Nitara turned her head, lifting her ear to the sound of an engine roaring outside of the door. “Yeah, one of these days.” She smirked and abandoned her own seat.
“Later, hot stuff.” The vampire grinned as he watched her cross the room until her figure faded to nothing. Nitara was planning a surprise entrance for the new arrivals. Laughing at the poor souls who would have to face her, he made his exit from the bar. Things were about to get sticky and the last thing he wanted was to be around to witness any of it.
The rowdy group fell through the doors. Each member was already overly intoxicated, but the group wanted more. This was what she’d come to expect from most of the vampires who frequented the bars. They were self-indulgent and had no sense of personal limits. Nitara remained cloaked in the shadows, as she watched them make complete fools of themselves. The bartender frowned as two of the drunken goofs fell onto the bar and knocked a bowl of cherries onto the floor. Without so much as an apology, they pounded on the bar and demanded service. The leader of their group—a tall, blond moron—laughed as he boasted about their latest roguish deeds.
“It’s only a matter of time, boys!” he yelled as the previous patrons began to leave. They wanted nothing to do with the chaos the group would undoubtedly cause. “Tyrellis is going down!”
“How many times have you said that shit, man? Cast give it up! Tyrellis is the king and you’re here drinking and dreaming with the rest of us,” another smaller vampire with short, dark hair and eyes too big for his face joked.
Nitara chuckled from her shadowed position. Even she had heard the leader of the drunks give the same speech more times than she cared to count.
“Yeah, but the difference now is that his little genie bitch is gone! And I happen to know something that none of you do.” He lowered his voice and narrowed his gaze. “He can’t get her back!” Cast strutted across the bar to the empty table that sat in the center of the floor. Plopping his ass down into the worn chair, he leaned back and stretched out his arms and legs. “Our blessed little king has run out of that convenient little fountain of luck!”
“What makes you so sure about that?” the odd faced vamp questioned as he hopped up onto a stool.
“I have my ways, and my sources. My guy on the inside tells me that she is no longer his to command.” He kicked his feet up onto the table. “We all know Tyrellis ain’t shit without Nitara! Hell, he’s a fucking baby compared to most of us. How else do you explain him being on top?”
The others nodded and grumbled; it was a common complaint. The oldest were always in power. That was how it had been since the very first vampires were made. Even before the order of the fae, vampires lived in a system of nests—each one reporting upward to a stronger nest which was made of older vampires until the very top. Age determined rule. When it came time, those who were of power had the option of fighting for the chance to lead. Barbaric perhaps, but it was their way.
“Is that why you stole her bike?” Mick, a frail vampire who held his arm around a human girl’s shoulder, asked. In Reverie, the human population had become property. Each were tagged with their owner’s code by a tattoo on their neck. Besides being fed on, they lived good and healthy lives because they said it made the blood taste better if the humans were fit and happy. There were even a few farms which operated like resorts. The human population was well cared for. In fact, some even said that it was one of the best places for a human to be in the new world order. “I thought you grew some balls. Guess the truth is just that you’re no longer scared shitless of her because you know she isn’t coming back!”
“I have never been afraid of that puppet!” Cast hissed at Mick who simply laughed in response. “That’s all she is, a damn toy for him to play with! You can’t be afraid of someone who has no control over their own actions!”
“Is that right?” Nitara appeared, cool strands of her signature purple smoke dancing around her and emphasizing her presence. “Don’t I spark just the tiniest bit of fear in your heart, Castius?” She called him by his full name, same as every time before, and he stiffened, just like always.
“Oh shit,” the short vampire muttered, backing as far away from Cast as he could.
“Oh shit is right.” She winked at the short man before returning her attention to the one who’d so openly boasted about her inability to act as she pleased. “Castius, please, tell me one thing …” She looked through the window to the sleek Harley that sat waiting. She hadn’t seen it since Daegal had snatched her from her miserable existence for one that was far less appetizing. “Why do you have my bike?”
