by Jade Kerrion
The return of the scouts typically ushered interest and hope, but the mood was bleak when Ashra stepped into the chamber for the debriefing. The other three icrathari had gathered too. The vampire Dana, the leader of the scouts, slumped in a chair, the rips in her leather clothes offering glimpses of bruises and scrapes marring her pale skin. Ashra’s gaze swept over the two weary vampires hunkered around Dana. She tensed; too few had returned.
“What news?”
“Little, and none of it good,” Dana said, her voice faltering. She dragged a hand through her short dark hair. “We saw two roving bands of daevas, but could not get close enough to plant a tracker.”
“Did they see you?” Ashra asked.
Dana shook her head.
“Then what happened to your team?”
“We ran into an immortali.”
Ashra’s eyes widened. “Which one?”
“I don’t know. We didn’t stop to ask his name, and he didn’t seem like the chatty type. He killed Tyrone and Cade before we realized he was there, and shredded through the rest of us while we fled.” Dana shook her head. “Loth and Mord didn’t make it. We couldn’t stop to kill them. He was…” Her voice caught, and she swallowed hard. “He ate them alive.”
Elsker drew his breath in sharply. “How many more immortali do you think are out there?”
Tera shrugged. Her leather wings rustled softly as she shifted her weight. “At least a dozen. It’s hard to get an accurate count. Thank the Creator, they’re solitary hunters.”
Elsker shook his head. “By rights, they shouldn’t exist. The responsibility…the fault is ours. We should have known better than to transform humans into elder vampires. All we’ve succeed in doing is creating insane elder vampires—the immortali.”
Siri folded her arms across her chest. Her voice was cool. “Do you fear research and experimentation, Elsker?”
“Only when it leads to disaster.” He threw his hand out in a gesture that encompassed the city. The soft glow of lights emanated from houses and buildings beneath the eternal moon. “The immortali are unthinking, unfeeling monsters.”
“Not so unthinking if they’ve found a way to survive the sunlight.”
“Our experiments have yielded tragedy. The humans can’t handle full infusions of pure icrathari blood, not anymore. We haven’t produced an elder vampire in generations. It’s folly to keep trying.”
“We have to keep trying. Elder vampires are infinitely faster and stronger. They heal quicker. They can do anything the icrathari can do, except fly. Using a mixture of icrathari blood and vampire blood to transform humans is subpar. The potency of icrathari blood in vampires has waned. We need stronger vampires.” Siri threw Dana a glance. “No offense intended.”
Dana shrugged. “None taken.” She pushed to her feet, probed one of the many lacerations on her abdomen, and winced. “I’m going to get my nutrient injections and some rest before I take my team out again. Are there any suitable recruits in the most recent batch of humans chosen last night?”
Her question was innocent, even expected. Talented and capable adult humans were recruited at each full moon to fill the vampiric ranks; the unending burden of protecting Aeternae Noctis demanded it.
Ashra looked up. She met and held Dana’s quizzical gaze. “Jaden Hunter was taken.”
Dana’s green eyes widened. “No! You promised.”
“Not all promises can be kept. The humans look to him as one of their emerging leaders—”
“So you took him to eliminate a threat?”
“He killed two vampires, Dana.”
“He did?” Surprised pride flashed through her eyes.
“He is also the protector of the child of prophecy.”
Dana scoffed. “Do you believe the nonsense that humans tell themselves to keep hope alive?”
“It doesn’t matter what I believe. It only matters what they believe, what they’d be willing to fight and die for.”
“But you can’t turn him. We had a bargain.”
“A bargain that became void when he became a threat to Aeternae Noctis.”
Dana spread her hands. “He is one human. How can he be a threat to the city?”
“I will be the judge of that,” Ashra said.
Siri chuckled softly. “Can you? With your heart on the line?”
Dana’s eyes narrowed. Her gaze flicked between Siri and Ashra. “Her heart?”
“Jaden has an ancient soul. You might even say that he’s older than all of us here,” Siri said.
“Stop the clever repartee,” Dana snapped. “What’s this about an ancient soul in Jaden?”
