Shadow Game, ch.1

1. A NEW YORK ENCOUNTER





Metropolitan Opera House,
New York…

The crowds that lined up to show their tickets to the clerks hummed with excitement, the always exquisite décor of the opera house giving poor and rich alike a sense of awe at the opulence and dualistic clash of ancient and modern.
Adjusting his cufflinks without so much as looking down at his wrists, Jett Rickard awaited the company of his date for the evening, eyes always on the move from his spot on the cantilevered staircase.
A sharply tailored pinstripe black suit adorned him, the tie matching the suit over the crisply laundered white shirt beneath. The cufflinks were shaped like teardrops, a gift from his superior.
Neatly trimmed black hair crowned a handsome, if not somewhat rugged face, although he still had some vestige of youthful appeal. Most women seemed to be drawn to his ice blue eyes, which were almost always twinkling with wry, warm humour.
The constant, alert scanning of the crowd was not one of curiosity, but caution, his training as an agent ensuring he was almost never caught off guard by an enemy who was what they seemed not to be.
His eyes were drawn to a woman about to make her way up the staircase. Her classical, hourglass figure was wrapped in fine red silk, windows cut into the dress that hugged her curvaceous body. The black hair atop her head was braided, artfully so, drawing all eyes to her timeless beauty.
As she passed, Jett stepped aside to allow her to do so, and for a moment locked eyes with her. While she was calm in posture and pace, a somewhat feline smile on her pouty lips, Jett saw a twinkle of mania within those eyes, and fought a shiver.
“Merci.” She muttered, the Parisian purr polite and playful, her hips swaying a little as she made her way past him up to the boxes.
“You’re welcome.” Jett replied, watching her go in quiet contemplation. Heiress, or socialite. Either way, she didn’t buy that dress herself.
Turning back to the doors, he saw, just beyond them, his companion. Stepping out of a town car, the first he saw of her was one long, slender leg, a classic Louboutin on the end of it and a slinky garter on her upper thigh.
The leg was swiftly joined by the other, before he saw her blonde hair as she ducked her head to climb out of the car. His eyes roamed her as she closed the door.
Svelte, tall, a little pale, the black dress she had opted for tightly clung to her body. A long slit raced up the side, exposing what seemed like an acre of skin, the back of the dress cut down to her lower back.
Then she turned.
God bless British Intelligence, he mused.
Dark blonde hair, short but carefully tied back, would have framed her regal features, the thin lips painted almost perfectly in a subtle red. Her green eyes were alight with calm, confident grace, their emotion matched in her slow, sensual sway as she entered the opera house.
A small clutch completed the picture of beauty, her delicate hands holding it at her waist. Jett signalled her with a small wave, gesturing her to join him.
“Don’t you scrub up well?” The slight mocking in her tone made him wince slightly, made even worse by her English accent, but it was amid a playful challenge.
“Not as well as you, Miss Trueman. We have seats in the upper box this evening. Shall we?”
“In a moment. I need to use the little girls room.”
“I’ll wait here.” He nodded.
Making her way down the stairs, she disappeared into the crowd of operatic patrons. Taking one last slow look over the sea of people, he caught sight of an old acquaintance from Langley, nodding in respect to the senior agent.
The man nodded back, his weathered black face in a weary grin as he guided his date – a rather stern woman whose purple dress clashed with her lipstick – through the lower doors.
Soon enough, Trueman was back, wrapping her slim arm around his. Walking up the stairs with him, he could smell her darkly spiced perfume, the smell quite aromatic.
“Did you choose this assignment, or am I blessed with your company by the machinations of our dear chief?” His own English tones matched hers.
“I chose it. It’s not often I get to join a legend in the field.” She smiled.
“Hardly a legend. Just a man doing his job, in the end. I’m not on duty tonight, either. But thank you for the compliment.”
“Nonsense. You’re the man who stopped the Malan trafficking ring in Shanghai. That stumped their government for weeks.” She shook her head, Jett pulling the door to the box open.
Accepting his chivalry with a small nod, she swept past him, taking her seat. Closing the door behind them, Jett took his own, opening his jacket to ease sitting down.
“Have you watched Turandot before?” He met her gaze, genuinely curious.
“No. I’ve heard about it, and decided that it was time to inject a little culture in my life. Do you visit the opera often?”
“Only on assignment, usually. I had to visit the Semperoper in Dresden, but that was to gain intel on a ring of rich socialites.”
“Why? Smugglers?” Her left leg crossed over her right, revealing just how long her legs were, but his eyes never left her face.
“No. They were paying homeless people to take part in twisted combat sports, betting on the win and dumping the bodies of the dead ones in the river.”
“That’s horrific. But why were you involved? I thought murders were the jurisdiction of the home nation. Why would they call in British Intelligence to solve a German murder?”
“Because one of the bodies was an undercover member of MI5. They didn’t find out until later, and when the Bundeskriminalamt caught wind of it, the Chief sent me when his opposite informed him.”
“Rich people. They think they can do what they want and money solves everything.”
“And yet, some wealthy people just want to do some good.” He countered, just as the lights above them dimmed.
Trueman turned in her seat, a slight scowl on her face as she focused on the stage. Placing his own attention below them, he watched as the dark and dramatic notes of Popolo di Pekino rang out.
Glancing towards Trueman as the opera played out, he saw her become slowly engrossed in the talented rendition of the thespians below, and a small smile crossed his face.
They were good at their job, as he was good at his, telling their story of mystery, suspense and intrigue with aplomb. The crowd was quiet, many just as captivated by the performance.
All too soon, the lights came up, signalling the interval. Trueman looked up. “Is it over already?”
“No. There are two intervals. Would you like a glass of champagne?” He chuckled.
“Yes, please.” A meek smile lit up her face, her pale cheeks slightly flushed.
Leaving the box, Jett made his way down to the foyer level, locating the refreshment bar in due haste. Collecting two glasses of champagne, the man behind the bar smiled.
“Is sir enjoying the performance?”
“It’s quite spellbinding, yes. My companion is very much enamored with it.”
“Perhaps a pair of the binoculars, sir? It enables you to see more than most do.” The man kept smiling, but Jett heard the note of meaningful insistence in his tone.
“I’ll do that.” Jett nodded, making his way to the South concourse. Waiting his turn, he paid for the binoculars, making his way up to the box.
Handing Trueman her glass, getting a nod of sincere appreciation in return, he sat. The lights dimmed again, and Jett lifted the binoculars to his eyes.
A small click sounded, and a small earpiece fell out of the binoculars. Slipping it into his ear with a slight frown, he returned to looking through the binoculars.
“Good evening, Agent Rickard. I apologize for interrupting your night off, but information has come to light in the last half hour that we believe will help solve our biggest case.”
Jett frowned more deeply.
How? We don’t have any leads on the head of the table… He pondered, listening as the voice of the chief continued to talk.
“We believe a high placed associate of our prime target has recently arrived in New York, and we may have a short window to take a significant piece off the board, so to speak.”
“Is everything okay?” He heard Trueman ask, her voice soft and quiet. Glancing her way, he saw she still had her attention on the stage, but was paying close attention to him.
“Yes. Just a word from the head office. I’ll tell you shortly.” He muttered back.
As he placed the binoculars back to his eyes, he saw a photograph before him. It was of a woman in a pantsuit shaking hands with a man, the very memorable fountain of Central Park just behind them.
“The associate in question goes by the name of Gemini Gemille, a known and wanted terrorist in her home nation. As such, she is believed to reside in Syria, to avoid possible extradition. We want you to track her down and secure her for extradition while she is in New York. Good luck, Agent Rickard. Miss Gemille is dangerous, and has killed sixteen British Intelligence operatives on record. She won’t go quietly.”
As the recording finished, a clearer photo of the woman in question flashed up, and Jett raised his eyebrows.
I’ve seen that woman…
Putting the binoculars down, he took the ear piece out and leaned over to whisper to Trueman, keeping his eyes on the stage to make it appear as if he was flirting, Trueman putting on a wide smile as if listening.
“You know the case the service is building in Paris, right? The multiple level one that I’ve been working on for three years?”
“Yes. The head office believes that all of the crime syndicates in the world work for one man, although many of the other companies don’t. You do?”
“I’m not saying I do. But I work the case in front of me, and I just got told that we have a chance to help our cause quite a bit.”
“How so?”
“Do you know a woman named Gemini Gemille at all Trueman? French, from what they said.”
“Gemini Gemille, AKA Black Mamba. Known to be responsible for eighty seven deaths, including over a dozen MI5 agents. She’s known to also be rather crazy and… weird…”
“Weird how?” Jett encouraged.
“She’s known to be a masochist. We heard a few reports that she enjoys pain, whether giving or receiving… She is known to torture people, which isn’t a surprise.”
“Hmm… I know I’ve seen that face before. But where…” He fell silent, having seen those eyes not an hour beforehand as the woman in red passed him on the stairs.
“What?” Trueman asked, not turning round.
“The woman in the red dress. She walked past me on the stairs. I thought she was a heiress or a rich girl. I’m sure it’s her.”
“She’s here? Where?”
“I don’t know… I need to wait for the lights to come back up, and look around. I can’t risk any innocent people getting caught in the crossfire if it is her.”
“You have to be sure, Rickard. I know her face from the surveillance. If it is her, what do you want to do?”
“Head office wants her alive. So, I need you to cover the back entrance to this place, and ensure that if she eludes me, she gets stopped.”
“Done.” She nodded, Jett leaning back in his chair again. The air between them was now fraught with uneasy tension, Jett trying to keep his mind focused on the opera, aware with every passing second the woman in the red dress might be further away.
The lights for the second interval came up, and Trueman immediately turned in her seat. “Okay, do you see her? You said she came upstairs, so start with the boxes, work your way down.”
With a resigned nod, Jett began to study each of the high boxes, dismissing every man, focusing entirely on the women. Some were empty, others solely men, making his job a little easier.
“There. Second row down, third from the end, in the red. She’s with a man.”
Trueman subtly looked over, and nodded, her voice softly troubled. “That’s her alright. I vaguely recognize the man too. But he’s not a criminal, just a rich idiot. I think she’s just here to bargain with him.”
“Okay. I didn’t bring any weapons in. I wasn’t planning on needing one, but if she’s as lethal as they claim, I will.”
“Advantages of a dress like this…” Trueman gave him a cheeky smile. “It protects a lady’s modesty, and also hides things well, because no one wants to be called a pervert.”
Lifting the fabric of her dress aside, he saw the garter once more, but realised a compact Ruger 9-Max was holstered to her thigh by it.
“Here. Six shots, that’s all you get. So if you have to shoot her, don’t miss.”
“Thanks, Trueman. Hopefully I won’t need to shoot her.”
“Call me Trixie.” She grinned.
Jett paused.
“Trixie Trueman? Your parents wanted you to be miserable, didn’t they?” He quipped, though it was light spirited.
“Says the man who got named Jett Rickard.” She shot back.
Chuckling, Jett slipped from the box, making his way down and round to the second box he had seen the woman in red in.
As he went, the man she had been speaking to passed him, giving him a warm smile and a nod as Jett stepped aside to let him pass. Watching him go for a minute, Jett studied him, wondering who would knowingly talk to a woman like Gemille.
Rich idiot. She’d snap his neck like a twig, and smile while he died.
Reaching the box, he entered as quietly as he could, and pointed the pistol at the back of her head, the tip of the barrel pressed to the skin.
“Can I at least finish my wine, please?” Gemille asked, sounding thoroughly bored. “They do such a lovely red.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to be rude.” Jett replied, moving to sit beside her, but keeping the gun in direct sight to her heart.
“A Ruger? You fire that, everyone in here will hear it, and you wouldn’t make it out. Not that I don’t like people screaming.”
“That’s why you’re coming with me, quietly, and without fuss. Because if I have to kill you, you will be screaming the whole way down.”
“Promises, promises. Judging by that silver spoon in your mouth, you’re either a very foolish assassin, or British Intelligence. Although, being the latter would make you a fool by default.”
“A fool who managed to get the drop on you, Miss Gemille.”
Sipping her wine, Gemille didn’t drop the smile on her face. The lights dimmed and as the chords of the third began, sptting the wine directly into his face.
Brushing at his eyes, he realized she had taken the opportunity to flee, instead of attacking him as he had expected. Giving chase he heard her heels as they clattered down the staircase.
Slipping the gun into his inside jacket pocket, Jett followed the sound, out into the cold air of the New York night.
Looking left, then right, he saw nothing, then saw the flash of her red dress passing through the Amsterdam Avenue traffic.
Sprinting to keep up, he saw her toss her heels at an approaching car, causing it and every car behind it to swerve erratically. Cursing, Jett slid across the hood of the first one, narrowly avoiding the others.
Pursuing her down West 64th Street, he began to wonder where she was running to, debating which landmark was closest. Instead, she led him into Riverside Park, which made Jett pause for a moment.
Perfect place for an ambush. She’s crazy, but she’s smart. There’s nowhere to hide here, though, so why is she here?
Following her more sedately, but keeping her in sight, he tracked her through the park and up onto the plaza, where she stopped on the edge of the Hudson.
“There’s nowhere to go, Gemille. Come with me, quietly.” He leveled the Ruger at her head.
“I think not, spy. I’d rather die.” Gemille spat at him, letting herself fall back into the river below, causing Jett to run forward.
Watching the water for a few minutes, he saw no trace of her surfacing, either willingly, or in the buoyancy of death.
“Dammit.” He muttered, turning away from the river. Making his way back to the hotel, he took a burner phone from the safe and called the Chief, gazing out at New York.
“I hope you have good news. Gemille in your custody, I should think.”
“No sir. She – ” He began, but as he spoke, the door to the suite opened, and he quietly moved behind the bedroom door, pointing the gun at the edge.
A shadow passed behind it, and as he readied to squeeze the trigger, he saw a lock of blonde and relaxed, Trueman leaning round it.
“Were you going to shoot me?”
“I thought you were Gemille.”
“Speaking of, where is she? Dead?”
Putting the phone on speaker, he continued in a morose voice, handing the gun back to Trueman as he began to undo his tie.
“I gave chase from the opera house, all the way to the plaza at 66th. She dove into the Hudson, and didn’t come back up. I waited for at least ten minutes, sir. She either held her breath for that long, or she died.”
“Well, we will suggest that our American friends drag the river tomorrow morning. If she’s there, she will be found. Get some rest, you debrief and head to JFK first thing.”
“Yes sir. Goodnight.”
Hanging up, he tossed his tie aside.
“You think she drowned?” Trixie slipped her heels off, crossing to the bedroom and speaking from behind the door. He could hear the rustle of fabric, and realized she was changing.
“No one can hold their breath for that long, not in water that cold. The Hudson in the late evening is freezing. So she either drowned or she caught hypothermia and froze to death.”
“So she’s dead. One less worry for us. Who was the man?”
“I don’t know. I’ve seen him before, I think. I can find out in the morning when I debrief on the way to the airport. I – ”
Whatever he was going to say next completely evaporated on his tongue as Trueman stepped out of the bathroom in a robe. As far as he could make out, there was nothing beneath it.
“You what?”
“I have no idea… and I don’t care.” Taking a grip of the tie of the robe, Jett pulled her into his arms. Kissing her with ferocity and passion, then fell onto the bed, soon lost in one another.

What the Darker Worlds are

I was asked recently by a fan how connected my books are. The truth is, all of them are connected by the core principle of inclusivity and being true to life.