“Well, there was no point in letting it just sit there, wasting away until you returned.” He laughed nervously. “Thought you would appreciate it being cared for.”
“Oh, that I do. And now, you will return her to me.” She held out her hand. “Keys.”
Cast dug the keys out of his jeans pocket—still intact with the pink skeleton head—and handed them over to her. “See, no harm no foul. I even had it cleaned today. We can just call this even, right?”
“Even? I don’t know, Castius. I doubt I would call returning property stolen from me even. You did steal from me, isn’t that right?” Peering over his shoulder at the group watching them, she knew without a doubt that she would need to make an example of the vampire.
“Borrow, I borrowed from you!” He laughed nervously. “Borrowed, cleaned, and returned!”
“Semantics. Still, in all, I can’t just let you get away with that, free and clear. What message would that give to the others?” She circled him, boots tapping loudly against the floor. She snapped her finger and the music stopped. The only sound was that of the nervous breaths of her target. “I mean, how does that sound? ’Feel free to steal from Nitara, she will just pat your back and let you off, as long as you return her belongings intact.’ I don’t know.” Pausing in front of him, she rubbed her chin in thought. “No, I don’t think that sounds good, do you?”
“I think it sounds fair.” His lips spread around perfect white teeth. “Makes you sound easy going.”
“Well, we’re going to have to agree to disagree in this instance. Easy going isn’t exactly the look that I’m going for.” Nitara waved her finger and the chair beneath Cast dissolved into nothing; his legs straightened until he was upright, standing in front of her, against his own will. “So, let’s discuss this puppet theory of yours. Tell me, how does it feel?”
“Look, I—” Cast began to plea, but his lips snapped tightly together. No matter how hard he tried to speak, he couldn’t.
“Don’t bother with begging, I’m not in the mood for it.” She waved her hand and streams of purple smoke reached toward the terrified vampire as they turned into solid strands that wrapped around him and restrained his movements. “You know what I am in the mood for? A puppet show!” She snapped her fingers and Castius began to dance to the music that piped through the speakers. Laughing, she conjured another shot of whiskey, and then knocked it back. The others groaned as they watched their leader be humiliated. Once satisfied with his performance, she snapped her fingers again and he fell to the floor. Nitara turned and strolled toward the exit, dragging the bound vampire behind her.
“What are you doing?” Mick spoke up, giving voice to the fear they all shared.
“Oh, don’t worry about our dear friend, Castius. We’re going to go for a little ride, considering how much our buddy enjoys my bike! Would any of you care to join us?” She twirled her fingers and strands of purple smoke danced between them. Mick shook his head and moved out of her way as she exited the bar with her prisoner in toe.
Once outside, Nitara admired the artwork that was her bike. Accented in purple, the beast stood under the moonlight in all its glory. She tied her haul on to the back of the bike and waved at the small crowd that formed around them. Straddling her baby for the first time in far too long, she grinned as it roared to life. The sound of her hog had become her calling card in Reverie. The vamps knew it and got th
e hell out of dodge whenever it sounded off. As she pulled away from the bar, she grinned. What better way could she announce her return? What better way to reinstate the fear of the king’s “puppet”? She drove through the center of Reverie where she knew she’d be seen.
Castius hung from the bike, floating behind her like a flag. This punishment was good, but not enough. She had to drive the point home. She continued following the road until the town and all of the onlookers were behind them. Out in the center of the large field that separated Reverie from the surrounding towns, Nitara found a place to plant her flag. The light from the moon washed the scene in a calming glow that contradicted the panicked energy that bled from the vampire.
Nitara looked up to the sky; soon the sun would return, and he would be without cover. “Don’t worry, you’ll only burn a bit before the ropes dissolve. I trust you’re full of blood and able to make it to hiding before it gets too bad.” She winked. “Oh, and, Castius, keep your hands off my bike!”