Tera’s slender shoulders moved in a graceful shrug. “Rohkeus.”
“Rohkeus. The founder of Aeternae Noctis?” Dana shook her head, the motion desperate, almost frantic. “No, that’s crazy. That’s impossible.”
“It’s true,” Tera said. “I tasted his soul too.”
Consternation flashed across Dana’s face. “Where is he now?”
“He is not your concern,” Ashra said.
Dana stalked up to Ashra. At five and a half feet, the vampire loomed over the diminutive icrathari. “He will always be my concern.”
Ashra remained unmoved.
Dana’s brow furrowed. “You and Rohkeus were lovers, weren’t you?”
Ashra arched an eyebrow but said nothing.
Silence filled the space between them. The vampire chuckled, the sound hollow. “You’d make a terrible daughter-in-law.”
Ashra exploded into laughter. The amusement that bubbled up caught her off guard, the first flicker of humor that had dared shine on the dull grind of endless responsibility in years, perhaps even decades. She extended her hand to the vampire. “I think we can agree not to be family.”
Dana stared at Ashra’s hand, but did not accept it. She shook her head, her lips pressed into a tight line. “But what would that mean for Jaden? I have to see him, please. You can’t deny me my son. It’s been twenty-three long years.”
Deal with it. I survived for a thousand years without Rohkeus. “Jaden was five when you were taken. He has no memory of you.”
“I must see him.”
Ashra could think of a hundred reasons why not, yet Dana was right. A mother had a right to her child. “Very well. Come with me.”
She could have dived down the shaft next to the tower’s palladium glass core—Rohkeus had designed the tower for icrathari—but since Dana accompanied her, the two women stepped onto the waiting elevator instead. The elevator, little more than a square platform without any doors or walls, glided down through the many levels of Malum Turris.
In a race against time, against annihilation, Rohkeus had designed and built Malum Turris and Aeternae Noctis to be functional, not pretty. A millennium later, “pretty” still had not found its way to the city of eternal night. The tower, the central support structure for the dome, was constructed of a carbon steel alloy, which guaranteed a perpetual chill in the air. The black-sheened walls and floor stole the body heat of every living being. Fortunately, the icrathari and vampires were immune to the cold. As a human, though, Jaden would suffer, his torment unrelenting.
Ashra gritted her teeth against the sudden ache in her chest. She needed no reminder that there was no place for humans in Malum Turris. There was no place for Jaden in the tower or in her life.
Dana dragged her lean fingers through her hair. “What is he like? How is he?”
“He was hurt.”
“What? How badly?”
Ashra shrugged. “Tera was gentle with him.”
“He fought Tera?” Dana shook her head. “And she didn’t break all the bones in his body the way she did to the last human who challenged her?”
“No, she tasted his soul instead, and found enough reason to hold back.” The elevator passed the narrow entrance to the ark, and then continued toward the lower levels where machinery churned, their oiled gears and meticulously maintained engines keeping Aeternae Noctis al
oft and functioning.
The holding cells were on the lowest level, tucked among the carbon steel foundational pillars that held up the city. The cells were rarely used; rogue vampires were quickly executed. Ashra had neither time nor patience for insubordination; life in Aeternae Noctis hung by too thin a thread to risk sabotage by a disgruntled underling.
Dana followed Ashra through the maze of corridors. The icrathari paused beside the biometric scanner that controlled the lock on the door. Dana walked past her to stand in front of the door.
Ashra threw the vampire a glance. “Are you certain about seeing him?”
“Yes.”
Ashra inclined her head in acknowledgment and leaned forward into the iris-recognition device. The biometric confirmation of her identity took only a moment. The lock snapped back, and the door slid to one side.
Jaden lunged out, tackling Dana. He spun her around in a smooth motion and shoved hard, the momentum hurling her into the cell. His leather boots made scarcely any sound as he raced down the corridor.
A smile, rare and involuntary, curved Ashra’s lips. With a chuckle, she took to the air; her wings spread and beat down, carrying her aloft. Like almost everything else in Malum Turris, the corridor was wide and high to allow the icrathari their greatest advantage, flight. She overtook the human and landed in front of him on soundless feet.