Racism, misogyny, abuse and rape, and sexual identity and gender equality – these are all subjects that are big issues today but are not things people like to talk about.

The Darker Worlds started off as the relatively simple Family Chronicles, but along the way became a way to shed light on, demystify and encourage discussion on these topics.

Below, are the connected worlds and franchises, as well as the upcoming worlds.

THE DARKER WORLDS

UPCOMING WORKS

Untitled #1

So, Bad Moon Rising is now 1/20th of the way done, and I can’t wait to share this with all of you.

Blood and Silver was a milestone in my writing career, and this will top it in many ways.

I’d love to give you hints about what awaits the vampires you’ve come to know and love, but that would be an injustice and a spoiler, and I know all of you are chomping at the bit to find out.

The release date is set, although that won’t be announced for a while yet. What I will say is, prepare to be shocked to the core by what you will see, as the Great War doesn’t discriminate. War never does.

See you Darkworlders soon….

Bad Moon Rising, opening chapter.

Despite all the bustle inside the building, it was almost silent out in the street, only the sound of the wind whistling down the road audible. No humans dared to enter the area, and all of the look outs had retreated indoors to comply with preparations.

Which is why no one saw the sole figure appear on the street. If they had, they would likely have opened fire upon her. It would have done very little damage, but the manner of her appearance would have rendered them wracked with fear.

First, a dark liquid had oozed from between the cracks in the tiles, pooling together into a viscous lake on the corner right outside Solaria. The liquid then coalesced into the shape of the woman, leaving her stood glaring up at the top window imperiously. Her hair was as black as onyx, flowing past her shoulders, her narrowed eyes as red as blood. Her clothing appeared to be black leather, but was just a construct of her true form.

Then, in a voice that was as cold as the chill that froze the mammoths and as dead as the inhabitants of a morgue, she began to speak. She didn’t raise her voice, but all activity in the building stopped immediately.

“Inhabitants of Solaria. My name, is Sorrel Ravenswood, and in case you have forgotten, every last one of you answers to the same law as the other vampires on this planet. Aurora Ravellino is not the law, and neither are any of the other residents of this building. The Trium is the Law. By familial association, Aurora Ravellino is guilty of murder, treason, blasphemy and countless other crimes, and therefore I am here to carry out her sentence – death. Any of you that impede me in completing my duty will be treated as an accessory to her guilt and therefore receive the same sentence. You are warned. And as for you, Aurora Ravellino… time is up.”

Then, without any further words, she marched up the front steps of the building and kicked the door off of its hinges. She was set upon almost immediately, the vampires wielding knives and firearms.

Sorrel mowed them down, her blows crushing bone and obliterating flesh as she continued her relentless movement forward. One man managed to sink a blade deep into her chest – Sorrel snapped his arm like a twig then head-butted him hard enough to disintegrate his skull.

Two more came for her, swords raised. She stopped the blades dead in mid-air, seized both of them by the skull and clapped their heads together with a sickening crunch, both heads smashing like eggs. She was moving forward once again before they had even hit the floor. A third received a knife through the throat – the knife that had been embedded in her chest.

Sorrel reached the first floor, only to be subjected to a withering hail of bullets that sent her tumbling down the stairs. Reverting to her base form, she re-coalesced at the top of the stairs, right behind two vampires who were cautiously peering down them in search of her. She kicked one hard enough in the spine that he was bent double before plummeting down it.

Before the second one could react, Sorrel took him by the head and forced it down, straight onto one of the wooden beams of the railing nearby. The other vampires opened fire again, but Sorrel was far, far, quicker, darting through the room at speeds fast enough to almost cause sonic booms.

The first had his heart torn out, the second received the heart in the face hard enough to rupture their skull, sending her and the woman behind her through the wall out into the street. A fourth was punched in the jaw, sending him spinning like a top into two of his allies.

Sorrel stepped on their heads as she passed, reducing them to paste on her way to the last man, who had her shoulder slammed into him hard enough to concave his ribs, killing him stone dead before he hit the floor.

Resuming her slow walk, she paused at the bottom of the stairs, listening intently to the noise from upstairs. She was able to pinpoint the sound of at least a hundred vampires in a room directly above her head.

Taking a deep breath, she sent winding tendrils of blood up onto the ceiling, wrapping them slowly and silently around the people upstairs. Then, with a sharp telepathic yank, she hanged all of them, the tendrils as sharp as razors.

As she walked up the stairs, she let her own weapons flow from her hands – two pitch black blades as long as katanas that were able to split marble and steel.

Room by room, she butchered her enemies, absorbing gunfire and knife wounds without ever stepping backwards. As she passed the room with the hanging vampires, she clicked her fingers and decapitated them all, their bodies hitting the floor with a series of thuds.

Finally, she made it to the top floor, covered in blood stains that she paused to absorb into herself. Pushing open the door, she came face to face with the last twelve people in the building, including Ravellino herself.

“You have a choice. Stay your weapons, let me execute the condemned and survive, or I will be forced to kill all of you. Make your choice.”

As the vampires looked at one another, Sorrel took brief note of who remained. One was what they deemed an Elder, two were Headsmen – executioners like herself – and the others were mere children.

“What are you waiting for? Kill her!” Ravellino ordered.

The eleven others surged forward, the fledglings running, the other three more measured in their approach.

Sorrel stayed where she was.

Creating a pair of blades, she parried the blows with almost bored ease, destroying their weapons and leaving them momentarily shocked.

Then came her retaliation.

Decapitating the first, she continued the swing and took off two more heads. The fourth ducked a shade too slowly, the blow taking off his head above the nose, his brain and skull flying across the room from how hard she had swung the blade.

The fifth and sixth rained blows down upon her, which had about as much effect as bee stings. Sorrel absorbed her blades, content to fight unarmed if they wished.

As one threw a punch, she met their fist with her own, turning the bones to dust, and fracturing the bones all the way up. They staggered backwards, and Sorrel turned her attention to the other.

Reverting to liquid form, she instantly reformed right behind and struck the girl in the back of the skull with the palm of her hand, the kinetic power decimating bone and sending her flying into the wall.

The man with the broken hand had drawn a gun by this time, and shot Sorrel in the head. The boom resounded in the silence, smoke strong in the air, and Sorrel turned to face him, glaring mutinously at him.

He was gazing at the gun, apparently wondering why it had failed to kill her. Sorrel grabbed his wrist and yanked it up, the quick motion causing his finger to flex at the exact moment it was under his chin – the gun fired and took his head off in a spray of blood and viscera.

As she turned to face the others, she heard footsteps and saw the last two fledglings running as fast as their legs would carry them. Sorrel let them go – if they were smart enough to run, they were not impeding her and therefore posed no threat.

That left three guarding her target. All three were armed with silver swords, as if it would make any difference to their chances. Ravellino, meanwhile, had backed up as far as possible.

Sorrel took a step forward, and so did her three opponents. Another step, and the three levelled their swords at her. Sorrel sighed, then formed her own blades and darted forward.

The silver swords parried the blows, a feat in itself, and the three vampires swung them as hard and as fast as they could, forcing her to take her first backwards steps as she parried the blades.

As she caught the three between both of her own, she took the momentary opportunity to spit blood into their eyes, blinding all three.

The first had his lower legs cut off, Sorrel slicing him in half at the torso then the neck before he hit the floor in bloody pieces. The second she decapitated in a single swing before turning her attention to the last, who was wiping at her eyes in desperation.

Quickly taking a better footing, Sorrel vertically swung the sword, bisecting the last from groin upwards, cutting them in half completely, leaving Sorrel staring at Ravellino, who looked around the room at her fallen associates and did the only thing she could.

She tried to run.

Sorrel stepped in her way, grabbing her by the throat and lifting her off of the floor.

“Aurora Ravellino… how do you plead?”

“Please let me go.”

“No.”

Seconds later, Ravellino was screaming.

An hour later, the building was silent as Sorrel stepped into the frigid night air. Closing her eyes, she linked to the Trium.

Masters… the task is done…

Good. Return to us.

Sorrel broke the link and let her form turn to liquid, sinking back into the tiles and vanishing.

Blood and Silver chapter 1

Western Europe, 403 A.D.

The storm unleashed upon the countryside sounded as if Zeus himself was furious with humanity.

Rain lashed the countryside, a strong breeze bending the trees as periodic rumbles of thunder echoed through the valleys and forests. In the distance, iridescent flashes of lightning lit up the onyx night, each one getting closer than the last.

It had been this way for almost three days now, and many of the local peasant folk were beginning to murmur about witchcraft or angry gods.

They were beginning to get restless and angry, but the emperor had ordered his legionnaires to exact a swift justice on rebels, and the lands were quiet.

For now.

Marching through the trees, an entire legion of the Roman military paid no heed to the weather above. Their eyes were dead ahead, spears at the ready, intent on the completion of their task – a task given by the emperor himself.

The legion commander – a stout, burly man who had served the legion for nearly fifteen years by the name of Lanius – kept his eyes on the mountain in the near distance. He would never admit it, but he was proud of the men who had chosen to come with him on this mission.

They knew nothing of what awaited at the destination on the horizon, and had no clue that they were most likely marching to their deaths – they were under the impression they were simply on a route march – but had begun the march into the wilderness nevertheless.

He himself had only known of their true purpose for a few days when he had been commanded into the private chambers of the emperor. There was no fanfare and no ceremony, just a respectful and calm conversation.

The emperor had introduced Lanius to a Seer.

They had told of a power that would grow to threaten the great empire, a dark power that would devour everything it touched, withering the lands and turning the rivers to blood.

They had to be stopped before they became a threat to the empire, which was why he was at the head of the legion, marching towards where the Seer had predicted the power’s lair to be.

Lanius pulled his troops to a halt at the base of a mountain, just as the rain began to get heavier and the wind became stronger. He turned to face them, raising his voice to be heard over the roaring wind.

“From here, we will need to be a great deal quieter. You men,” he pointed to the soldiers at the front, “You will come with me. Everyone else, wait out here. If anything that isn’t a Centurion comes through the area, kill them. Understood?”

Each Centurion not chosen to join him pounded their chest once with their fist then raised it in his direction, a gesture of respect and acknowledgment towards their commander.

Turning, Lanius stripped off his breastplate along with his helmet, then began to scale the mountain. It was a long climb, made worse by the rain as it poured down the rocks.

After an hour of climbing, they came to a ledge at the mouth of a small cave. Without hesitation, he led his men into the cramped, dark tunnel, following a flickering orange light at the end of it.

The crawl was nightmarish, the stone edges of the tunnel sharp and claustrophobically tight. Sounds from within the caverns echoed through the tunnel and almost deafened him as they bounced around and grew in volume. It was torture.

When he finally managed to squeeze his way out at the other end of the tunnel, he found himself having to duck for cover.

They were everywhere.

Men and women, even children. All of them dressed in pure white robes, intoning a strange chant as they knelt and prayed. As more of his soldiers joined him, he was forced to snap the necks of two insurgents nearby to gain more space for them.

Waiting for the last of his men to join the group, Lanius crawled forward at a snail’s pace to take a closer look. The worshippers were arranged in a semicircle, a figure at the front leading the prayers.

It took a moment, as they were chanting in the Egyptian tongue, but after they repeated themselves several times he figured out what they were saying:

 

Wake, dark mother.

Rise and take what is yours, lead us to a new future paved in the bones and the blood of all who would oppose and oppress us.

 

It was eerie, but it gave him hope. Whoever – whatever – they were praying to wasn’t there yet and that meant their job was much easier. Slowly, he inched his way back to his men.

“There aren’t that many here, but there are women  and children.” He told them in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Do we kill them?” a particularly young soldier asked, only to get a strike at the back of his head from the legion’s second in command – a rare female soldier named Quintessa that Lanius had handpicked with the complete blessing of the emperor.

“Of course we kill them. The emperor insisted that there be no survivors. There can be no one to tell the tale and prolong the worship of this false leader.”

His men nodded, though none of them looked the least bit happy to be killing children. As one, they drew their swords and spread out through the cave.

Blood spurted everywhere as the Centurions slit the throats of the worshippers as they made their way forward. Unfortunately, one of the patrolling watchers saw them and raised the alarm.

Soon, shouts of warning were echoing through the caves, turning the stealth approach into a desperate fight for survival.

The sounds of swords clashing rang in the air, legion broadswords meeting scimitars amid the squelch of sliced flesh and agonized screams of the dying.

It was a short and blood-soaked skirmish, brought to an end as his sword and the sword of his second were impaled in the throat and heart of the last of the worshippers.

“Good job. We need to gather all of them, and burn all of their bodies. Just in case. Now – ”

He fell silent, as a suffocating, dense hush that made Lanius feel like something was dreadfully wrong settled over the cave. His skin crawled, and he had the sudden sensation that there was something with them in the caves.

“Sir, I think we should get out of here. I think there is something in here.” Quintessa said, sounding as scared as he felt.

 The words had barely left her mouth when all of the torches in the room were snuffed out by a sudden gust of icy wind that blew through the cave, plunging it into an oppressive and unnerving darkness.

“No one panic. It’s just the wind from outside. If you are near a wall, find a torch and light it. There is nothing to fear here.”

It was at that moment that a laugh echoed in the darkness. It was malicious, a little amused and utterly bloodthirsty, bouncing off the walls to a volume that made Lanius cover his ears.

It was the laugh of a predator that had cornered its prey and was enjoying the moment before it pounced for the kill.

Suddenly it stopped. Then there was a few seconds of quiet before a voice spoke and made his skin erupt in terrified goosebumps.

“I smell blood in the air. And fear. It is so very delicious. I was going to feast on those ignorant peasants, but you slaughtered them like lambs before I had the chance. I guess I will have to settle for Roman blood.”

Before Lanius could ponder the meaning of her words, there was a sound that was reminiscent of rustling bat wings. Then the screaming began.

All around him, Lanius could hear his people being butchered, their screams suddenly being cut off as they resounded loudly in the darkness. He could hear their bodies hitting the ground with heavy thumps.

Scrambling for the walls, he searched in vain for a torch on the wall with one hand while fumbling for the flint in his tunic with the other. Yanking the torch free, he sparked the flint against the wall until it caught and the flame burst into life.

Able to see the cave again, he turned round and saw two things that made his heart sink.

First, he saw the corpses of most of his legion on the floor, blood pooling out from gruesome wounds in their necks. Some of them were completely unrecognizable.

The second thing was Quintessa, who was still standing. Behind her, however, was a second woman who was gazing at him with a psychotic grin.

Razor sharp fangs that dripped with blood were visible in her crimson stained mouth. She had his second in a firm grip, one arm around her waist and the other hand wrenching her neck to the side.

“Let her go. Take me instead.” Lanius told her, keeping his voice low and steady despite his nerves.

The creature cocked its head to the side, perhaps a little confused, then sank its fangs into the bared neck. Quintessa cried out in pain, and Lanius surged forward, sword raised.

The creature dropped her and screamed at him, a horrifying and tortured sound. Lanius didn’t back away, swinging for the head. He missed.

His strike would have severed the monster’s head had it connected, but it was suddenly as if she wasn’t there anymore. Looking around, he was startled to see her right behind him. He immediately lashed out with the torch, but she batted it out of his hand.

It rolled along the floor, but thankfully stayed alight as it came to a stop a few feet away. He looked around for the monster and saw her slinking into the shadows, out of the flickering light.

Lanius knew he was no match for the monster, and glanced around for another way out of the caves that wasn’t the tunnel.

