’s stresses and disappointments. I try to let it all wash away so that the only thing within me is what I feel for Lucien and Jack.
She uses actual intent to mold the rings. A magic that will allow us to always carry a bit of each other with us… no matter how far we go. We are literally giving one another small pieces of our souls. Like hell I want them to walk around without at least a piece of me to call their own.
Odd… but I find it easier to connect to my love of them – maybe seeing the crowd of people that hate me, seeing Peter – reminded me of what was important and what Lucien and Jack mean to me. Because they have seen behind the veil, they have seen the ugly… and they are still here.
Margo’s aura comes into view. She is shrouded in power… a descendent of the gods. Some of their creations are perfect in their imperfections.
She focuses my emotions for me, organizes them. The silver powder lifts from the bowl and makes a spherical shape, large and round, turning gently. The sphere splits into two smaller spheres and one floats in the air in front of Lucien and Jack. They begin turning again, taking shapes of rings.
“Look at Lucien,” Jack whispers and I turn to look at my fearsome beast who’s more of a teddy bear.
His aura is golden with hints of red, as powerful as it is volatile.
“Just think about what you feel for him… why do you love him?” Jack whispers gently and my vision narrows to only Luey as the world drops away.
Our love wasn’t at first sight, it wasn’t at first touch, or first kiss… or even first fuck. As I sit here and look into Lucien’s eyes I can’t pinpoint exactly when we fell in love and yet our love feels eternal. There is no before or after our love. It is some universal constant that defies all logic.
For the first time, perhaps I finally glimpse what Lucien has always known – there is no world or existence where he does not love me, and I do not love him.
What we have wasn’t just built in our lifetime, what we have is the culmination of creation and the words ‘this man and this woman’ mean something more.
I watch the ring form and for once my heart beats clearly and the word ‘eternally’ appears on the inner surface of the ring scrawled beautifully. A simple word – but so deafening in its meaning, I am eternally his.
My vision… or thoughts expand and there, the linkage between Lucien and I, burns brightly… that linkage, that connectivity that we needed so desperately to evolve into forever beats with a heart… Jack’s heart. I can see my feelings and thoughts mirrored in Lucien.
I turn to look at my painfully beautiful vampire – the dark to my dark – the one who plays in the moonlight with me. I see us... he and me in a field of silver mooned lilies where there is nothing but he and me and the love that Neoma once knew for Gaia.
He was the lightning to my heart, the unexpected, he was the one who showed up and changed everything for me. Able to give so selflessly, to always put my needs above his own. Able to love me without limits or conditions... he taught Luey how to love me and in that fabric he weaved, he taught Luey how to love him as well.
Perhaps we will never be sure if Lucien’s love for Jack evolved only because of my love for Jack… or not. Lucien at his most elemental parts loves who I love and hates who I hate.
“It does not matter.” Lucien whispers and again forever makes sense to me.
Before, or after, or in conjunction with – it does not matter in matters of forever. There is only one thing that is of importance, I am eternally his, theirs, yours.
The second ring forms and the word ‘yours’ is scrawled mirroring eternally – eternally yours – yours eternally. Both words make sense before and after and together and apart. The rings fall to the cloth-covered table with a heavy thunk, and I know it is done, and it was done well.
I exhale over the taste of the magic and smile, “I did it,” I whisper both happy and proud of myself, that somewhere, somehow all of me found a way to love all of them. I don’t care if it comes from Azazael fusing my personalities back together… all I care about is the fact for once in my life all of me is in agreement – that Lucien and Jack are my forevers, this proves that.
29
Jaevia
The storm has passed by the time we leave the shop and the time of the eventide is coming. We all feel it; we all share both the power and the burden. When I first came into these powers, I thought I was the bridging of the moon and the sun – in some ways I am – but at times it is Lucien who is the bridging between us, at times it’s Jack. The Eventide is more than Moon and Sun, it is also Earth; it is the power of Atum and Isis and Ishtar, it is the power of Ra and Gaia and Neoma.
I am not the Eventide – we are.
“Come Jackie boy, let us get the queen home,” Lucien teases opening my door for me.