His eyes widened with equal parts disbelief and horror. “Ashra.”
Her breath caught at her name on his lips.
Was he as confused and bewildered as she was by his seemingly instinctive recognition of her? He must have heard someone call her by name. He could not have known it otherwise. Yet, when Ashra searched her flawless memory, she found no mention of her name, at least not in his hearing.
She stared into his eyes, those beautiful eyes with flecks of gold embedded in emerald green. Damn him, those were Rohkeus’s eyes. The human had no right to reenter her hard-won normal life, no right to disrupt it. Her wings beat down hard, a single motion that carried her up so that she could stare straight into his face. “No,” she breathed so softly that only he could hear. Where were you when I needed you? Where were you when I almost died from losing you?
Grabbing his face in her hands, she pressed her lips to his, pouring all of her heartache and pain into that single kiss.
The human tensed from the intimate and invasive contact.
She did not release him. Within seconds, he would relax, his will weak and malleable beneath the icrathari’s sexual compulsion, and she would lure him back to his cell.
He jerked away from her. His lips bled—her fangs had cut into his sensitive skin—and his eyes were unfocused as he struggled to shake off her psychic influence. He took a single unsteady step back. Hate glittered in his narrowed eyes. He spit out a single word. “Demon.”
The backhanded fist he swung out caught her full across the face, and sent her sprawling to the cold tiles. Stunned by the impact, she pushed upright and stared after him, her eyes wide and incredulous as he scrambled past her, obviously seeking the exit. Had he actually resisted her and struck her?
How dare he?
She launched into the air and seized him from behind. Her fingernails extended. Razor sharp and curved like talons, they pierced his shoulders. She yanked him off his feet and hurled him away from her. He smashed into the wall and tumbled to the floor. A gasp of pain ripped from his lips. Leaning heavily against the wall, he dragged himself to his feet. He was still struggling upright when she closed in on him. She wrapped her fingers into his hair and pulled his head back.
“No,” Dana pleaded, emerging from the cell, her hand outstretched to a son who clearly had not recognized her.
Ashra lifted her chin, hardening her heart to the glaze of agony stretched over Jaden’s features. Her right hand tensed into a claw.
Rip his throat out. End this nightmare.
We both know it should never have come to this, Rohkeus. You should never have come back. There is no space for you in the city, in the tower, or in my heart.
His gaze focused on her. There was no plea for mercy in his eyes. Terror and fear had apparently no foothold on him, but hate simmered—not hot and violent, but cold and dark—the kind of hate that had been nurtured over decades.
She swallowed hard through her clogged throat. There is no hope for us, not if you see only a demon when you look at me.
Poised to tear out his throat, she drew her arm back and lashed down, striking out like a snake, but Dana’s fingers closed around her wrist, snatching it up from its deathblow. Ashra slammed the human’s head against the wall, knocking him unconscious, and dropped him to the floor before turning to face Dana.
“How dare you?” Her tone was mild, but the words were not.
Rebellion against the icrathari had cost many humans and vampires their lives, but Dana did not cower even though she must have known she stood no chance against an ancient icrathari. The vampire crouched low and bared her teeth in a snarl. “You can’t kill him.”
Ashra shook her silver hair away from her face. Her wings rippled as she arched her back. “We are monsters to him. Humanity’s nightmare.”
Dana’s hands curled into fists. “We earned those distinctions, and if you kill him, you’ll cement their impressions of us.”
Ashra shrugged, the graceful motion dismissive. It was a pity Dana would have to die too. She strode toward the vampire, but paused at the sound of a low hum pulsing through the tower. Ashra’s gaze flashed down the corridor toward the east. Beyond the tangled maze of undifferentiated walls lay the reinforced carbon steel doors that barred the sole exit from Aeternae Noctis.
Indecision flickered through her, but practicality won out. Perhaps in another time and place, Dana would have died for her insubordination, but with the city under attack, Ashra had a better use for Dana’s talents
She beckoned to the vampire. “We have work to do.” She did not look back at the injured and unconscious man slumped on the floor as she hurried down the corridor.
