Stigmata

by L M Adams

  Now that Azazael has fused my personalities back together; I often feel a little lost without her voice, although, I know she’s there, because she is me and I am her. All of that evil practicality, that ability to torture a man to death and feel no regret… that is who I am now. Along with the baby girl and her insatiable thirst to be used as a complete slave in any way a man wants her. I am she as well.

  Being a goddess is complicated.

  Today I feel in-tune with one intent… all of me wants to be their wife in some facet or another. We want Lucien and Jack to be powerful allies, able to deliver us the world on a silver platter if we wished it so. Or to protect us from a world that sometimes scares us. All of me wants them to be my companions in this thing called life and there is no discourse in my heart over the fact.

  I lay in the sudsy water and twirl my black engagement rings on my finger, they’d asked me to be their wife when I was at my lowest point. They loved me when the world had used me up and thrown me away. They loved me knowing that I had been defiled in horrid ways and orgasmed while it was happening. They loved me after I got pregnant by another man and mourned with me when I lost that baby. They loved me in truth and completely with selfless devotion.

  They loved me when I didn’t think there was anything left to love – and they will never stop… I felt their hearts last night while they were under the throes of my essence. Even this far I felt their need, I felt their reality and under all of that carnal desire was the truth I’ve always known, there is no other for them just as there are no others for me, not really, not in the ways that count.

  “Jaevia, get out of the water before you turn into a mermaid!” My mother calls from the massive bedroom.

  I could be the queen of the universe and she’d still talk to me like I was twelve I’d hazard. In her mind, mom of the queen trumps queen… and no one is going to tell Sidra Knightley any differently.

  “Coming,” because what is a daughter-queen to do but to listen to the mother-queen?

  I get out of the water, dry off, lotion myself and put on my undergarments and a black silk robe… I remember when I could only afford that purple satin robe with the black lace trim… I loved that robe, but nothing feels like real silk gliding over my pampered flesh.

  Money is seductive. Goddess please don’t let me get used to living like this. I firmly blame Jack for always stuffing the good shit down my throat.

  As I thought, the main chamber of my suite is a madhouse. A buzz of movement by six or so women… why do I need six people to help me put on a dress?

  But I bite down on my tongue and sit down in the seat my mother is waiving towards, “Come Jaevia, we’re already running late.”

  Soon I find out why I need six people. One each takes a hand and foot and begins doing my nails, cleaning, shaping, buffing, painting. I have two more on my hair, blow drying, curling, rolling. I’m terrified to move in any one direction.

  “This couldn’t have been done as like a one at a time activity?” I yell over the hair dryer, looking at my mother as she looks down at her tablet – should have never gotten that woman a tablet.

  “Jaevia – we are on a tight schedule, be a good daughter for once and don’t complain.”

  I try to… I really try to. But by the time my hair is dry my scalp is on fire and both of the hairdressers are bleeding from being nicked by my horns. This is fucking horrible – I want Jack!

  “Jaevia be still before one of them losses a hand!” My mother snaps as the bandaged women begin curling my hair.

  “Maybe you would have preferred to have me strapped down,” I seethe.

  “It did cross my mind,” she looks up from the tablet, “it could still be arranged.”

  I roll my eyes so hard I can almost see my own brain, “You know this is supposed to be my day.”

  “And it is daughter, but you have never really understood the correlation between beauty and pain,” she shrugs.

  “And whose fault is that?”

  She looks up from her tablet again, surprised. “Honestly Jaevia, I did everything that I could. You are the one who preferred to live as little more than a feral animal.”

  “It was more fun; you didn’t really expect me to be happy with learning needlepoint and make-up techniques while I watched the boys play with wooden swords and go on grand adventures… did you?”

  “A mother could hope, but… I must admit, I admire the woman you’ve become. Strong, independent, capable.”

  I smile at her, “Thanks.”

  She nods, “Of course, but now you must suffer through the prettying up uncomfortably because you are not used to it.”

  “I just don’t like all of these strange people touching me…” I mutter honestly. Finally figuring out what’s wrong.

  “Ladies give us a moment,” my mother calls for a break and I’m happy to see them go – my anxiety lessens immediately.

  My mother goes over to the serving cart and makes us both mimosas.

  “You still have trouble with unfamiliar energies?”

  I sigh, “Sometimes. I’m used to being around people out… but this is different for some reason.”

  “You weren’t prepared, you’re in your dressing gown, no armor, no sword… you feel vulnerable. That’s hard for a victim to endure.”

  She brings over the glass and then steps back giving me space.

  “I don’t want to be a victim anymore,” I sigh.

  “Sorry to tell you this, but you always will be. You have no control over that, you only have control with how you will handle it. I thought females would make it easier for you.”

  I look at her in shock. “You mean, you actually thought about that when setting this up?”

  “Of course, Jaevia, you are the most important thing in my life. Of course I’m going to make sure you are comfortable and feel safe and secure.”

  That actually makes me feel better… just knowing my mother understands.

  I nod, “Okay, let’s finish, I can handle it.”