<
br /> “Call me Jackie boy again and I’ll make you regret it,” Jack raises his eyebrow at Lucien – daring him to challenge his word.
“Oh aye?” Lucien smiles, “How?”
Jack huffs, “In a way to wipe that smile off of your face.”
“For calling you Jackie boy? That is a bit much,” Lucien looks to me to back him up.
I laugh waving a hand as I get into the backseat of the truck, “I’m not getting in the middle of it.”
“What happened to the rule about measured responses?” He looks back at Jack.
“That rule is for you… not me,” Jack says getting into the truck.
“This is very unfair.”
“Take it up with the queen,” Jack closes the door on Lucien’s sputtering.
“He’s going to make you pay for that,” I chuckle as Lucien closes my door and walks around to get into the driver’s seat still looking a bit bewildered.
“Probably, be we like to keep things… interesting.”
I huff, “That’s one way to do it.”
The ride home is calming and peaceful – even while Jack and Lucien bicker about what is or isn’t fair when it comes to punishments. Because they’re not really fighting – they’re bonding in that weird way they have.
“You call me Jackie boy, I call you Luey.”
Lucien huffs, “Jaevia and Tricia are the only ones who have that privilege.”
“I’m going to be your husband.”
“Aye, which is why you can call me Daddy,” Lucien grins.
“Like hell I will.”
“Is this a challenge?”
“Only if you wish to end the night on all fours with my tongue licking your…”
“Capaneus!” Lucien shouts cutting him off.
“Don’t call me Jackie Boy,” Jack says sternly, “I put up with Capaneus.”
“It is your name,” Lucien grunts.
“I prefer Jack and you know it.”
“Why?”
“I just do, Capaneus – Cap – those are the names from my life before.”
“But it is a strong name, you should keep it.”
“It means arrogant.”
Lucien huffs, “It also means conqueror and king.”
Jack looks at him in shock, “You looked it up?”
Lucien grunts with a nod, “On the internet… and it is a good name… conqueror of Thebes, as you have conquered my heart.”
“Awwww,” I gush, and Jack looks of his shoulder to scowl at me, I grin.
Lucien ignores me, “It is a good name.”
Jack sighs looking back at Lucien, “I hate it when you get romantic in the middle of an argument… fine, you can keep calling me Capaneus.”
“And you can call me Daddy.”
Jack just groans – I don’t even know why he tries anymore.
They argue over the pet name thing the entire ride back, but we do make it back home without further incident. Of course the news media is still there – but they don’t seem to be armed with stakes ready to be plunged into my heart.
I sigh as we roll down the gravel driveway between the trees bursting with life. Home – it feels good to be here… out there the world is shit – but here I don’t have to deal with any of it.
At this point I’m probably one major life disappointment from being a complete shut-in.
“I want a drink, and no one is going to give me any shit over it,” I say firmly looking at Jack.
“As long as you don’t mind me joining you for that drink.”
Lucien grunts, “I as well – this has been a long day.”
Looks like the Eventide Triad is about to get sauced… at least I thought we were; until we make it into the warehouse and my father calls for a status update meeting.
It takes all of my might not to fall out on the floor and have a grown woman tantrum… I really don’t want to have a status update meeting, but it’s mildly less irritating than having to sit through a speech from my father about ‘duty’ and ‘honor’ and ‘responsibility’.
“Twenty minutes,” I mumble heading up the stairs to get changed into something comfortable. The heels are nice, expensive… but they still pinch after a long day of wearing them – supernatural or not – my feet hurt and if I have to sit through a meeting, I’m at least going to do it comfy.
I stop in the bathroom to take care of the necessities and finally mosey to the dressing room to get changed when I’d much rather get a cold beer and retreat to the roof. But keeping my father waiting isn’t a thing and reluctant queen or not, like hell I’m going to give him any indication he isn’t still respected… or feared – papas have a fragile pride.
Surprised, I find a pair of leggings, a tee and my flip-flops already set out.
“Jack,” I whisper with a smile.
All of those thoughtful little things that other men just never think of… he’s always perfect at that stuff. The stuff Lucien would never think of – not because he doesn’t care – but because he’s a bit daft when it comes to the sweet niceties.