It was the torch that told him. It was blowing in a breeze from the other end of the caves, but it was the same direction that the monster was stood. Picking up the torch, he steeled himself for the attempt – which was when she came hurtling out of the dark.

He stepped aside and swung the sword. There was a scream of pain, but Lanius was already running full speed towards the end of the cave.

He found a tunnel and followed it, the breeze growing stronger as he sprinted. He could hear the bat wing sound behind him and knew she was right on his trail.

Bursting out into the night air, he took a brief second to take his bearings, then resumed his dash down the mountain. The monster came out of the tunnel a few seconds later, spotted him and gave chase.

Lanius made it into the forest without being caught, but she was right behind him. He dodged in and out of the trees, but her superior speed meant he was always in her view. Entering the clearing he knew his men were in, he paused, readying his sword.

“Come on. Come and get me.” He called. She came into the clearing, frowning in curiosity. It was a suspicion confirmed a moment later when a spear slammed into her chest.

Another one struck, then another, all of them on target. Several legionnaires came out of the forest and attempted to attack her, only to be brutally murdered. Others came out and used the spears to hold her in place as more of them chopped her arms off. Lanius walked over, stopping a few feet away from her as she knelt, pinned by the spears.

“Who are you?”

“I am the shadow that haunts you. I am the last beat of your heart before you die. I am why you fear the dark. I am – ”

“Enough.” Lanius snapped, swinging his sword with all of his might and decapitating her. Her head tumbled away, a look of surprise still on her beautiful face as it rolled to a stop.

“Are you okay sir? Where are Quintessa and the others?” one asked.

“All dead.” He frowned, feeling a deep grief over the loss of his men and his partner.

“What of her?” another inquired, nudging the body of the woman with a foot.

Lanius was quiet for a moment. The woman was clearly not human, the entire incident had proven that beyond a doubt. Had she killed them all, the Seer’s prophecy would have undoubtedly come true.

“Chop her up. Have emissaries take the parts as far around the world as they can and bury them as deep as they can. This… thing, will never see the light of day again.” The legionnaires nodded and began to butcher the monster’s corpse.

Lanius turned away and walked into the forest. He walked blindly until he came to a secluded river, where he dropped to his knees and began to weep.

Submission and Reason

When Danica arrived at the flat, she closed the door with a gentle click and turned to see what, at first glance, was an empty apartment. But then she heard the sharp flow of the shower, and a wry but happy smile crossed her face.
Untying her dark blonde hair, she licked her red, pouty lips and took off her glasses, her cerulean eyes lighting up with pure joy.
Heading for the bedroom, her clothes fell away from her tall, willowy frame as she left a trail of them all the way to the bedroom.
Once there, she immediately assumed the well ingrained position that she always took when in the presence of Priscilla – knelt by the bed, hands clasped together behind her back, her head bowed in supplication.
The shower stopped, the rush of white noise caused by the falling water fading away, and her nipples hardened against the ocean blue silk, the anticipation making her breath ragged.
The bathroom door swung open, a fog of steam pouring out, before soft footsteps made their way around the edge of the king-sized bed.
A soft rustle of lace sounded, and then the tall, slender frame of Priscilla sat on the edge of the bed right beside her.
The moment the long, slender legs of Priscilla entered her field of vision, a tremor of utter want rattled her spine, a soft sigh of delight escaping her lips as she awaited her first command of the night.
“Dani…”
It was one word but Danica immediately knelt a bit straighter, her voice a breathy whisper as she replied, “Yes, mistress?”
“How was your day?”
“It was boring, mistress. Not being by your side made the hours drag quite a great deal.”
A single finger slid under Danica’s chin to make her look up. She saw Priscilla grinning wide in a Cheshire Cat grin, before she leaned down and kissed Danica.
Priscilla was breathtaking, her blonde hair in a neat bun, her lips thin and deep crimson, emerald green eyes gazing at her.
It was slow, sweet and tender, the pressure of Priscilla’s soft, pliant lips making her want to tug on them and taste them. Letting herself be kissed, she kept her eyes closed tight.
“Stand up…” Priscilla gently ordered, leaning back from the kiss. The sudden break of contact made Danica moan softly, leaning towards her to make it last as long as possible.
Nevertheless, she stood up, her head once more bowed, her hands still behind her back, fingers in a neat mesh.
Slowly and carefully, Priscilla guided her onto the bed, laying her face down with her head on the fluffy pillows, legs firmly together.
Danica felt Priscilla firmly pin her arms flat by her sides, then disappeared from her view, before she felt the bed dip either side of her feet.
The small dips in the bed made their way up, either side of her legs, at a torturously slow pace, before Danica felt it.
Priscilla’s slender fingers brushed across her cool flesh, so soft and fleeting that Danica wasn’t sure Priscilla was actually touching her. But the sensations of skin-to-skin contact kept resonating through her, maddeningly soft and making her whole body ache with frustration.
First, they travelled up her calves, then the back of her knees, the sensitive flesh at the back of her thighs… it was torture of the best kind, a fine but visible layer of goosebumps sheeting across her skin before a mewling whimper of utter need and pleading burst from her lips.
“Hush, Dani…” Priscilla chuckled quietly, the sound a rich, throaty purr, before Danica felt her full lips lay a kiss on the small of her back, right above the waistband of her panties.
Danica quivered, but didn’t make a sound, her obedience gaining her a hushed, “Good girl…”
Those full, pouty lips then carved a trail up her spine, each kiss lasting only a second, as light as a feather, but sending a pulse of liquid pleasure to Danica’s rapidly heating core.
She squirmed, but still no sound issued from her lips, her trained body submitting fully to the whims of whatever Priscilla’s wicked mind had conjured for her.
The sanity threatening kisses came to an end in the small hollow behind her right ear, a spot that Priscilla knew would elicit a reaction.
As she probably intended, Danica let out an involuntary, raw moan of pleasure, the sound deep and dripping with hunger.
“Are you okay, Dani?” Priscilla quietly asked, her voice concerned.
Danica swiftly nodded, looking back at her love, her mistress, with a beautiful smile. Priscilla kissed her on the cheek, then those slim fingers slowly brushed Danica’s hair back to gain access to her throat.
Her lips brushed the soft, pale flesh, causing her to gulp audibly in barely disguised anticipation, a moment before Priscilla opened her mouth and her fangs sank deep.
Danica cried out, the joyous ecstasy tinged with a thread of agony. It wasn’t a plea to stop, and her mistress knew it, as she continued to feed.
As she took long, slow gulps of the crimson ambrosia flowing from Danica’s throat, a thin trickle of it slowly dribbled down her collarbone and breast onto the duvet.
Danica eventually patted Priscilla on the leg, her mistress immediately stopping and leaning up, wiping those thin lips and smiling.
“Please, mistress…”
“Please what, Dani?” she purred, smiling.
“I need to… I need to orgasm. Please…”
Priscilla rolled her over, giving her a single tender, loving kiss before her blood stained lips slowly trailed down her tender flesh.
The action made Danica moan hungrily into the cool night air that flowed in through the open bay doors, the repetitive, fleeting contact leaving a path of tiny goosebumps down her skin.
They reached the delicate silk of her panties, Priscilla’s teeth tugging them a little with a playful growl before she slipped them down and off. 
Those maddening, tender kisses made their way back up her legs, Danica parting them as Priscilla moved closer and closer to the one place she wanted those lips the most.
One last slow, tender kiss landed on the bald flesh of her mound, before Priscilla slowly inhaled her, the sound making Danica shiver.
Then her friend’s hot, wet tongue slowly passed from the bottom of her sex to the top, caressing the clitoris and opening her up a little.
Danica groaned, the small intrusion teasing, before the momentary stimulation of her slowly swelling button made her back arch a little.
Over and over, Priscilla’s tongue lovingly gave her sex a tender massage, slowly pushing a little deeper, swirling over her clitoris, occasionally suckling gently on the sensitive bundle of nerves.
A soft, liquid pleasure coursed through her, her fingers gripping the sheets and Priscilla’s hair as she moaned long and low, her hips pushing up in an attempt to get more of the pink muscle, more of that deliciously fleeting fullness.
Minutes passed, the pleasurable simmer of her arousal becoming a full inferno as she approached orgasm. Her breaths drew ragged, and she was sure that if her heart was beating, it would have been hammering a military tattoo against her ribs.
Then Priscilla eased a single finger inside, the penetration almost acting as a trigger for her deep, climactic release.
Her hips arched up off the bed, her eyes rolled back, and her entire body tightened up, clenching hard on the digit inside her before uncoiling as she let out a long, deep groan.
Wave after wave of immense pleasure rolled through her, causing her to almost pull Priscilla’s hair out as her hips rolled and bucked.
“Oh, fuck, Pris…” the words came out as a set of ragged barks, the slick, sensual warmth of the orgasm sapping her ability to speak fully.
Her mind blanked, and all she could do was hold on until it subsided, her hips crashing back to the bed, her breath choppy and erratic, her grip on the sheets and her mistress relaxing as she fought to return to reality.
Priscilla moved up, folding her into an embrace that was gentle and loving, kissing Danica softly as she held her.
“My day is definitely better now, mistress.”
“Good… I’m glad you are happier.” Priscilla chuckled as Danica nuzzled her nose.
Their peace was shattered by a knock at their apartment door. Priscilla frowned, and kissed her gently.
“Dress, and make some tea. I’ll get the door.”
Climbing off the bed, Priscilla pulled on a bra, panties, jeans and a shirt before slapping Danica on the ass on the way out.
Giving a soft yelp, Danica quickly pulled on a new bra and matching panties under a blue dress and hurried to the kitchen to make Earl Grey.
Returning to the living room with the tray and the cups and teapot, she saw a woman sat on the sofa opposite Priscilla. Placing it down, she took a swift glance at her and felt her sex clench.
The woman was beautiful, painfully so.
Taking her place beside Priscilla, the two of them waited for the woman to speak.
“I must admit…” the visitor said at length, the almost effortless command in her seductive tone making Danica shiver minutely with need. “I have not encountered many people in a relationship such as yours.”
“And what is our relationship to you? Who are you?”
“Ah, of course.” She sipped her tea. “I adore properly made Earl Grey. My name is Josephine de Havilland.”
“Priscilla Webster. This is Danica Reeves.”
“Charmed, I’m sure.”
As the woman spoke, Danica had the oddest sensation that the woman was looking into her soul, or that she was being studied like a bug under a microscope.
“What brings you to our apartment? Have we done wrong by the Elder? Are you a Regulator?”
“And if I was? What exactly would you be so worried about?”
“Are you a Regulator? Yes or no.”
“No, I’m not. I’m actually here on behalf of a different Elder entirely. I’m here to ask you to vote for Cesare Ravellino in the upcoming Moot.”
“Cesare? But we are Americans. Why would we vote for that sexist, misogynist pig?”
“Your bias is based on the fact that you know he would tear your relationship apart, not that he is a bad leader.”
“Bullshit! It’s based on –”
“It’s based on you fearing he would see just how the power dynamic in this apartment is, and crush it.”
“Power dynamic?”
“Your dominant slash submissive arrangement with your partner. I have never met you, but it is clear in the way you both sit, the way Miss Reeves looks to you for guidance in how to act and talk.”
“And so what if she’s my submissive? What me and my wife do is none of your business.”
“Everything is my business, Miss Webster.”
The words were spoken softly, almost hushed, but beside her, Danica felt Priscilla subtly shiver, an effect she knew all too well, as Priscilla often did it to her.
It was the shiver a submissive felt whenever their dominant was in charge, the anticipatory tension that betrayed their desire for whatever was ahead.
Looking Josephine in the eyes, Danica nearly gasped. She had seen dominants have hunger, or stoicism, or joy in their eyes, but in the eyes of the woman across from her, there was nothing.
Her voice, however… that was low, incisive, drenched in subtle command. Whoever she was, the woman was very skilled at making people pay close attention to her words.
“I am asking you to vote for him. Is that such a bad thing? Doing this for me would be gain you a great deal of pleasurable reward, Miss Webster.”
Another shiver, and Danica sipped her tea, unsure of how to react. When Priscilla spoke, Danica was shocked.
“I’ll think about it, Josephine.” Her voice was low, gentle, almost subservient.
“I’m sure you will. I would very much like to see more of the pair of you in the future.”
“As would I, Miss…”
Danica froze, wondering if the word had been an altogether different one but Priscilla had made an effort to stop herself.
“Thank you. The tea was wonderful. I’ll see myself out.” Josephine placed the cup down with a clink, and then was gone in a swirl of denim and cotton.
Danica stayed silent, not sure on how to react to what had just happened. Priscilla stood.
“Can you put the tea stuff away please, baby?”
She sounded confident, in charge, as if nothing had occurred between her and the woman who had been sat on the sofa.
Danica didn’t move, indecision fogging her mind and will. Her eyes followed Priscilla into the bathroom, and she was still sat on the sofa as her mistress came back out.
“Dani? Are you okay?”
“Huh? What?” Danica jumped, looking up at her.
“Are you okay? I asked you to put the tea stuff away in the kitchen.”
“I’m sorry, mistress. I…” She fell silent, unsure of how to broach the subject.
Priscilla sat down beside her and pulled her into a cradled embrace, stroking her hair. “Honey, talk to me. I’m not asking as your mistress. I’m asking as your wife. Talk to me, please.”
“Do you want her? To kneel to her?”
“What?”
“The Havilland woman. Do you want to kneel to her?”
“Why the fuck would I want to do that? I’m not a submissive.”
“I felt you shiver… I heard your voice. Pris, you sounded just like I do around you when you’re in mistress mode. Goddammit you even acted like I do.”
She heard the soft intake of breath as Priscilla gasped, her body tensing. “Dani, I’m not going to be a submissive. Not least to her!”
“But you want to be. It’s one of the first things you taught me. A submissive knows when she wants to yield to her mistress. I know it, and you sure as hell wanted to. Don’t lie to me, Pris.”
“I’m not lying to you. I’m not, and never will be a submissive. And even if I wanted to be one, it wouldn’t be to a creepy blonde bitch like her. Do you understand me, baby?”
Danica nodded, shivering a little. Standing, she picked up the tea set and headed into the kitchen, washing it with shaking hands.
Priscilla’s strong arms slid around her waist, her lips sucking and nipping at her neck, Danica instinctively melting into a responsive slump.
“Dani, baby…” Priscilla’s voice was soft, but the unmistakable snap of command cracked like a whip. “You’re the only one for me… always… I am your wife, your mistress…”
As she spoke, her hand slowly ran up Danica’s thigh, then down beneath the lace of the painted to slowly caress and tease.
“You promise, mistress?” Animal need made the words a groaned plea.
“I promise, that the only one that will moan my name, whisper it into the dark in the throes of a deep orgasm, is you, baby. Only you will hear your name follow these words… I love you…”
Danica broke, climaxing with a tremendous shudder over the hand of Priscilla, her head on the shoulder of her mistress as she reached up to kiss her, her tongue seeking entry into the mouth of her beloved.
Priscilla allowed it, passionately kissing her with a feral hunger, her fingers dancing on the sensitive flesh between Danica’s thighs.
“Mistress… please…”
“Come with me.” She took her hand from beneath the lace, linked it with her own and led her from the kitchen.
Danica let herself be led to the bed, her clothes scattering the floor as she once more fell under the spell of her mistress, content to let her worries be erased, if only for a short while.