  “Good, and don’t forget – I am here, and you are in control, you are safe.”

  After identifying the problem, and talking with my mother, I feel much more at ease. I didn’t think I still had any lingering issues from my time at Camp Haven, and maybe I don’t have those blaring, soul shattering, debilitating panic attacks… but I still have the scars. I have to remember to be patient with myself, to set boundaries where I need them, and not apologize for it.

  Some things are part of my reality – if I wish them to be or not.

  My mother pulls up a chair and sits down, we begin talking like old girlfriends and I relax even as I’m poked and prodded to high hell. Because she is here, and I am in control.

  “Any final advice?” I ask and take a sip of my mimosa.

  “Let them win an argument every now and again. Save their pride as long as it doesn’t cause damage to your own, never be afraid of admitting when you’re wrong – and loving them when everything is perfect is easy; marriage is loving them when everything is going wrong.”

  “One more question,” I look at her, “do you think you would have chosen a man like Poppa if the Kindred hadn’t paired you two?”

  She laughs, her voice carrying the sound of magic and secret sin, “Absolutely not.”

  “Yet you love Da…. Right?”

  “Beyond measure,” she smiles, “life isn’t always predictable. What you believe works and fits together doesn’t always work out at all… Lucien is a good man.”

  “I know… I just wonder… would I have been with him if not for the pairing.”

  She huffs, “That man would hunt you through the cosmos.”

  I laugh, “He does feel… inevitable.”

  “Then why are you still resisting?”

  “I’m not…”

  “Yes you are, you’re afraid of giving up control still. If he’s this insufferable as a mate, just imagine him as a husband.”

  “Maybe… a bit, it’s just…”
/>   “Hard to do because of what you are – you are a natural Domina marrying herself to a very dominant man. We enjoy our men pliant, controllable; this is our nature, we are wary of the more dominant types.”

  “Why?”

  “For they are the ones who would challenge our rule.”

  “Luey wouldn’t…”

  She nods, “I agree, but he comes from the same breed who believed women should not rule – your natural instincts are reminding you of that. But you know Lucien, you know he wouldn’t.”

  I nod, “I don’t want to be queen any way.”

  “Well you are,” she stands up, “at least for the day.”

  My mother is determined and soon they are done transforming me into the perfect princess daughter she’s always wanted. I tuck away that lingering fear that Lucien would ever force me to be a subservient puppet on his arm… that’s just not my Luey.

  The servants leave, now there are only the finishing touches.

  I look at my reflection in the full body mirror and cannot believe that it’s me. My long purple hair is curled to perfection, my dark makeup applied with art and skill, the purple eyeshadow making the purple of irises of my eyes glow without any power. My neck looks longer and more elegant with the three million credit black and white diamond necklace gracing it.

  But my dress is truly a work of art. Form fitting, all black, off the shoulder… all hand stitched with silver thread. The dress has a long train that will sweep behind me, it’s the only thing I was bit flamboyant about. My back is mostly out, the dress stops right above the gentle dip to my ass.

  My mother steps up behind me, already dressed as well. But she is in all white – everyone but Lucien, Jack and I will be wearing pure white – we are wearing black. We are the darkness, we are the evil, we are the touch of sin in a pure world.

  “You are beautiful, my queen…” she murmurs and holds up the diadem that Jack had made me order with a raised eyebrow.

  I sigh internally, but if there was a day for me to wear it and not look like a pompous asshole – this would be it, “Okay.”

  She settles it on my head and fixes my hair around it, one large black diamond teardrop hangs down to the middle of my forehead, the rest of the crown is a white diamond and platinum… Jack spared no expense.

  “Well, if I’m going to be a show – I might as well be entertaining,” I release the glamour I was holding to hide my horns. I let myself shine through… as I am.

  “Perfect,” my mother whispers and I feel her love wash over me.

  “Thanks, Momma.”

  Némion and Dani come into the room, both of them also wearing white. Dani’s dress style is pretty close to my mother’s. Form fitting, off the shoulder, a hint of décolletage, mid-calf length. Némion’s dress is a bit different than everyone else’s, it’s still form-fitting, but she’s wearing long sleeves and gloves and her dress covers her from neck to ankle. I didn’t take any issue with it. I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable in any way – she’s a victim, I want her to always feel safe and secure.

  Dani smiles stepping forward, gushing with energy, “My queen, you are truly a vision,” she squeals.

  She is the only human in my crazy entourage, yet I never feel judged by her, or like she fears me. Dani is just an all-around nice person and I wish all of mankind would be a little more like her.

  “Thank you,” I smile gently back at her.

  Even Némion gives me a bit of a smile – or at least her approximation of one, “A queen worthy to serve,” she bows her head to me.

  Jack once told me vampires like their royalty to look like royalty. I guess Némion is not very different in that aspect. I nod my head to her with respect.

  “All right ladies,” my mother gets our attention, “I will be going ahead now, you need to leave no later than thirty minutes from now.”

  “Yes, queen-mother,” Némion nods her to my mother with all the deference in the world.

  “Queen-mother, I do like the sound of that…” my mother muses as she leaves.