Dana hesitated for only a moment before falling into step beside her.
Ashra paused by one of the many thresholds that partitioned the corridor. Her fingers tapped an impatient rhythm against the communications console. “Siri?”
Siri’s voice sounded thin through the device set into the wall. “Daevas, at least fifty of them. I activated the pulsar shields, but they’re persistent. Elsker and Tera are heading out; Tera says she’s going to reason with them.”
Ashra swallowed the snort of laughter. Tera reasoned with the edge of her blades. “How many vampires are accompanying her?”
“Not nearly enough,” Siri said, her normally calm voice laced with tension. “We lost too many in the last battle, and the humans we turned into vampires last night are still recovering from blood sickness.”
“Dana and I are going out.”
“Should I come too?” Siri asked.
“No. Stay and mind the city.”
With Dana keeping pace beside her, Ashra raced through the labyrinthine belly of Aeternae Noctis. Just before they entered the farthest eastern chamber, she tossed a glance at a glowing red eye of the camera swiveling over the threshold and nodded, trusting that Siri was paying attention to the monitor.
Siri was. The carbon steel doors pulled back; the floor yawned apart. Ashra seized Dana around the waist and dove through the opening doors. The blackened ground rushed up at them. Ashra’s wings flared enough to turn a free fall into a controlled dive. Four feet from the ground, she released Dana, who rolled forward and came up in a battle crouch. Ashra’s wings beat back, snatching her from her dive, and she soared up through the thin air.
She threw a glance over her shoulder. Aeternae Noctis, protected beneath the dome and carried a hundred feet above the blackened ground, shuddered past her. A perpetual wind swept in its wake, its bite cold and cruel.
Shrieks and howls sliced through the night as icrathari and vampires battled daevas in the air and on the gr
ound. Ashra caught glimpses of Tera and Elsker as they tore daevas from the sky, and sent them hurtling to the ground where the vampires waited like hounds trained to kill. The moon bathed the night in its silver glow, but Aeternae Noctis shrouded large swathes of battlefield in the massive shadow it cast.
Still, she did not need light to fight, not when the daevas’ eyes glowed bright yellow.
A snarl, low and threatening, rippled toward her. Ashra spun around as a daeva hurled itself at her, bat-like wings unfurled and talons outstretched. Its claws scored through her gown, but did not mark her skin. It was clearly a young daeva, lacking both strength and wisdom; if it had known better, it would have attacked a vampire instead. Remorseless, Ashra wrapped a hand around its neck and squeezed. Its leathery skin, baked by the punishing heat of the sun during the day might have proved resistant to a vampire’s claws, but it offered no protection against an icrathari’s strength.
Bone cracked in her hand. The daeva’s eyes flared wide, and it gasped. Panicked, its wings beat down as it tried to break free from her, but it was too late. Ashra drove her other hand into its stomach, her claws tearing through its hardened flesh. She tightened her grip around its neck until bone crumbled in her unforgiving grip, severing the daeva’s spine. With a wheeze, it died.
Even the immortals could perish. One only had to know how exactly to kill them.
The icrathari knew much about the daevas. The seemingly demonic creatures, originally descended from the four icrathari who had chosen not to enter Aeternae Noctis, had been altered by the harshness of their environment and a millennium of subsequent evolution. The only traits the daevas and icrathari still appeared to share were the gift of flight and of accelerated healing.
Common ground vanished a thousand years prior. Any hope for peace perished shortly thereafter. Centuries of war over the control of Aeternae Noctis had torn their species apart.
On the ground, Tera’s vampire army fought in groups of three—two to hold the daeva’s attention, the third to strike the killing blows. Ashra needed no such distraction. Daevas scattered out of her flight path, flapping madly as she spun into a dive. She snatched a daeva from the air. It screeched, howling with pain as she ripped through its stomach. Its scream faded into silence when she tore its head from its shoulders. Her wings unfurled to their full ten feet as she soared up and hurled the daeva’s head and body into another winged demon.