Honor Before Reason

The small car slid to a smooth stop, the hustle and bustle of Tokyo in full effect as humanity scurried back and forth in their daily business.
While Kimiko thanked the driver and climbed out of the car, Liling suddenly shivered. Stepping out of the vehicle meant definitively placing her life in the hands of Jiāháo, and out of her own.
The driver glanced back at her, impatient to resume the journey he had been on before he had stopped to pick the pair of them up, his small eyes narrowed.
Nodding to him, Liling slid out of the car.
The moment she shut the door, the car sped off in a squeal of rubber and acrid smoke. Coughing at the sour fumes, she stepped away out of the flow of people.
Kimiko was swiftly beside her, ushering her a little further off of the street, the cloth bag that swung from her hand beginning to smell quite horrific.
“Are you well? You look very ill.” Kimiko was quiet, genuine concern etched on her thin face as she looked Liling up and down.
“I am not ill. I am afraid.”
“Afraid?” Kimiko echoed, then raised her hand to forestall Liling. “No, I am not going to mock or belittle you. Fear is understandable. I do not deny that now we are in Tokyo, I feel uneasy. The axe of the Headsman hangs over us, Liling, and one wrong step on our end will result in it falling swift and sharp.”
A small nod was all Liling could manage, bile rising in her throat. Darting into the alley behind her, she bent double and heaved, the acidic burn of the vomit searing her throat as it spattered the wall and alley floor.
Kimiko didn’t join her, remaining at the mouth of the alleyway, but Liling was unable to speak, spasms wracking her diaphragm until her stomach was empty, dry heaves making her shake as she fell to her knees.
“Why… aren’t… you… sick…?” she finally managed to gasp out, looking up at Kimiko as she gripped her aching stomach.
“I am used to uncertainty of survival. I felt it a great deal during my activities before my exile, Liling. It has very little sway over me now. I do fear that I may not survive this day, but it no longer carries the nauseating aspect that it once did.”
“Lucky you…” Liling laughed, then wished she hadn’t as another wave of heaving took hold of her.
They lasted moments, and Liling was able to drag herself to her feet. Taking several deep, shaky breaths, she closed her eyes as she attempted to centre herself and focus.
Jiāháo won’t listen… he will call for Shinji to take both of your heads… a small, niggling voice in the back of her mind piped up. You should flee, leave her to her fate…
Shaking off the thoughts with a minute growl of frustration, she glanced over at Kimiko. The older vampire was serene, stoic, gazing back at her with eyes that held peaceful acceptance.
She doesn’t care… she knows she could die and she doesn’t care. She’s insane. She lost her mind in her exile and is dragging me into a certain death with her.
“Problem, Liling?” Kimiko said softly, that soft and serene expression not shifting.
“I…” Liling paused. She wanted to ask a very pertinent question, but didn’t want to invoke the fury of the only friend she now had in the world.
“You… what?”
“With all due respect, Kimiko, have you lost your mind?”
“And what makes you think I have gone insane Liling? Do I froth at the mouth? Do I gibber and bounce off padded walls, restrained within the cloth and leather of a straight jacket?”
“No. But…” Sighing softly, she met the gaze of her friend. “You know we could die the moment we step into the home of Hiroko. You know that Shinji will most likely have our blood upon the end of his blade by the time the sun sets. But you are… calm. Why?”
“Because I do not fight the things I cannot change. It is futile to try and control what I have no say over. We are here in Tokyo. We both know we are almost certainly destined to lose our heads at the hands of Shinji. Fate is a cruel mistress, it has always been so. Therefore I choose to face my possible end today without fear, without panic. I will die as I see fit. I will not let Jiāháo and Hiroko determine whether I die as a coward, pleading for mercy. Or as a vampire trying to save the lives of everyone who turned the back upon me.”
Gazing at Kimiko, Liling suddenly felt a swell of both envy and shame. Her own mind was full of frustration and panic, unable to quieten down to allow her to think.
Once again, Kimiko was being a perfect role model. No fear, no hesitation. Just simple and clear acceptance of her fate. Her back was straight, her shoulders squared, and her chin was raised in quiet, dignified defiance of what lay ahead.
Closing her eyes once again, Liling took a few more deep, cleansing breaths, each one shaking less than the last, until finally she was as still and unwavering as the buildings around them.
“Let’s go. Get this over with.”
Kimiko smiled, and set off down the street. The pair of them quickly fell into step, both watching the streets around them.
Not five minutes had passed before Kimiko gave her a soft nudge. “We are surrounded.”
“I know. Agents of Hiroko. Jiāháo knows we are here in Tokyo. I should not be surprised if we are halted in a moment.”
Kimiko gave an imperceptible nod, continuing to walk as if nothing was amiss. Meanwhile, all around them, more of the suit wearing members of Hiroko’s security force joined the crowd, their positions keeping Kimiko and Liling in their centre at all times.
As they turned a corner, a serious looking bald man stepped directly in their path and the pair of them were suddenly hustled off of the street into a small café, where the agents surrounded them both, blocking off the exits.
Pushed into a pair of chairs as the tables were shoved haphazardly to the sides of the room, the two women watched as the agents took up their positions. Liling took a moment to glance at her friend, who still looked completely unresponsive to the attempted intimidation.
As she looked around the room, taking in the appearances of the men and women that were all motionless, watching her and Kimiko, Liling felt the same lack of threat.
Had Shinji or Hiroko been in the room, there would undoubtedly have been an air of danger or tension, but the ones sent to corral them were all Fledglings.
Either one of them could have wiped the floor with them all, had they wished to. There was little to stop them, but she was curious as to how far the young vampires would push things.
The bald vampire stood before them, looking from one to the other, as if weighing his options about what to do with them.
“Names.” He eventually asked, his voice low and menacing. Liling stayed quiet, as did Kimiko beside her. “I said… names.”
Neither woman replied, and he let out a deep sigh. Pacing back and forth, he rubbed the bridge of his nose before turning back to them.
“I am authorized by Jiāháo Yang and Hiroko Tsung to extract information from you by any and all means I deem necessary. So before this turns bloody, give me your names.”
Liling glanced at Kimiko once more, getting a nod and a very small smile in return, a smile that almost seemed to say go ahead… let him know how much trouble he is about to drop himself in.
Gazing directly into his eyes, Liling gave him a soft smile. “My name is Liling Zhang.”
“And I am Kimiko Tanahashi.” Came the quiet response from beside her.
The man paused, his eyes darting from Kimiko to her and back again, over and over, his mind not apparently processing the words. But all around the room, whispers were passing back and forth between the others.
“Silence. All of you!” he barked, his colleagues all immediately complying. “So… two exiles. Not only that… a traitor and a former Elder… neither of you have a place here. So why return to Tokyo at all? Speak!”
“Our business in this city is no business of you or your underlings.” Kimiko snapped.
“Oh, but it is. I report directly to the aide of our Elder. My business is his business, and therefore the business of Mistress Tsung. So spit it out.”
“What we are doing is only for the eyes and ears of Hiroko Tsung. Not yours.”
Kimiko stood as she spoke, only to be pushed back into the chair hard enough that the wood splintered a little. Liling watched her, and saw the docile restraint slip a little.
With eyes that burned with venomous fury, she stared right at him. “Push me again, and all of you suffer.”
“There are seventeen of us, idiot woman. Keep quiet unless asked a question.”
Kimiko didn’t take her eyes off of him as she slowly rose to her feet once more. What came next was so quick, Liling was uncertain what Kimiko had actually done.
The man reached out to push her back into the chair again, only for Kimiko to seemingly glide out of the path of his hand, yank it sharply down and send him crashing into the chair.
She gazed down at him, that volcanic rage she had leashed turning her hazel eyes an iridescent and luminous red.
The vampires dotted around the room glanced at one another, drew knives and slowly moved in towards Kimiko. Refusing to let her be completely surrounded, Liling rose and stood back to back with her.
The Fledglings paused, but nevertheless began to close in. As they came within feet of the two women, she heard Kimiko in the back of her mind, the link shaking in rage.
Do not kill them. We don’t need things worse for us before we even reach our destination. Disarm them and incapacitate them.
Done. Liling replied, then, as the first pair of them stepped in, jabbing with the blades in their hands, she turned sideways.
The daggers slid past her on either side of her torso, the serrated edges snagging on her shirt, but her arms were already in motion.
Her right elbow struck the first in the jaw with a sickening thud, while her left hand snapped the wrist behind her and yanked it downwards, the staggering male being elbowed hard in the back of the head.
By the time the pair had hit the floor, she was moving. Another was unconscious before he felt the knee to the ribs and forearm to the temple that floored him.
A fourth was thrown bodily through several of the tables against the far wall before a fifth sailed through the café window, startling the humans outside and scattering them like quail.
Turning, she wasn’t surprised to see that the rest were already down and out, Liling quietly and calmly picking up the cloth bag they had brought with them.
The leader of the group grabbed the bottom of the bag, weakly trying to claw his way back up to his feet. “By the authority of the Elder, I – ”
His words were cut short by a swift, sharp open hand chop to the neck, knocking him out before he slid to the floor in a boneless heap.
“Moron. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. In fact, I missed the rush of combat, even against inferior adversaries such as these young ones.”
“Yes. It has been a while since I fought hand to hand. I enjoy it far more than using weapons or the modern firearms. I always saw it has a sign of weakness if you had to resort to an aid.”
“Yet sometimes,” Liling smiled as she held the door for Kimiko, who swept through it with a small smile and nod. “you cannot win a fight by brute force alone. Those that always rely on their speed, or strength, or wits alone, will inevitably lose more often than they win.”
“Correct. A true warrior learns to balance all of their assets to disguise their weaknesses, so as to present as difficult an opponent as possible to their enemy.”
“You taught me that…” Liling grinned.
Kimiko paused, turning to stare at her, surprise large on her face. “I did?”
“Yes. I learned a lot by watching the way you fought. You are possibly the greatest tactician I have had the pleasure and honor to witness.”
“Well, thank you, Liling. I’m touched.” Her voice sounded genuinely choked up.
Smiling at the look of embarrassed pride on the face of her unknowing mentor, Liling looked up the street and saw the small sigil of Hiroko on the outside of a small house.
“There it is. Smaller than I expected.”
“She moved shortly after you were exiled, I think. I was not brought here when I was exiled myself. I was taken to Shanghai.”
“Well, she kept it modest. Although now I think on it, I don’t see her living in a skyscraper, do you?”
“With her fear of heights? Not really.”
“Wait… Hiroko is scared of heights? Don’t the Buckley family live in a tower in the centre of New York?”
“They do. Which makes me wonder how they intend to accommodate her. But that is a concern for the Buckleys. Our concern is far more pressing and quite a great deal more lethal.”
Liling gave a swift nod, crossing the street side by side with Kimiko and stopping at the front door of the home of the Elder.
“Liling?” Kimiko suddenly said as Liling was about to ring the doorbell.
“Yes?”
“Should the worst happen from here, it was a pleasure and honor knowing you. You are quite the amazing woman.”
“As you are, Kimiko. The honor was mine.”
Nodding once to each other, Liling took a deep breath and rang the doorbell, the sound almost a death knell in the quiet.
It was immediately answered by a young lady, and fifteen seconds later the pair of them were being held at sword point by far older and stronger vampires than the ones they had fought in the café.
The bag was taken from Kimiko, before they were forced to kneel. Minutes passed, then the soft sound of footsteps on the stairs reached their ears and they looked up.
Jiāháo was descending from the upper floor, the hulking shape of Shinji beside him, a brutal looking double headed axe casually hefted over his shoulder.
Jiāháo stopped at the foot of the stairs, hand on the ornate dragon carving at the end of the rail that ran parallel with them.
“Kimiko… Liling… I must admit I am very, very disappointed with the both of you. Our mistress exiled you because it was the better of the two choices. But this… disobeying the exile and returning to Tokyo… she will have your heads for this.”
“We know that. And we both accept full and honest responsibility for this grievous error. The punishment our mistress deigns to condemn us to, we accept it with clear conscience.”
“Clear conscience… hmm… I’ll be sure to tell Mistress Hiroko that.” He turned to walk back up when Kimiko gave a quiet shout.
“Jiāháo.”
Turning back, he gazed imperiously down at her, not speaking, patiently waiting for her to give a further speech.
“You know me. You know I would not return to this city, knowing what awaits, without having a perfectly good reason. I would not risk my life for nothing. I never have.”
“That is true.” His gaze flickered to Liling for a moment, “Neither have you, Liling. But I am not interested in reminiscing. If you have such a valid reason for being here, admit it.”
Kimiko nodded to the cloth bag. “That. Open it, Jiāháo. Our reason for returning is in there.”
“Roadkill?” he sniffed, eyeing the blood that stained the bag and slowly dripped on the floor.
“Of a kind. Just… open it.”
Jiāháo paused, gazing back and forth between the bag and Kimiko. Curiosity inevitably won the decision, and he crossed to the vampire holding the bag.
Taking it, he wrinkled his nose at the smell of the rotting flesh. Loosening the string that kept it closed, he pulled the top of the bag open and gave a small retch.
Fighting it down, he opened it a little further and glanced inside. His eyes widened. “Is this a genuine head?”
“Genuine. Taken off a wolf after we were both forced to fight through a night to kill several of them that ambushed us.”
“The mistress must be warned of this. Asuka, contact the plane company that the mistress uses to travel. Charter one for as soon as possible.”
“How many people, sir?”
“Three.”
“You believe us?” Liling gasped.
“We are coming with you?” Kimiko added at the same time.
“Yes. You are coming to New York with me, the pair of you. This werewolf head is a very bad omen. Mistress Hiroko must be warned of this, as must the Alphas. There are clean clothes upstairs, so shower, dress and return down here. Go.”
The vampires around them immediately took the swords from the throats of Liling and Kimiko, who glanced at one another and hastened to obey Jiāháo.
Liling showered briskly, the warm water giving her a surge of energy, before she dressed in a black suit similar to the one favored by Hiroko. As she came out, she found Kimiko straightened the lapels of an identical suit, albeit a charcoal grey.
Gazing at one another, Liling smiled.
“So, we don’t die today.”
“Not today. But we have yet to come face to face with the Serpent. She will not be as quick to trust or forgive us.”
“But we will face her wrath together.” Liling placed her hand on the shoulder of her friend, who nodded and did likewise.
“Are you two ready to depart?” The stern tone of Jiāháo echoed from downstairs. Both women immediately hurried down, finding him waiting at the front door.
“We are ready.” Kimiko nodded.
Without a further word, Jiāháo headed out of the front door. With one last glance, Kimiko and Liling followed, side by side as they headed for an uncertain future.

The Buckleys pt.2: Hearts Aflame

Standing upon the balcony of his Australian home, Elias felt the warm morning air wash over him. He had stepped out onto it from the bedroom, clad only in black pyjama bottoms that hung low on his hips.

Magdalena had chosen to spend the New Year’s weekend with him, and despite her kisses, he suspected she sought further intimacy but was nervous to admit it to him.

She had, on several occasions, clung to him closer, kissed him harder, spoke to him with more desire in her tone. But he didn’t want to misread the situation.

“I woke and you weren’t there…” her soft voice sounded from within the bedroom. Glancing back, he felt a stir of hunger as she slowly padded towards him.

She was wrapped in one of the sheets from the bed, her long legs on display, her statuesque frame barely hidden beneath the tight clinging fabric as it rustled along the floor with each step.