  “See what you’ve started,” I sigh with a smile.

  I have another drink, or five, and then finally gather my courage to see this thing through – there’s no backing out of it now.

  When I step out into the hallway, I’m surprised to see my full guard lined up, every one of them dressed in pure white tuxes with white bowties, every one of them looking as dashing as they are deadly.

  Carter is the one that steps forward to take my arm, “My queen.” And today, for once, I let myself feel like I am.

  “Carter,” I smile at him.

  “May I take a moment to tell you how beautiful you are?”

  I chuckle, “Don’t let this dress fool you, I can still kick your ass.”

  “Any place, any time,” he murmurs gently.

  His energy is good, even and pure and just good. He still smells of death – but it reminds me more of a rotting forest floor instead of meat that has turned bad. It's not an altogether unpleasing scent. It makes me think of the rough outdoors and the smell of Willows Wood back home on Ra’suá.

  They lead me out of the hotel and to my motorcade, lined up in front and back of me, Némion and Dani, my bubble of protection is uncontested.

  It’s a perfect day – warm and sunny but not overly humid. My hair just might make it. I get into the back of my black stretch limo SUV and we head off back to Baltimore.

  Dani keeps up a steady stream of conversation, but I’m anxious to get back to Jack and Lucien, I don’t like being this long without having at least one of them close.

  When had I become so used to that? To them? That now it feels strange to be without their energies?

  When had life without them become impossible to bear?

  38

  Jaevia - Wedding

  “Where are we going?” I ask as the limo turns down towards Druid Hill Park instead of taking the road to the warehouse.

  I look from the window towards Némion and then Dani, both of them stare out of the window like they didn’t hear me.

  “Guys?” I warn gently.

  “It’s a surprise, just sit back,” Dani smiles reassuringly at me, Némion studies her nails, probably checking for the skin of her victims beneath the perfectly manicured black pits of death painted fingertips.

  I sigh and sit back, relaxing in my seat. I trust them, I trust Némion and Dani – I trust them with my life. Perhaps this is something my two men cooked up; I smile.

  The park is beautiful, the trees strong and bursting with life, I can almost feel the magic of Gaia radiate out. It’s been some time since I’ve been in the park, but I can’t ever recall is seeming so healthy. Surprisingly, it seems all but deserted, I don’t see a single other soul. Perhaps it’s too early for the drunks and drug addicts, pimps and pushers to be out?

  Goddess but the woods are so gorgeous, everything so full and vibrant, but perhaps I’m seeing things through the eyes of a happy woman about to get married to the loves of her lives.

  I huff, smiling. I really never thought this would be me. I grew up dreaming of honor and murder and serving my Kindred. Love, even as a half succubus, never really was a concern. Now look at me, death dealer, reaper; ass kicking, boot stomping Jaevia Knightley... about to get hitched.

  We ride past the large reservoir lake, the sun glinting off the surface of the water just so, everything infinitely peaceful and beautiful. As we round another corner on one of the windy roads that leads further into the park, I swear I spot those horses again, the ones I’d seen when we’d driven past the other day to go to the Eventide Youth Center, but again the sighting is fleeting and they seem to disappear into the ether.

  The limousine stops on the road… in front of my waiting father. He’s dressed in his crisp white tux, standing on the stone laid sidewalk, waiting patiently. I look to Némion and Dani again, but each of them just gives me a blank stare, they’re not going to say a word.

  My father opens the door and holds
out his hand to help me from the car.

  “My princess,” he smiles lightly and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear the formidable Kendon Knightley has tears in his eyes.

  I smile up to him as I step from the limousine, being careful of my dress, “Da, what is going on?”

  “You never were a patient one, were you, Button?”

  I blush horribly so; he hasn’t called me that since I was a toddler it seems! Not since the day I stomped into his study at the ripe old age of seven and told him I wanted to become a Reaper, that day he saw something in my eyes perhaps, but that was the day my father stopped seeing me as Button, his adorable baby girl – and started seeing me as a future sister of Abaddon the Destroyer.

  He closes the limousine door and it pulls off… leaving us behind.

  “Are we to walk the rest of the way then?” I raise an eyebrow, still smiling, because I wouldn’t mind a last walk with my father before I become a married woman.

  He raises an eyebrow, seeming devilishly handsome in his white tux and shirt, a burnished silver ascot with an amethyst pin.

  “Perhaps, a bit,” he holds out his arm and I loop mine in his as we begin strolling down the stone laid path, the trail of my black gown dragging behind us.

  “I am… a simple man, Jaevia.”

  I huff, “I know, Da.”

  He stops where there is a break in the trees and turns to me, taking both of my hands in his.

  “Live with honor, die with honor… it has been my guiding principle… but my joy has always been you. I was a man lost after, your brother….” He clears his throat trying to hold back the emotion he so seldom shows, “…Dixon. And joy was not found in my heart until your mother came in and refused to let me live out my days nursing… so many old wounds. She told me there was plenty of life to live and if I would trust her but a bit, she could show me the way… you were the way Jaevia…”