Cast choked on the dirt that was kicked up by the back tire of her bike as she drove away. Nitara didn’t want to be in vamp land, but hell, if she had to be there, she was going to have some fun!
“I see you've retrieved your bike.” Tyrellis sauntered into the calming atmosphere that was Nitara’s room. It wasn’t always that he kept her trapped inside of the cold cavity of his chest. He said he didn’t too much care for it, especially when she was in a ‘mood’. It gave him headaches. As a result of this slipped confession, Nitara was sure to take extra care in causing a ruckus whenever she was called to holed up inside of him.
On the outside, she had created her own getaway. A room that brought her peace of mind. Images of the sun and moon danced on opposite sides of the walls. Large paned windows were draped in sheer silk curtains that moved with the cool breeze coming through the opening. Nitara sat in front of the open window at the small writing desk. She looked up from her scribblings and released her usual sigh of contentment for the unexpected guest.
“Yes, I have.” As she spoke, the pen and paper she’d been using disappeared. “It was my right. I’m not even sure why Castius felt the need to pull such a stupid move to begin with.” Even if he thought she was away, why did he find it worth the risk? It was something that had been bothering her. It just didn’t add up. The topic had become one of a priority for her; there was more to the story and she needed to figure out what it was. She examined the bike thoroughly and nothing was out of place, not a single scratch.
“Isn’t it obvious? He was trying to prove a point. One that I think may have helped his cause against me.” The vampire paused in thought as he toyed with the satin sheets covering her queen-sized bed. He nodded in approval before continuing. “Never mind all that now, this turn of events will prove to work in our favor! Now the heathens know that you're back. Perhaps they'll settle back into their place.”
“Perhaps.” She smiled, but she knew that nothing would stop Cast and his minions, not even the knowledge of her return. They wanted Tyrellis out and that wasn’t going to change. The behavior of the leader didn’t help either. In all of his time, he’d learned nothing about what it meant to lead. Whenever anything wasn’t to his liking, he simply wished the problem away. What he couldn’t change, however, was the discourse that was growing within the people he was meant to lead. And it was spreading like wild fire … even more so since she’d been away. The wish-less ruler had no way to mask his incompetence.
“You don't think so?” He clapped his hands and the loud smack echoed off the ceiling. “I’ve heard of the display you made of dragging him through the town! Brilliant, simply brilliant. That will really make them think twice about crossing me again!”
She stood from her seat, crossed the large room, and got close up to the vampire who stiffened. It wasn’t often that Nitara neared him without his forcing the issue. “I think that with or without me on your side, there will be an uprising,” she whispered close to his ear before she passed by him and moved to the bedside table.
“Yes, but with you by my side, they’ll have no hopes in succeeding!” Tyrellis was just as sure of himself as she’d always known him to be. From the moment he took claim to the djinn, he was cocky and full of unearned confidence.
“If you believe so, then yes. Sure.” She chuckled to herself. Men had a ridiculous ability of being so full of themselves. It never ceased to amaze her. Tyrellis was no different.
“You think they could defeat you?” He chuckled—they both knew that no vampire, no matter the age, could stand against a djinn, especially Nitara. She was one of Daegal’s prized achievements. In his hopes to catch Jinn, he stumbled onto something much more satisfying. It was Nitara’s love for her husband that made her all that more powerful. She was the key to his greatest plot. To take over the world. Unfortunately, the same love he looked to exploit, was the thing that would become his greatest downfall.
“No, I don’t think that.” She paused, allowing him to have a moment of gloating before she squashed his hopes. “However, I'm not the only djinn left in existence, and Daegal’s little stunt made sure the entire world knows it now. What's to stop them from going to get another djinn to join them in their cause?”
“Why would any free djinn, seek to aid vampires? They can’t be possessed and therefore can’t be amended to help.” Tyrellis had thought of all possible angles. He was the only to possess a djinn, and to him it was an invaluable thing, one that guaranteed him an eternal life with his tight ass sitting perched on his golden throne on top of the world. You’d think that a vampire of all people would know that all things come to an end. Even immortals.