“I couldn’t sleep. Quite a few things on my mind.”

“Anything you wish to talk about?” She closed the gap between them, draping an arm on his shoulder as she gazed at him with hooded eyes.

Smiling at her, he paused, glancing out at the Sydney scenery.

“It sure is beautiful here. Thank you for sharing it with me.” Magdalena absently stroked his cheek with the back of her hand as she followed his gaze to the surrounding compound.

“You’re very welcome, Mags. This place gets very quiet and lonely without company. But the doors to this place will always be open to you… in fact…” Turning, he headed indoors, grabbed the small key from the bedside table and returned to her, slipping his arms around her waist and holding it up before her. “Here…”

She looked at the key then back up at him, smiling softly. “For me? You want me to… stay here with you or…?”

“Not necessarily here… unless you want to. I’m happy to move anywhere you want. This key… this is me saying I want to live with you. Somewhere… anywhere….”

Magdalena’s smile broadened as she gripped the key in her delicate hand and kissed him hard, pulling him into her. “I love you, Elias. I’d follow you anywhere.”

“Not follow. Side by side, Mags. You’ll never stand behind any man again.” She wrapped her arms around him, letting the sheet pool around her feet as she kissed him again, running her hands through his hair. She dropped a hand and took his, leading him back to the bedroom where she turned back to him.

“I want you, Elias. All of you. I’m ready.” She gazed up at him, dropping the key on the bedside table as she did so.

Elias hesitated for a moment, then pulled her into a long, searching kiss, his tongue gently seeking entry to her mouth as his hands roamed her soft skin to grip her pert buttocks, lifting her off the floor.

Magdalena gasped softly, gripping him tighter as she returned the kiss, welcoming his tongue into her mouth as she sought his. She wrapped her legs around him, running her fingers back through his hair as she draped her arms around his neck.

Laying her down on the bed, his lips travelled to her long, slender neck, sucking the flesh softly before his fangs took fleeting, shallow nips, his hands still clenching her ass as if claiming it by his simple grip.

She gasped again, tilting her head back to allow him better access to her neck. Biting her lip as goosebumps sheeted her flesh. She moaned softly as her nipples hardened from the growing pleasure under his touch.

Feeling the soft sheen of goosebumps ripple across her skin, Elias smiled, his lips travelling along her collarbone to the smooth, porcelain expanse between her breasts. There was a pink flush to her skin, and he could smell the arousal building between her thighs.

Nuzzling her left nipple gently, he ran his tongue over the stiff little nub before taking it into his mouth, sucking softly as his teeth tugged on it.

She shuddered slightly as he nipped her, arching her back as she tightened the grip on his hair, encouraging him to continue. 

Sucking gently, Elias slid his left hand round her leg to cup her bald mound, groaning a little at how wet she was under his touch. “Jesus, Mags… you’re soaked…”

Crimson rushed to her cheeks as she bit her lip again, gazing at him endearingly, she nodded slightly. “I- I haven’t been touched like this before, Elias. Don’t stop, please.”

He nodded. “You’ll tell me if you want to stop though, won’t you?”

“I will, but for now…don’t.” She brushed his cheek, smiling softly. Elias cupped her cheek with his free hand and kissed her tenderly, easing a single finger into her as he did so.

She arched again, moaning softly as she closed her eyes. “Yes… Elias…” Her voice soft and breathy.

Still kissing her as his finger slowly slid in and out of her wet, warm core, Elias slid his other hand down and cupped her breast, rolling her nipple gently between his long fingers.

She moaned again, a little deeper as her need grew. Trailing her hand down his back with a feather light touch, running them along his pyjama waistline then back up his back.

Elias paused, looking in her eyes. “Do you want them off?”

She nodded, gazing at him with a flash of uncertainty in her eyes. “I want to feel you against me.”

Elias nodded, just once. Slipping off the bed, he met her gaze and took hold of his pyjamas, sliding them down and off. He didn’t immediately rejoin her, instead giving her a moment to get used to him naked.

She rolled to her side and watched him, glancing up and down his form as she smiled softly. “That’s better. Isn’t it?”

“Is it? You don’t think I’m ugly?”

“Ugly? How could you think that? You’re gorgeous, my love.”

“And you are divine, Mags… I’ve never seen someone who looks so perfect and exquisite as you… I would never change a single thing about you. To do so would be akin to drawing on the Mona Lisa with a sharpie.”

She giggled, blushing again as she glanced down sheepishly. “I wouldn’t go that far, Elias.”

“I would. I’d go further.” He climbed on the bed and laid between her legs, feeling her wet warmth nestled against his full length. “But I know genuine compliments are still a foreign thing to you.” He smiled, before kissing her again.

She smiled into the kiss, wrapping her arms back around him as she ran her hand back down his back to cup his ass. “Now, where were we?”

Elias gazed her naked body from head to toe, then met her hungry, nervous eyes. “I was about to make love to my wife. But I need to do something else first, Mags.”

“Oh? What is that, dear?” She gazed at him inquisitively with a slight tilt of her head.

Elias didn’t break the gaze, not even as he rolled them over so she was atop him, straddling him. “That. I want you to do this, Mags. Your pace… your speed. You always had consent and control taken from you. So take it back. Make love to me.”

She gazed down at him, wrinkling her petite nose a little. “I don’t know if I know how, Elias.”

“Take hold of me, Mags… guide me into you. You can do this. We have all night. Take your time.”

She took a deep breath and nodded, running her hand down his chest until she reached his hardened length and raised herself up, hesitated then guided him into her. She lowered herself onto him with a shuddered gasp, resting on him a moment as her tightness stretched around him.

Elias groaned as she enveloped him, amazed by how perfectly she seemed to fit around him. He could see the pain and uncertainty in her eyes, and almost began to roll them back over, until he saw the infinitesimal relaxation in her shoulders. Smiling, he took her hands and guided them to his chest, giving her a little more stability. “I’m all yours, Magda.”

She nodded slightly and began slowly rocking her hips back and forth, shuddering as he moved inside her. Her mouth opened as her eyes closed in a silent moan of pleasure.

As Magda slowly rode him, her body writhing atop him, Elias kept his grip soft, quietly speaking to her as she moved. “It’s okay, Mags. I’m here. You’re doing so well, my love. You are so beautiful.”

Her need growing as her body adjusted to having someone inside her, she quickened the pace a little, gripping his chest a bit tighter as she moaned.

“That’s it, my love… let it out… I want to hear you, Mags…”

Her body begins to quake as she grinds on him, deepening his length into her with a deep moan.

Elias smiled, watching his wife beginning to let go of her past, the pain, the torment and the horrific memories slowly beginning to mean less with every sinuous grind of her hips.

He knew she would need a lot more time before it no longer affected her as much as it did, if it ever even did leave her. But, as he watched her acting more freely and passionately as she had for many years, he knew he didn’t care. He knew he would stand beside her and be there every step of the way.

As this occurred to him, Elias gripped her hips a little tighter. “I love you, Mags.”

She opened her eyes at the sound of his voice and gazed down at him, answering him breathlessly, “I love you, too, Elias. Thank you…for everything, but mostly for how patient and loving you have been with me.”

With that, she closed her eyes and resumed slowly making love to her husband. Her moans and gasps grew more frequent as her climax grew. Gazing down at him, hunger apparent in her eyes she pressed her hips back onto him deeper and harder still, releasing a guttural groan as she shuddered atop him as she came. She collapsed onto his chest as her body quaked in the aftermath, breathing heavily she lay in his embrace.

Elias held her, stroking her hair. He didn’t care that his own release had not occurred. He only cared that she was okay, and that she was not regretting her decision. Kissing the top of her head, he stroked her cheek, waiting patiently for her to speak.

Magdalena glazed up at him from his chest and cupped his cheek, “That was…wow. Was it okay? Did I do okay?” She bit her lip nervously. “You didn’t…” She frowned slightly, not breaking eye contact with him as she sought an answer from his face.

“No, I didn’t. But that isn’t important. And yes, it was more than okay. You did so well, Mags. I’m so damn proud of you right now. So, so proud.” He gave her a warm, encouraging smile.

She furrowed her brow and nodded. “I’m just not used to…well, any of that. Being on top, or in charge, nor…nevermind. Just hold me. I feel- vulnerable, but strong at the same time, Elias.”

He nodded. “I get it. You’re not used to being asked to be in control. And I won’t do it every time. I promise. But it will become second nature, Mags. Honestly, though, you did so well.” He whispered as he cuddled her, stroking her hair.

He could feel her still clenching on him a little as he began to soften inside her, and it was a wonderful sensation. He wondered if she was doing it on purpose for a moment, but the look of weary exertion in her eyes told him it was a reflex. “Are you tired, my love?”

“A little. I could sleep. What was on your mind that woke you? Will you be able to sleep now?” She ran a hand idly along his chest as they cuddled.

“Perhaps. I will tell you when you wake, my love. Sleep. No need to move.” He pulled the covers over them both, leaving Magda clinging to him like a vine. She snuggled closer, gave him a soft kiss on the cheek and closed her eyes.

Moments later, she was asleep. Smiling softly down at her, he closed his own eyes and soon joined her, loving pride burning in his chest.

The Buckleys pt.1: A Christmas Romance

Although she had thick wool mittens on, Magda could feel Elias’s strong hand grasping hers, and she felt utterly safe. If Cesare had ever taken her out like this, the grip would have been commanding, not encouraging. The trip would have been a tense, terrifying exercise in testing her obedience.

Instead, she felt free, fully aware she had no reason to be afraid of the powerful, handsome man that walked beside her at her pace, happily stopping as she eagerly gazed into random shop windows along their path.

As she gazed in through a window of a gourmet chocolatier, Elias gave her a soft squeeze, asking in that honeyed voice,  “Thinking of a present for Nikita?”

Magda blushed slightly. “Yes… Nikita…” she chuckled weakly.

“Want to go in? I’m sure there is something in there you can find…”

Magda smiled and squealed softly, hurrying into the warm, fragrant shop with a childlike grin. The air smelled of caramel, mint, Turkish Delight, strawberries… it was such an enticing concoction that Magda took a moment to just breathe it in, her lungs filling and making her wonder if she could get an oxygen tank full of it.

Slowly perusing the shelves, Magda bit her lip and clenched her fists to stop from taking chunks from the display bowls and shoving them in her mouth. Glancing back, she saw Elias studying a selection of Irish liquor chocolates, most likely for Dana, who was a fan of them.

Grinning softly, Magda returned her gaze to a box of caramel squares. Grace was partial to them, and would always stop to pick some up. At Christmas, however, Magda was determined to make Grace smile a little because of her.

As she picked up a box of them, Magda paused. What the hell do I get for Gaia… that woman is a mystery…

Her eyes fell on strawberry filled hearts and she snorted softly, shaking her head. I really don’t think so… she mused, picturing the look of utter disgust on Gaia’s face. Biting her lip, she thought about what her fiancés aide would like.

“Gaia?” Elias softly said beside her, making her jump a little. She nodded, meeting his calm, loving gaze.

“Yes. That woman is an enigma. Does she even like chocolate?”

Elias looked around the shop, and pointed to a display of mint drops.

“Try them. At worst, she says she isn’t a fan of chocolate and you have to eat them.”

“True.” Magda giggled, picking up the box and heading for the counter. Paying for them, she took his hand and headed back out into the cold December night, where snow was beginning to fall lazily from the sky.

Shifting a little closer, Magda took her time. Nikita, Grace and Dana were all chocolate fans, but they would not suffice as a Christmas present.

“Elias?”

“Yes, my love?”

“I’m going to sound stupid, but is Grace a snob?”

“A what?”

“You know, someone who gets upset if they don’t get anything expensive or high tech for Christmas?”

Elias stopped and gently pulled her to one side, out of the way, before cupping her cheek. “Mags… Grace won’t care what you get her. The only person who really has to get her a present for tomorrow is Dana. Stop worrying.”

Magda flinched a little at his touch, but Elias simply took his hand away and took hers again. A little relieved, she gazed in the windows of the stores and suddenly smiled.

“Look at that… isn’t that amazing?”

In the window of the store was a wooden statue of lovers embracing, both female in shape. It was artfully carved and sturdy. Magdalena quickly headed in and purchased it, smiling widely at Elias.

“For Grace and Dana?”

She nodded, still beaming. “Can we go and see the ice skaters?”

“Don’t you want to finish your shopping?” He asked softly, and Magda paused. Biting her lip, she nodded. 

“Yes. The skaters can wait.” She kissed his cheek, gripped his arm and wandered down the street. Shopping for their other five guests was surprisingly quite quick and easy, the shops they passed holding small things that would make their guests smile at the very least – including a silver pentacle entwined in roses for Nikita, and a dragon statuette for Ariella – they made their way to Central Park, where an ice rink had been set up and the humans were skating upon it.

She leaned against his shoulder as they watched them, until one of them fell on their ass. Magda couldn’t help it – she burst out in laughter. Elias looked down at her, smiling softly as she clapped her hand over her mouth.

“I love your laugh…” his voice was quiet, warm and made her shiver. Her lips were slightly parted and quivering a little. She gazed into his eyes, and then it happened.

To her utter shock, he leaned in and kissed her. His lips were warm and as soft as velvet, tasting a little of the coffee they had drank. It was fleeting, however, as he quickly leaned back.

“Magda… I’m so sorry.” The sincere guilt in his tone made her heart wrench. She knew he had been so patient with her, yet fear still crippled her. She bit her lip, but didn’t pull away. 

“Elias…I know you are not Cesare. Nothing like him. If anything, I owe you a kiss after all this time.”

“You owe me nothing, Magda. Not a single thing.” His hand reached up and cupped her cheek gently. “You will never owe me. I don’t care if you never kiss me. As long as you are comfortable, I’ll always be happy.”

She smiled gently up at him and closed the distance between them, kissing him again. “You have made that abundantly clear, Elias. I appreciate it more than you may ever truly know.”

Elias leaned his forehead against hers, just breathing her in for a moment, then ran his thumb gently across her lips and gave her a boyish, charming smile. “Shall we get back to the apartment? The others will be here soon, and it is far warmer there.”

Magdalena smiled and nodded, sighing softly. “I enjoyed today. Christmas with you is always the best time of year.”

Taking her by the hand and squeezing it a little, he began the slow walk back to the hotel. “You just love Christmas because of the chocolate and the presents…” he chuckled.

She nudged him playfully and giggled, “That’s not entirely true. I enjoy it much more, now that I get to spend it with you.”

“And I love spending it with you. Waking up to you every morning is the best gift I could ever have asked for.”

Magdalena’s smile broadened as they walked, she swung her bags of gifts, and leaned into his arm as they headed for the apartment, snow wiping away their footsteps as they passed.

One Man War

Humans… all the bloody same.

It was the first thought that crossed the mind of Killian as he closed the car door with a slow swing and looked around him at the milling mortals in the streets.

Always in an important rush to get somewhere that doesn’t even matter in the end. No wonder they’re dying out.

His eyes fell on a woman coming up the street in the opposite direction. She had the look of his sister, but carried an aura of dark warning. He wondered if she was one of his kind, but she crossed the street, rounded the corner and was gone.

The thought to follow and question her briefly tempted him, but he had a job to do. Crossing the street, he ascended the steps of the hotel, adjusting his jacket as he went, and entered the foyer through the revolving doors.

It was clearly an upper class establishment, as the furnishings were marble and gilt metal. The wood of the front desk was finely polished oak, the man behind impeccably dressed, if not slightly inflated by self importance.