Hell, I’m just as daft – I don’t really spend time trying to think of nice little things to do for them. I guess some people are just good at relationships and others just crash-course through them.
I change into the tee that says, ‘Sorry I’m late – I didn’t want to come’. I laugh as I shrug it on. I take the time to put my hair up in a ponytail – it’s more than long enough now, longer than it was when Hornigold chopped it off. I look at the reflection of me and realize that none of those scars still show… how easy the physical stuff fades and how long it takes the soul to repair – if it ever does.
Natural defenses kick in and I push the thoughts away as I go to join the others in the Command Center. They will always empathize, but they will never understand and there’s no need to bring that chaotic energy into the room with me.
I hurry back down the stairs, past the main level, and down to the basement. I step down onto the deep red floors, the walls are all painted black with a row of cabinets on the right side along with a coffee maker and a drink fridge Jack had Lucien put in. The large glass conference table that also acts as a computer screen sits in the center of the room with another large TV mounted to the wall at the end of the room.
Everyone is already here seated around the table – Lucien, Jack, Frank, Harper, my father and mother; Tabari would usually be here but I think he’s out working on something or another… I never really read those status and schedule reports Jack and Frank send out every morning; I have no idea what anyone does around here anymore… I don’t really care.
To the left is a short hallway which leads to the area that holds the mechanical systems, boiler, furnace, industrial washing machine and dryer, and also a cornered off storage area, which is now Tabari’s room.
Our weapons locker, holding cells, and dimensional portal are also on this level. I pause realizing its been some time since I’ve even been down here, there’s been no need since I quit – I wish my father could get that through his thick skull… But I’m more likely to get a pig to fly.
I take my seat at the head of the table, Jack on my left, Lucien on my right. Jack already has an ice-cold beer opened and waiting for me, sitting on a coaster – because he cares about things like that.
“Thanks,” I murmur sitting down and taking a swig of the icy magic potion full of hops. Hops… and coffee beans – what else does the world need?
“We have a few things to go over with you, my Queen,” Frank stands and walks down to the far end of the table and T.V. positioned there.
I do my best to seem at least mildly interested as Frank gives us reports of movements and issues of supernaturals the whole world over. When the Kindred decided to pack up and leave, they left a gaping hole to be filled. The only good thing is that the infrastructure is still there. Quite a few Cerberus Guards and full Reaper Teams stayed behind, joined my cause… I quit on them too.
Frank runs it all, he fell into it like a pi
xie to sweet cream. He loves making reports, and filing reports, and reading reports, and organizing reports, and stapling reports, and color-coding reports… if they’re double spaced and in Times New Roman font, he orgasms… I’d guess.
He’s the best suited for organizing… everything; and so he’s done exactly that. Currently we’re all looking at a fucking color-coded graph of supernatural activity, the line seems pretty flat.
Jack sits forward, “Everyone is still keeping a low profile?”
Frank nods, “I believe so. Especially with the…” he clears his throat, “unsure direction they now have.”
I sigh, “You mean since I’ve said fuck it all?”
He nods curtly, “The worst of the reports are coming out of California right now. I believe because of the frequency of natural disasters. It’s already destabilized the area, made tensions high – we are getting some reports of missing persons believed to have been murdered by supernaturals… possibly by witches, vampires – no one is sure.” Frank glances at me, “I’d like to look into it.”
“As always… I don’t care.”
“Jaevia,” my father starts with that disappointed tone, “you are the Queen, in good times and in bad.”
“Can you not start up again?” I take a sip of my beer.
“You are being childish… you were not raised like this!”
“Kendon!” My mother shouts, “If she doesn’t want to be bothered, she does not have to be. She’s had a difficult time and if this is too much for her, then we shall take care of it.”
That just pisses me off more – I’m not incapable, I don’t give a shit, there are miles of difference between those two things.
“I’m very much capable, but you saw them out there… with fucking picket signs?! That’s who I’m supposed to give a shit about?!”
“No,” my mother whispers looking into my eyes, “but do you honestly believe there is not a single person in all of the world who deserves your help?”
“That’s not what I’m saying…”
“Then what are you saying, Jaevia?”