“Well, you're holding me captive, not that anyone knows it … yet. Once the word gets out, and it will, because the entire world now knows that I am alive, that may change things. Consider the fact that we djinn tend to stick together. After all, there are so few of us. Perhaps they’d help just to get payback.”
“We both know what happens to you if anything happens to me.” He grinned, happy for the fail-safe the warlock had put in place when bonding the djinn to him. It meant that no one could touch him, including the spicy Nitara. Daegal realized that she wouldn’t love her new living arrangements, so he made it that if Tyrellis’ life came to an end, so would hers.
“Yeah, you and I know the truth, but they don't.” She stopped in front of him as she planted the seed of doubt in his mind. “Is that something you want to have publicized? Get rid of you and I’m no longer a threat. What’s to stop them then from skipping right over the middle man?”
There it was, the piece that he hadn’t considered. His enemies could very well avoid Nitara altogether and make a play to take Tyrellis out. It would eliminate two threats in one blow. That was the kicker. When Daegal bound Nitara to Tyrellis, he became her vessel. A soulless vampire was the perfect host. Living for an eternity and unable to be possess by another.
“Leave me!” he yelled, frustrated with the turn of the conversation. “I need to think!”
“Whatever you say, boss.” Ignoring the fact that they were in her room, she vanished from the space leaving Tyrellis with his thoughts.
“Nitara, so good to see your face again!” the thick British accent of the dark-haired, green-eyed werewolf greeted her. As he pulled back the long silk strands of hair that hung around his face, he turned to the entrance of his hidden home and welcomed the only other person who’d ever been inside. Nitara was one of the few who would be able to pass through the barrier. The home had been spelled, and it took the signature magic that djinn produced to unlock it.
This was something the djinn came up with shortly after they began to be wished free. They needed a place to go without being bothered by the world. It wasn’t often that they were left alone. Passersby in the streets felt it more than acceptable to bombard them with questions and wishes that of course would go unfulfilled. The escape became necessary when one such person thought it okay to attack a djinn. This person didn’t live for much l
onger afterwards, but the djinn did decide that life in the open wasn’t one that would ever work out.
“Ardyn, good to see you’re still hanging around here!” Nitara hugged the only person she could call friend in the land of blood suckers. Ardyn was a conundrum to the mind, his British accent contrasted with his oriental heritage. Born to an Asian father and an African American mother, he was predominantly raised by a British woman when his mother passed away as a young boy. Nitara reminded him of the pictures his father kept of his mother, it was why he trusted her.
She was worried that he would have chosen to go elsewhere when she was forced to take her leave. The man had no other friends, no ties, or reasons to stick around the vampire-infested lands. Ardyn was the only person she’d come in contact with that didn’t partake in the consumption of human flesh. When she was brooding over her new sentencing chained to Tyrellis, she felt the magic of the hidden cavern where the unique man was holed up. He too had been in a somber mood thanks to Daegal’s interference in his life. The dark warlock had a knack of ruining the lives of others. It was a skill he’d honed.
“And, where else would I go?” The tall, slender man returned the warm embrace. His lanky yet muscled arms wrapped around her along with the musky smell of his other side. “Another ill-gotten experiment of our maker, Daegal, my dear, I’m here to stay!”
“Have you even attempted to go home yet?” Nitara had hoped that if nothing else, in her absence, her hybrid friend would have attempted to escape the world of solitude. No matter what he said, she knew he resented the new life that was forced onto him. It went against his very nature.
“Home? No.” He shrugged. “You and I both know that the wolves would never accept me. Not the way I am now.” Moving away from her, he crossed the room filled with modern amenities to the massive double door refrigerator. From within he grabbed two ice cold beers and tossed one to her. Cracking his open, he lifted it to her and took it to the head.
Djinn Rebellion Boxset (Books 1 -30: A Post-Apocalyptic Fantasy Page 21