Stopping at the front desk, Killian inwardly gave a small sigh before fixing him with a blank expression, trying not to punch him.

“Can I help you, sir?” the concierge asked, his voice nearly dripping with smug superiority. The urge to bounce his head off of the desk increased, but Killian kept his voice steady.

“I sincerely doubt it, but I am looking for the room of one of your guests.”

“We are not obliged to give out information to strangers about our guests, sir. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Killian smiled.

“Yes. As it happens, I’ve got a bit of a problem I need a second opinion on.”

“And you think I can help?”

“I know you can. I’ll need to whisper it. It’s a little… personal.” Killian told him, sounding a little conspiratorial, a little embarrassed.

The man behind the desk leaned in, his eyes lighting up at the potential humiliation Killian was about to put himself through.

“What’s causing you trouble, friend?”

Killian’s smile vanished, as if someone had turned off the muscles in his jaw.

“You are.” He replied.

Before the man could react, Killian reached up, grasped the back of his head and slammed it into the solid oak. There was a resounding thud and the man slumped into an unconscious heap in the gap behind the desk.

The blow had only been hard enough to knock him out, not to cause any lasting damage, as Elias would have gone ballistic had Killian killed any none Brotherhood humans. It was really the only restriction Elias had placed on him in the course of his work.

Turning the computer towards him, he looked through the records and found nothing. Sighing in exasperation, he turned the computer back.

Fine, I’ll do this the old fashioned way.

Stepping away from the desk, he closed his eyes and searched for scent trails. The smell of humans filled his nose, until – tucked away on the top floor of the hotel – was a faint scent of vampire.

Opening his eyes, Killian made his way slowly up the stairs. As he walked, he took a small knife from his pocket. It was an ornate thing, given to him by his sister.

The handle was a carved head of a wolf made of black ebony. The blade was slightly serrated, and as sharp as the fangs in his mouth. It would be enough to kill young fledglings, three of which were now only a few floors above him.

As he stepped onto the floor the fledglings were residing on, he stopped. At the other end of the hall was a maid, her focus on her cart while she was folding towels. She was also right outside the door Killian was needing.

Walking slowly down the hall, Killian stopped right behind her. He clamped a hand over her nose and mouth and held her against him, rendering her unconscious in seconds.

Lowering her to the ground slowly so as not to alert the vampires inside, he took the key and from her pocket and let himself into the room. It was quiet. Slowly walking down the small hallway that lead to the main room, he kept his head cocked to one side, listening for the sounds of approaching footsteps.

He found the first of them in the main room, gazing out of the window. Killian kept the knife behind his back, judging the distance. As he took the brief time to do so, the distinctive click of the hammer of a revolver sounded.

Killian sighed.

The barrel touched his temple, just as another prodded the other side of his head. One of them took the knife from his hand, and Killian shook in anger.

“Give me the knife back.” He warned, his tone low and serious.

“So you can use it on us?”

“Give me the knife back or I will use it to shred you into pieces to feed to dogs.” Killian replied, still in the same, quiet tone. The one stood near the window turned, grinning like a loon.

“You’re outnumbered, dumbass. Three against one. You move, you get your brains blown out, you see?”

Killian yanked his own head back, and the sudden movement made the one that had hold of the revolver pull the trigger convulsively, which caused him to splatter the brains of his friend over the nearby wall.

In the moment where the two others gazed at the mess that was once their friend’s head, Killian grabbed the wrist of the hand holding the gun, yanked it towards him and slammed an elbow into his face. The man reeled back in pained shock, and Killian twisted the arm up, squeezed down on the man’s finger over the trigger and made him shoot himself in the face.

Letting him drop, Killian focused on the last one, who was wielding his knife, ready to try and murder Killian with his own blade. Inching slowly forward, he kept the knife ready to lash out.

Killian kept his own gaze on the man’s eyes, waiting patiently to see where the strike would be aimed, as an untrained fighter always looked at where they would attack.

The eyes glanced down at his stomach, and sure enough the knife followed. Killian turned in to the thrust, grabbed the wrist and snapped it as he drove his shoulder into the man’s chest.

The man staggered back.

Killian stalked towards him and drove the knife into his gut, yanking it sharply upwards. As the knife struck bone, Killian swiftly slashed the man’s throat, leaving him to die.

Exiting the room, Killian walked past a group of men coming the opposite direction. He nodded politely to them as he allowed them to pass. As he made to carry on down the hall to the stairs, one of them stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t I know you?”

“Yes. I’ll be the man who takes your hand off of your arm if you don’t take it off of me.”

The man let go, a grimace flashing across his face momentarily. “No… I know you. I saw you in Dallas. You… you’re – ”

Killian punched him, knocking him to the floor with a thud. Sprawled on the ground, he looked up at Killian with angry eyes.

“What the hell, man?”

Killian didn’t answer. He turned on his heel and resumed walking towards the stairs, only for the shouts of the other men to sound in the quiet, their outrage at finding the bodies of the three men in the room.

Killian made it to the top of the stairs before they caught up. They surrounded him, two of them standing on the step below him, the other three behind him.

“Vampire, you’re sentenced to execution. Do you have anything to say in your defense?”

“I don’t answer to Vânătors.”

“All of you bloodsucking leeches do.”

“None of us answer to you, moron, least of all me. Go and bully other humans.” Killian replied, placing his hand on the railing of the stairway.

“We are licensed members of the Sunglaive Brotherhood and that means we are qualified to execute you for murder.”

Killian didn’t respond, except to kick the one speaking straight in the chest. He tumbled down the stairs head over heel. In the second it took the others to register what had happened, Killian was already moving.

Spinning on the spot, he punched the one to his left in the gut, doubling them over, simultaneously kicking the one to the right in the left kneecap, forcing them forward.

Killian stepped aside and she staggered into the other one on the stairs, colliding with him. Both of them followed their colleague down the stairs in a tangle of limbs.

The one still standing had pulled a radio.

“This is Delta Five-Beta. All Vânătors to the west staircase.” She managed to spit out before he took the radio and crushed it in his hand. She drew a gun, and Killian dived over the balcony into the stairwell.

He landed next to one of the Vânătors and punched them in the face, knocking them out. As he scrambled to his feet, he ran down the stairs as bullets shredded the carpet he had laid on a second before.

Sprinting down the stairs, he ran headlong into more of them coming up. The impact scattered the group like pins, one of the ones he hadn’t knocked over drawing their gun.

Killian dropped to a knee and rolled, grabbing one of the bodies and using it as a shield, bullets riddling the human. Killian flung his knife at the one firing, hitting him square in the throat.

Hopping to his feet, he grabbed the knife back and headed for the nearby door. It brought him out in a kitchen.

Pans still boiled on the hobs, joints of meat half sliced. The kitchen staff had clearly fled like rats when the gunfire had sounded. It had been a good idea. Getting between Killian and the Vânătors was a good way to get yourself killed.

A pair of them burst in through the door he had just come through himself – Killian threw a pair of knives. The first one missed, but the second struck its target in the chest of the other man. The first man didn’t even look back, drawing his knife to stab at him.

Grabbing a saucepan of boiling water, Killian dumped the contents into his face then struck him square in the head with the pan as he screamed and flailed about. The impact was a sick clanging thud, and the man was unconscious before he even hit the floor.

More came in from the other end. Sending a volley of kitchen knives and utensils towards them, he was forced to dive aside as they opened fire with withering barrages of automatic gunfire that tore chunks from the countertops and sent pieces of debris and blinding dust into the air.

The gunfire stopped.

Killian heard the slow, methodical grind and click of magazines being ejected and replaced, and realized they would soon be upon him. Or they would, had the air not been thick with the dust thrown up, a haze of white obscuring vision past a few feet.

Sneaking around the side of the countertop, he found a small fillet knife. Standing, he took a moment to look around the kitchen. The Vânătors were advancing through the dust cloud, rifles up and ready to fire.

One was stood only a few feet away, back turned. Killian slashed his throat, already moving on before he hit the floor with a pathetic gurgling sound. Two more were down with vicious wounds before their friends realized they were dead.

By the time they had turned, aiming at Killian and preparing to fire, he had taken one of the rifles and opened fire, short bursts to the center mass to put them down, if not outright kill them.

It was an instinct long drummed into him – the head was not always a guaranteed hit. Better to aim for the bigger target and at the very least ruin their day, depending on their predication towards body armor.

By the time he had taken down half a dozen, the others were opening fire themselves, causing Killian to duck behind the countertop. The gunfire stopped and he heard them whispering amongst themselves whether they had shot him or not.

One was ordered to check, and when he poked his head around the corner, Killian shot him in the face. By the time he hit the floor Killian was on the move, heading round the other end of it and firing as he ran out of the kitchen.

Several of them were floored by the hailstorm of bullets, but others took refuge behind the counters. Killian didn’t stop to make sure, passing through the door and onto an outdoor balcony overlooking the atrium.

Stopping, he judged the distance, only for one of the Vânătors to tackle him from behind, his full moments taking both of them over the marble rail and down. In midair, Killian spun them, ensuring the Vânător hit the glass of the atrium roof first, then the hard concrete below.

As he landed on top of the human in a bone crushing impact, Killian felt his own bones judder under the stress. He rolled off the Vânător with a deep groan.

“God…dammit….” He muttered, his voice almost cracking from the agony. Kneeling, he felt a gun once again press against his head, this time accompanied by several more. If he moved, one would get him, no matter how fast he was.

“Don’t move, dumbass.” One ordered.

“I think he’s talking to you.” Killian muttered to the guy on the floor, who groaned once and fell still.

As the Vânătors held him at gunpoint, a pretty blonde woman stepped forward. She was wearing leather trousers so tight they could have been painted on, as well as a black shirt under a jacket the signature shade of cerulean that the high ranking  Brotherhood members wore. Her hair was short, and she was gazing at Killian with eyes that were wide, hazel and curious.

“Which one is this?” she asked in a Georgian accent.

“We believe he is that one who has been going around killing others of his kind.”

“And why would you do that?” she demanded of him, kneeling down to be eye to eye. Killian stayed quiet. “I asked you a question, leech.”

Killian snapped his head forward, slamming his forehead straight into her nose, breaking it and making her fall back to the floor.

As she did, he surged to his feet and drew his knife, stabbing as many of them as he could reach, using several of them as shields while he cut his way through the crowd of Vânătors.

More came into the atrium, injured and maimed from his rampage through the hotel. They were too hurt to raise guns, so they came for him hand to hand. Killian broke bones and snapped necks, using their corpses as protection from the ones still firing as he got closer.

Soon, all that was left was seven of them, who had all drawn their knives. Killian looked around at all of them, waiting to see who moved first.

Two of them attacked – Killian directed the blade of one into his colleague’s throat, then broke the arm at the elbow and punched him in the middle of the chest.

While he staggered back, Killian was assaulted from the side, a knife sliding home in the flesh of the side of his gut. Killian snarled furiously, pulled the knife free and forced it into the bottom of the man’s jaw and through his mouth.

Three attacked together, forcing him to give up ground as he backed away. As he countered or dodged their blows, he kept his eyes moving in a search for the slightest opportunity.

He found it when one nearly tripped, breaking the movement of their attacks for a moment. He took full advantage and punched the man straight on the nose, then kicked his knee out.

The other two faltered, and Killian spun on the spot, slashing both of their throats. As they fell, he took a step forward and kicked the third man in the face, snapping his head back and killing him instantly.

That left him against one, who had chosen the wiser option and picked up one of the rifles. He fired, and the first volley hit him in the chest. The rest missed, and Killian stayed put, eyes closed.

He heard the human tread closer over the broken glass, and felt him lean over. The edges of a shard of glass met Killian’s fingers as he slowly searched for a nearby weapon. As he felt the hot breath of the human on his face, Killian seized the shard and buried it in his throat.

The man fell to one side, shaking and groaning as his hands scrambled to pull the glass out, only succeeding in driving it further in. Killian ignored him and stood, brushing glass from his jacket.

As he found his knife and headed for the door, he heard the voice of the female leader, who was leaning against a wall, holding her nose.

“We’ll find you, leech. We’ll find wherever your wretched species is hiding and wipe it off the face of the earth.”

“Your people have been trying for centuries, you dumb bitch.” Killian sighed, walking out of the hotel without looking back. Outside, a blue Mercedes was waiting.

Killian snatched the keys and promptly took the car. As he screeched through the streets of the capital, he connected his phone to the car speaker and rang Elias.

“Yes?”

“Done. They won’t be producing that stuff in the capital anymore. That is one of the last. I’ll make my way to Vermont for Pine.”

“No. I want you to go to Sacramento. Hogarth may be in trouble.”

“Okay. On my way.” Killian replied and hung up, stepping on the gas and beginning the drive to the airport.

Episode 1

Her alarm clock beeped, shrill and incessant before Nora Lithgow slapped it off, knocking it off of the cabinet in the process where it clattered noisily on the floor.

“Bugger.” Nora muttered, swinging her long legs off of the bed and leaning down to pick it up.  She gazed at the time with annoyed green eyes, brushing her hair – which was as red as blood – out of her face.

It was six a.m.

The others would be up soon, as no one slept for long anymore. Standing, she padded over to the old oak wardrobe as naked as a baby, pulling it open with a creak.

The clothes inside were all basic, plain items in shades of grey and black. It was not a fashion choice, but a selection born of survival instinct. Bright colors were not a great idea since the Blight.

Once dressed, she quickly brushed her teeth and washed her face with cold water before returning to the bedroom and grabbing the pair of knives from the bedside table.

She strapped them to her hips, then opened the curtains to look out upon London. As usual, she was a little shocked to see how quickly nature had taken back the grey city.

Many of the buildings were entwined with weeds and flowers – the Shard had been crushed under the weight of the vegetation – and the River Thames was full of fish due to lack of fumes and pollution.

Liam had claimed he had seen a shark in it during a supply run. But as he had been running for his life at the time, she was loath to believe him. Glancing down, she felt a familiar pang of loss at seeing the deserted streets.

Her door was knocked on, then opened without a call for them to enter. She glanced over her shoulder to see her second, Liam Terrance.

He was average looking, slim but wiry with the lean, toned muscles that military service drummed into its soldiers. It was the same frame she had, having been a member of SCO19.

Both of them had been in a joint unit training day when everything went to hell, and he had stuck by her side after they had been two of only three to make it out of the South Downs park. The third had died on the way to London.

They had been in the capital ever since, which was strategically a dumb move, but there were plenty of places to hide.

“It never gets prettier, does it?” he asked, getting a sad smile.

“No. You’d think with the animals and plants being back in charge it would be, but it’s still as grey as hell out there.” She muttered, turning away from the window and heading out of the room.

“Geller wants me to take you upstairs. He said there is something you need to see.”

Nora frowned, as the lookouts only had one purpose on being up so high. She followed him up to the top of the building. It was one of the tallest tower blocks in the city, high enough to see any threat coming a long time before it became one.

Six months had passed since the Blight had taken its full effect. Everyone had fled the major cities, all of their possessions left behind as they ran with nothing but their loved ones.

Geller was looking South, out across St. Paul’s and the Houses of Parliament. He was armed – like all of the Runners and the Security team – with weapons poached from police stations and army barracks.

“What do you see Geller?” she asked. Without looking up from his scope, he handed her a pair of binoculars and pointed towards St. Paul’s. Nora took them without a word and looked out over the city.

She immediately saw what troubled him, and it sent a shiver of dread down her spine. “Jesus… how many are there down there?”

“I’d wager about three, four hundred.”

“Shit. There’s no way we can send any Runners out there today.”

“Not since they’re coming this way, no.” Geller replied, and Nora frowned at him. Geller pointed back at the horde that she had seen. She took a closer look and – with a very strong shiver – saw their general direction.

Attempting to seem nonchalant, she shrugged.

“We have plenty of precautions in place if they come this way.” She told them. As if to prove her point, she saw one of the Biters down in the street almost in range of a defensive snare. “Look.” She nudged the other two.

Together they watched the Biter shuffle into the wire that was lying in the street. Almost immediately a nail gun attached to the wire blasted a nail into the skull of the Biter, instantly piercing the brain and killing it stone dead.

“See? We have plenty of traps set up, and we can always find a better building.” Nora told them. The two men shared a glance but didn’t argue.

“Why would they be coming this way?” Geller asked. “There is nothing up here.”

“We are. Maybe it’s the body heat or the smell, but they are heading for us because they have found food that hasn’t run away.”

“Not yet.” Liam shrugged.

“We can’t let that stop us from doing our daily routines. Liam, take a couple of rookies and make a run to the hospital the other side of town. We need some more antibiotics.”

“Will do. I’ll take the twins, too.”

Nora nodded and followed Liam down the staircase, her eyes on the back of his head as she felt the usual pang of indecision at sending him out.

Oscar and Jeremiah Bainbridge were wilderness hunters, trained at tracking and survival skills from a young age.

Nora felt a lot better knowing they were going with Liam, as there was a better and slightly bigger chance that he would make it back alive.

She followed him down to the foyer after they called some of the newer survivors to join them, as well as the two Bainbridge brothers.

“Right, listen up.” Liam said once they were all gathered, his tone making it clear he was in no mood to argue. “We are heading across town to the hospital, which should hopefully be empty.”

“Yeah. That part of town was one of the first evacuated. It should be safe enough to get in and out.” Oscar nodded.

“If we cut through Whitechapel, past the Gherkin and take the back streets, we could be back before dinner.” Jeremiah added.

“Good. Liam, can I have a word with you and the twins before you go?”

“Sure. You lot go and wait outside for us, and stay quiet.” Liam instructed, and the new recruits filed out in silence, unwilling to argue. “What’s the problem, Nora?”

“There are two things. First, Liam saw it upstairs, but I’m telling you two. There is a herd of Biters headed this way. It will take a while for them to get here, but the herd could attract more of them.”

“Yeah. But we’re taking most of the back alleys, so we should be fine. And on the plus side, if those rookies piss me off, I can always leave one as a buffet for the Biters and run for it.” Liam said in a tone that left Nora momentarily wondering if he was joking.

Then he winked and she breathed a silent sigh of relief.

“The second thing is, there is someone in London. At least, I think he is. He’s been  killing both Biters and Runners. So I am changing the protocol. No rescuing people unless it is absolutely necessary.”

“But we need to find as many people as we can. The more survivors we find, the more chance we can fend off Biters if they attack this place.” Jeremiah pointed out.

“There are a lot of people out there that we need to be careful of. Not every one that is still alive is going to want to play nice, Jay. Take the Shadow Man for example.”

“The Shadow Man?”

“It’s what the kids have been calling him since they heard about him. They called him it because no one has ever seen his face and that we haven’t managed to catch him if we see him.”

“As good a name as any. We’ll try to get back in one piece. And we’ll keep an eye out for the ‘Shadow Man’.” Liam mocked, his hands drawing air quotes before he strode off out of the front door.

The Bainbridge twins rolled their eyes before they followed him out. Nora watched them go, her eyes fixed on Liam’s receding figure until the barricades were put back in place.

Biting her lip, she headed back up the stairs to begin her daily routines, starting with lessons for the children.

Intro

On the 13th October, 2025, a virus spilled from the confines of its laboratory and into the world.

Quickly changing from tactile to airborne, it rapidly proliferated across the globe, leaving billions choking to death as it ravaged their bodies.

The earth stank of death and decay, wildlife and nature reclaiming what was once taken from them.

Then, amidst the rustle of plants and calls of the wild, a new sound emerged.

Slowly, surely, the pained groans and hungered snarls of the newly revived dead filled the air.

It’s a new world, and it doesn’t belong to the living…

A Light in the Dark

The stress of the argument had worn off eventually, and Fenella had calmed enough to fall asleep. I gazed down at her, curious as to what I could do to take away the sorrow that was ever present.

She hid it, or tried to, but it was always there, behind the sparkle of humor or the shine of childlike glee at new experiences. Sadness was in her heart, and it would leech away until she was unable to feel anything but that crushing grief.

The humans… the ones who locked her away… perhaps retribution will lift her spirits. But where to start?

Sliding slowly out of the bed, I left her to slumber as I stepped out onto the balcony, gazing out at the city. Leaning on the railing, I let the frigid air wash over me.

Daniel might know… or Tessa… 

I shuddered. I couldn’t bring Tessa into this, not with the mind games she would play with Fen. Fenella was learning quickly, that was true, but Tessa was far more skilled at manipulation, and I didn’t want that.

Daniel it is… I sighed.

Retrieving my phone from the table inside, I scrolled through the contacts. Finding his name, I hit the small green button and waited. On the second ring, it was picked up.

“Angel. A bit late, isn’t it?”

“It is. But I have a rather important favour to ask of you.”

“Of course. Anything.” Daniel’s gruff yet weary tones quickly replied.

“I need you to keep an ear to the ground for a certain set of people. No matter how small the news, or how trivial you think it might be, I need as much information from your contacts as you can get.”

“You want me to spy on my associates?”

“No. Not spy. Just report back certain and necessary information.”

“Angel…” 

“You owe me, Daniel. If it hadn’t been for me, you would be a corpse long since rotted in the streets of Milan. Besides, this is not for my benefit.”

“It isn’t?”

“No. It is for someone far more important and better than myself. Someone who will need this to make amends to their past.”

There was no answer for a moment.

“Okay. Who am I looking for?” He finally sighed again. I told him, and his surprise was evident as he spoke. “Really? A bit unusual for you…”

“I know. I don’t usually go looking for them. But this is important, and it needs to be done, Daniel. You have a chance to give a person very dear to me a new lease on life by breaking the darkness of her old one.”

“Her? I get it now…”

“Good. Remember, no matter what you hear, no matter how vague, if it is connected, I want to hear it.”

“You’ve got it. In fact… oh, goddamit, where did I put it?” I heard papers being flung around and drawers slamming before he came back on. “My secretary wrote this a few days ago. A man came in wanting an odd list of items.”

“Such as?”

“He wanted steel containers made. Five foot by three foot.”

I understood his tone of disgust immediately, and fought off the snarl of anger. “Who asked for it?”

A name and a town passed his lips, and I bid him a goodnight before hanging up. The fury and hatred for the ones who had left Fenella a broken shell still pulsed in my veins, even without an actual heartbeat to fuel it.

But now, I had a name, and a place to start,a small smile crossing my face as I tried to let the cold air wash away the burn of rage.

Soft footsteps padded behind me, and I glanced back to see Fen’s gorgeous frame wrapped in nothing but a bedsheet, her innocent face and beautiful eyes filled with concern.

“My love… I woke and you weren’t there…”

“I know. I had a phone call I needed to make and I didn’t want to wake you. Not after what happened.”

“Did you get what you needed?”

I thought of the name and address that held the promise of vengeance and peace for her and smiled warmly.

Crossing to her, I kissed her nose, then her lips.

“I did.”

“Then come back to bed.”

Wordlessly, I took her outstretched hand and let myself be led back to the bedroom, soon falling asleep with her in my arms.

The Scourge of the Eternal Forest

Stepping out of a redwood, Cernunnos watched the pack of wolves playing from his perch on the rocks above.
Had it been a mortal intruding on them, they would have torn the fool to shreds, but they knew Cernunnos was no threat to them, instead keeping them safe from the rapacious greed of mortals.
The alpha of the pack padded slowly up to him, sniffing his leg. Cernunnos reached out a thin finger and scratched her behind the ears.
After whining happily, the wolf licked his cheek and scampered off, rejoining her pack in time to separate two little ones that were being a little too rough.
Casting his gaze across the Forest, a small smile contorted his face. The Eternal Forest stretched for miles, covering almost two thirds of the land that the Dagda’s Kingdom sat upon.
Cernunnos was the only ruler of the Forest, and the other Gods knew it. Even Zeus and Odin kept their voices low and quiet in the shadow of it.
But should war come to Tir Na Nog, the invaders would not hesitate to bring strife to the Forest as well.
Both of the grey haired mud Kings would want complete control of the land, something they would never get.
If they set foot in the Eternal Forest with an intent for war, they would learn just how much damage nature could do.
The smile vanished. Heading further along the mountain trail, Cernunnos heard a sound he recognized but rarely experienced.
Taking a quicker route down the mountain via several trees, he found the source of the noise and a puzzled concern made him frown.
A small bear cub was calling out for its mother. The cries were pained, full of hunger and confusion.
Cernunnos moved closer, and the cub fixed him with a curious glare, a warning to him not to come any nearer.
“I am not a threat, little one…” he told it, moving slowly nearer to it. When he was just close enough for the cub to pounce on him, he reached out and offered an arm.
The cub sniffed him, then began to cry out for its mother again. Cernunnos took a slow look through the trees.
The mother would not have gone far, and should have come back by now. For her to be ignoring her child’s cries was not behavior a mother bear had.
Unless she can’t come back… Cernunnos realized. Gently stroking the head of the cub, Cernunnos got its attention.
“I shall find your mother, little one. Calm yourself. She will be back soon.” He softly promised, the cub slowly falling silent.
Summoning a small rabbit to come a little closer, Cernunnos grabbed it and snapped its neck, giving it to the bear.
He deplored doing so, but he kept the natural balance as much as possible, and a starving animal was always something he felt needed to be rectified.
Leaving the bear happily snacking on the rabbit, Cernunnos followed the trail of the mother through the trees.
Her heavy tread had left defined prints in the earth, her paws carving firm indents into the mud, the spacing indicating she had been moving fast.
The trail wound across rivers and through clearings, trees knocked aside or felled along the way.
As the miles passed, Cernunnos began to wonder why the mother was so far away from her child. There was no plausible or possible reason for it.
Until he saw the body.
It was lying at the base of an oak, gut split open, innards all over its legs and the dirt, eyes wide open in the last fearful moments of its life.
The stench of the desert was all over the man. He was from the east, from the desert on the far side of Deireadh.
Cernunnos was suddenly aware of growls and roars coming from a little further on, and that the smell was thick in the air.
Hurrying on, Cernunnos finally found the bear and immediately felt outrage flare. It was surrounded by mortals, who were taking turns jabbing and swiping at it with axes and spears.
They were laughing.
Raising his hand, Cernunnos waited. In a matter of moments, a dozen Spriggans were beside him, all looking expectantly at him.
Without a word, he pointed at the mortals, who had no clue that a very aggravated King and a dozen deadly forest demons were about to strike.
The Spriggans surged forward, flitting in and out of trees as they closed the distance with terrifying speed. Cernunnos watched, not caring if the Spriggans used lethal force.
The first mortal looked up to see them, just in time to have one of them take his head off with a swipe of its claw. Blood sprayed, and the body fell, but the Spriggan was already on the move.
The air was soon thick with the sound of the mortals yelling as they tried to fend off the Spriggans, but they were outmatched.
Their foes slipped in and out of the trees, picking off the mortals one by one, until the last one took the smarter choice and fled for his life.
Cernunnos called the Spriggans back, not bothered with a coward who had the brains to flee.
Moving to kneel next to the bear, he checked on its wounds, then leaned down and whispered. “Go, my dear friend. Your child needs you.”
The bear didn’t hesitate, thundering off into the forest back the way Cernunnos had come. By the time its furry hide had vanished, his attention was on the direction the mortal had gone.
The subjects of Isis didn’t usually come across Deireadh, which made him wonder about their purpose being so far west.
Isis was a friendly Goddess towards him, her fondness for animals something they shared, just as Amaterasu did.
Isis had often come to the Eternal Forest to wander with him and play with the animals, a wide smile on her face. She was aware that he did not suffer mortals in his domain.
So why are they here?
Slowly pursuing the mortal, Cernunnos kept his eyes on the earth, following him by his panicked footfalls. Isis would have a lot to answer for, if there were more of them in the Forest.
As he walked, the lack of wildlife became more pronounced, until he was the only being for what seemed like miles.
Cernunnos grew more angry with every step, as all mortals and Gods knew that the forest was predominantly for animals.
If the wildlife was being forced elsewhere, he was not going to let it stand, not without forcing the mortals out.
Shouts were being carried on the wind, as were the sounds of weapons clashing and fires crackling.
His blood boiled.
Isis… what have you done…
Moving into what appeared to be a wide clearing, Cernunnos stopped as the full extent of what he was seeing became clear.
What he had thought was a clearing was a large expanse of forest that had been chopped down, other parts of it burnt to cinders by the mortals that had set up camp further across the way.
For several minutes, Cernunnos stood still, his mind struggling to comprehend just how badly the mortals had devastated his home.
Then the rage set in.
This will not stand. I have allowed the mortals and mud Kings too much leniency in my home. First these… then the Dagda will answer for his sins.
Inhaling as deeply as he could, Cernunnos let his anger and grief fill his lungs, his fury scouring his heart.
Then he raised his head to the skies and let out an almighty screech. It was an horrific sound, a combination of animal calls, the languages of the unnatural denizens of the forest and pure wrath.
It struck fear in the mortals, causing them to look around for the source of it. It was as if the forest had come alive and cursed them itself for their crimes.
Cernunnos held the scream for as long as his lungs allowed it, then stood and waited, not moving even as the mortals saw him and advanced on him.
He lost count of their numbers, hundreds upon hundreds of them as far as he could see, and all armed to the teeth – an army had come to his lands.
Their weapons were raised, their intent to strike him down clear. But not one of them had wondered why he had drawn attention to himself so thoroughly.
“What is that?” one of them asked in the desert tongue.
“It’s that supposed Forest King.”
“Do we kill it?”
“Of course. We burned down the forest. If we don’t, it’ll kill us.”
Then the ground began to rumble.
It started as a minor tremble, unnoticed by all but Cernunnos, who could feel it due to being so attuned to the nuances of the earth.
It grew in magnitude, becoming more and more forceful by the second until it shook the trees, the mortals once more looking around in terror.
From behind him, Cernunnos heard the response to his call, rustling and snapping sounding over and over as countless shapes passed through the forest.
They burst out of the tree line, swarming around him like water around a rock in a river, heading right for the mortals.
The sheer number of creatures that came pouring forth surprised even him. He knew the forest had been teeming with all kinds, but it was a shock to see all of them united in one cause.
Murder.
Bears, Spriggans, wolves, deer, dryads and acromantula – all of them set upon the invaders, showing no mercy as they protected their home.
Cernunnos was about to join the battle, when a pair of Giants came lumbering out of the forest, wielding stone clubs the size of small trees.
He had been unaware that Giants lived in the Eternal Forest, having not seen them in almost three centuries. There was a patch of it in the west that animals stayed away from, but that was for another reason entirely.
A reason that suddenly flew low over the treetops and sprayed fire in front of the mortals, blocking off their retreat.
Cernunnos watched the dragon, a majestic and colossal bronze and green creature take off into the sky, then come back to incinerate swathes of the mortal army.
With a furious bellow, Cernunnos joined the fray, no weapon necessary as he used the sharp talons he possessed to eviscerate those who fell in his path.
His fellow Forest dwellers were being as bloodthirsty and savage as he was – deers were goring their targets with their antlers, the wolves and bears mauling and devouring their foes.
The Spriggans – far more than the dozen he had summoned against the ones attacking the bear – were darting through the crowd, their speed and ferocity almost unmatched.
The Giants were devastating, either simply stepping on the mortals and crushing them into bloody stains, or sending them hurtling through the air with swings of their clubs.
The mortal army rapidly dwindled, their numbers culled faster than they could have anticipated.
They had been ready to tackle him alone, but having an entire forest come forth to challenge them had clearly been the last thing they had expected.
The immense fire the dragon had used was far too hot to make an escape through, so they were forced to stand and fight.
One of the mortals rallied his allies and made a break for the forest itself, their sudden charge forcing the animals aside in surprise, giving them enough time to enter the trees.
Cernunnos gestured for the animals and the giants to remain, and summoned the army of Spriggans to follow him.
Moving far quicker than the mortals as they slipped from tree to tree, culling mortals that fell behind, their screams evidence that there was one less coward fleeing for their lives.
Cernunnos kept ahead of the mortals, his Spriggans deftly and brutally thinning the herd as they began to climb the mountain.
More and more were picked off as they ascended, leaving only one to make it to the top, where he ran right into Cernunnos.
Flooring the mortal, Cernunnos pinned him down and held a sharp talon to his neck, the eyes of the mortal panicked as he saw the Spriggans surround them.
“Why did you burn my forest?”
“We needed firewood.”
“Why were you here in the first place?”
“Our King exiled us. He told us to flee or die, and we crossed Deireadh. We thought it was a different forest…”
Cernunnos snarled. Osiris was responsible, not Isis, but it truly mattered little.
Slitting the mortal’s throat, he sent the Spriggans off to resume their duties, his gaze looking across Deireadh to the edge of the desert.
The Duat King had overstepped his mark, sending his mortals to the Eternal Forest. He had most likely intended they make a living in the sparse landscape of Deireadh, but it had been his order that had resulted in the battle that had taken place.
Seething, Cernunnos began the journey to Tir Na Nog, intent on making the Dagda see that peace was no longer an option.
The time for war had begun

A Taste of Carnage

Fenella looked up at me with a curious smile on her beautiful face, absentmindedly scratching the dog under the chin.

“Yes, my love.”

“How would you like an early dinner and a chance to test what you have just learned?”

An evil grin lit up her eyes.

“Sounds lovely. Where?”

Taking her hand, I took us to a small side street in the centre of London, just out of sight of the main roads. It was a place I visited more than most others.

“Where are we, my love?”

“London.” I replied briskly, knocking on a nearby grey steel door. To my consternation, it swung open, whereas it was usually shut and locked.

Stepping inside, Fen right behind me, we made our way slowly down the sterile white halls, coming to a front desk. I could hear crashing from the storage rooms further back, but a frantic heartbeat behind the desk drew my attention.

Leaning over it, I frowned. Duncan was curled up in a foetal ball, shivering and bruised. His glasses were crushed to pieces and blood spattered his coat.

“Duncan, what happened?” I coaxed gently.

Slowly, as if he didn’t believe it was me talking to him, he looked up to see Fen and myself looking down at him. His eyes met Fen’s and his heart rate accelerated.

Whether it was the knowledge that her being with me most likely meant he was staring at two vampires, not one, or whether it was seeing a beautiful woman smiling at him, I was unsure.

“This is Fenella. Duncan, what happened?” I asked again.

“They caught me as I was closing for the night. I had the back door open for a moment to bring a delivery in and they jumped me.”

“Is that them in the storage room?” Fen muttered, craning her neck to see down the hall. Duncan nodded.

“Were they armed?”

“One of them had a baton, I think. But no, no guns or knives.”

“Then they’re all yours, my love.” I smiled at Fen, whose eyes widened in shock for a moment before that devious grin appeared.

“Do I kill them?”

“If you feel like it. Just try not to make a mess. Do you want me with you?”

“No. Yes. No… can you back me up, just in case I screw up?” She looked a little ashamed of herself for saying it.

“Of course. And don’t be ashamed. You won’t screw up. Remember, you’re faster and stronger. They won’t touch you unless you want them to. No one ever will again.”

A brief flash of that beautiful shy smile was there for an instant, but it was quickly replaced by grim determination.

I kept in step just behind her as we headed for the storage room. The prospect of a fight seemed to have given her a spring in her step, which was a good thing.

She was going to need it.

As we arrived at the storage room, Fenella paused and glanced back at me. “He said one of them was armed.”

“Yes. The same still applies. Catch his hand at the wrist, then throw him as you did me, but make sure you keep him down once he is on the floor.”

“Oh, okay.” She nodded, and pushed the door open, which promptly fell off of its hinges. Both of us stared at it, and Fen let out a small, squeaky “oops.”

Then, as one, we looked up to see three middle aged men glaring at us. They were in the process of ransacking the shelves, although they had left the majority of the blood in the fridges.

“Who the fuck are you?” The one in the middle snapped, the police baton in his left hand.

“I’m the one telling you to drop everything and get out.”

“Or what, Lady?”

“Or I’m going to kill all three of you.” She replied confidently. I stepped back into the corridor, smiling softly in pride.

“I don’t think so. See, I think we’re going to have our fun with you, then we’re going to finish what we came for. And if you don’t struggle and be a good girl, we might let you live.”

I winced. That had been the worst thing they could have said to her. I could almost hear Fen’s train of thought.

First would come the memories of her past, and then would come the volcanic fury. As it turned out, I was wrong. At least, at first.

“I’m giving you one last chance. Leave, now, and you get to live.”

“Boys, grab the bitch.” Came the response.

Which was met with silence for a moment, before there was the sound of Fen screaming in unearthly rage. Sticking my head around the doorway, I watched, mesmerized, as Fen dispatched the two idiots.

The first one received a perfect, almost invisible right hook to the nose that took his jaw almost off of his face, sending him into one of the glass units.

The second, lost in the momentary disbelief of his friend being so easily taken down, looked back at Fen, the color draining from his face before Fen drained it from the rest of him. She sank her fangs deep in his throat and drank him dry.

The one with the baton stared at her, horrified. “What the fuck are you, lady?”

The answer was a sibilant hiss.

“Hungry, is what I am.”

Charging forward, he raised the baton and brought it down with a vicious swing. It would have caved in her skull, had she been a normal human. At the very least, it would have knocked her out.

But Fen was not a human, which meant when she caught the wrist in mid-air, all he could do was scream as she snapped the bone, then gasp painfully as she flung him over her shoulder to the floor. Then, as if to punctuate how effortless it had been for her, Fen stamped on his head.

For a moment, I saw what she had feared. I saw the animal she had been worried about unleashing on people. Oddly enough, it also made me proud. She had taken on three men in her first fight and won.

“I thought I asked you not to make a mess, my love.” I remarked from the doorway.

Fen stared at me, eyes still red, her face twisted in a feral snarl. Then, as she looked around the room at the damage she had caused, the red faded away, and a look of utter mortified horror flooded her face as she fell to her knees.

“What have I done….”

Instantly, I was by her side, cradling her in my arms. She wept openly into my chest, sobbing uncontrollably. All I could do was make soft shushing noises.

“Fen, my love, its okay. They would have killed you, if you hadn’t killed them.”

“I didn’t mean to be so angry. But he said… and I… I didn’t mean to do this.”

Sighing softly, I called for Duncan, who came running in. He stopped in the doorway, the same look of horror in his eyes.

“What happened in here?” He asked, his voice a soft whisper.

“We solved your intruder problem. Me and Fen are leaving. I’ll send someone along to help tidy everything up. Goodbye, Duncan.”

And with that, I had moved us back to the gardens of Brechin, where Yoru and Eechee came sprinting up to us to smother us in licks and nips.

They seemed to sense Fen’s discomfort, as they all but ignored me. Their presence, however, did serve to calm her down, and she turned her attention on them, if only to get them to stop jumping on her.

“Fen, it’s okay.” I said again after the tears had stopped flowing.

“I know… I just wasn’t expecting to lose my control so quickly. But when he said they were going to…” she took a deep, shuddering breath. “I just lost it. I won’t let anyone do that again, Angel. Never again.”

“I know. It never will.”

Giving me one of those beautiful, tender smiles, she kissed the dogs on the noses and shooed them away. Then she let out a giant yawn.

“Tired?”

“It has been a long day. With the training this morning, and my outburst in London… I feel wiped out.”

I looked at the sky, where the dark blue of the night was closing in quickly. Looking back at Fen, I nodded.

“Let’s get you to bed, shall we?” I smiled. Lifting her into my arms, I carried her into the house, and sat her on the bed. As I turned away to get some pyjamas for her, I heard soft snoring.

Glancing back, I saw that Fen had fallen asleep, which made me smile. She had clearly been spot on about how tired she was, and seeing her asleep at peace made me smile a little wider.

“Goodnight, my love.” I whispered, kissing her on the forehead. As I slid my tie off, my phone buzzed, then buzzed again. Slipping it from my pocket, I answered the call.

“Hello. Yes, Duncan? Wait, they did WHAT? They were seen? By who? I’m on my way.”

Putting my phone in my jacket, I turned to wake Fen up, but she looked so peaceful that I didn’t have the heart to wake her. With one last gaze at her untroubled face, I disappeared, headed back to London.

Lessons

Watching the sunset was something I used to do quite a bit, but I was still a little unused to doing so with Fen beside me.

Turning away from the beautiful sight outside, I gazed down at something even more beautiful – she was so peaceful and untroubled when she slept, I didn’t have the heart to wake her.

Unfortunately, my gaze seemed to do just that, as if she felt it. Shifting, she opened her eyes and peered sleepily up at me.

“Morning, my love. Been up long?” She stretched and let out a little noise as she did so.

The noise made me shiver, but I pulled her closer and helped her snuggle up. “Long enough that I have watched the sun come past the horizon.”

A small frown crossed her face. “You should have woken me. We could have watched it together.”

“Next time, I shall. But you needed your sleep, Fen. We have a rough day ahead of us.” I kissed her forehead.

“Oh, right, training.” Her forehead creased at the prospect. “I’m ready when you are.” She said as she flung the covers back and placed her feed on the floor.

“As much as I enjoy the sight of you in your pyjamas, my love, perhaps you should dress a little more appropriately.” I chuckled as I got out of bed and pulled on a loose shirt along with comfortable trousers.

She laughed, shaking her head, “True, but if I’m going to thrown around today, I want to at least be comfortable.” She walked over to her bureau and slipped into a tshirt and jeans. “Better?”

“You look beautiful in everything you wear, my dear. But yes, apart from the jeans. They will constrict you a little.” I told her after pulling her into an embrace and a soft kiss.

Smiling into the kiss she muttered, “Then what do you suggest, my love?”

Several answers crossed my mind, and a small grin lit up my face, but instead of what I had in mind, I reached past her and pulled out a pair of trousers similar to mine. “These will do. They are loose enough.”

Nodding, she took the trousers and changed quickly into them. “Okay, ready. Where do we begin?”

Giving her a quick squeeze, I led the way into the gardens, hand in hand with her, until we were in the middle of one of the fields.

“This is far enough. I think the first thing to do… punch me.”

“Punch you? Angel, I don’t want to hurt you.” She shook her head, crossing her arms in defiance.

“Fen, it is unlikely you will hurt me. And I am asking you to hit me. I need to know whether you need to learn to throw a punch properly, so do as I ask and hit me as hard as you can.”

She sighed, dropped her arms and shook them out, glaring at me. Drawing her arm back she threw a wide right hook, thumb tucked and made contact with my chest, sending me a few steps back.

“That wasn’t bad. Don’t draw your arm back that far, but it was a solid blow. We will be fine as far as that goes. Now, if you are okay, I think learning to throw someone will be a good idea.”

Her eyes sparkled, “Now that sounds like fun.” She chuckled.

I laughed myself at the mischief and eager glee in her eyes. “Do you need to be shown, or do you have an idea on how to do this?”

“It’s about getting under them and using their own momentum, right? I’ve seen it in movies.”

“Basically, yes. Anyone can be taken off of their feet, provided you get enough leverage to bring them over. You are faster and stronger, so you will encounter few people who can actively counter you if you move quick enough. But do you know how to actually do so?”

Shaking her head she looked at me, “Not really. Just the concept from the television.”

“Very well.” I nodded.

Stepping closer, I took hold of her wrist, and walked her through the process of throwing an adversary – it was a simple thing, getting in close and using their own weight to bring them up and over the back.

I didn’t actually throw her, but stepped away from her. “Understand?”

She inclined her head thoughtfully, taking in the instructions. “I assume you want me to try now?”

“Yes. Or do I need to walk you through it again first?” I asked kindly.

“Maybe one more time?”

I nodded politely and once again walked her through it, this time bringing her off of her feet a little and eliciting a squeal of shock from her before I stepped back.

“Is that okay?”

She nodded, “Yeah, I mean, you could have actually thrown me. You know I’m not fragile, right?”

I bit back the thought that she was fragile, but instead nodded. “Why would I throw you? This is about teaching you to throw people, not about getting thrown.”

“Yeah, okay. I just didn’t want you to think you had to treat me like fine china or something. I’ve been thrown around my entire life. I can take it.” She shrugged nonchalantly.

Without saying a word, I stepped forward, and quickly threw her, all the air driving out of her as she landed with a thump. Before I could check on her, Yoru and Eechee were between us, growling as they knocked me to the floor.

“What the-? What is the matter with you two?” I asked, puzzled, but they stayed put. “Fen, are you okay?”

Brushing herself off and laughing at the dogs she stood there watching them. “Guess we know who they love and want to protect.” She walked over to me and reached for my hand, shooing the pups back as she approached.

The dogs padded off, but stayed a few feet away, still gazing at me warily. “I think we do, and I am glad of it. That makes three of us.”

Smiling back at me, her hand still gripping my wrist from where she helped me to my feet, she smirked, slipped a foot between mine and yanked me over her shoulder in one move. The dogs jumped again and growled at me. 

Chuckling, I scratched their chins. “She is not in danger, you daft furballs. Fen, will you tell them you are okay?”

Kneeling in front of them she grinned and ruffled their fur. “I’m fine you silly things. I can handle myself. Now go play, silly.”

As they wandered off, chasing each other into the forest, I pulled myself to my feet and smiled. “That was a good throw. I wasn’t actually expecting it.” Brushing myself off, I stretched. Fen had such a proud smile on her face that I pulled her into a deep kiss. “Well done.”

“I know you weren’t expecting it. That’s why it worked.” She smirked. “Now when they are expecting it in a fight, I may not be as lucky.”

“That is the thing – no one ever expects to be thrown in a fight. Humans tend to focus on being hit with strikes, or striking their opponent, so a throw can get them off balance more than you think. Aim to catch a punch they throw – you will be fast enough – and use that momentum to catch them off guard.”

“Gotcha, that makes sense.” She placed a hand on her forehead and staggered a bit. “Whoa…”

Flashing forward, I caught her as she almost fell over, holding her steady and looking in her eyes. “You didn’t eat before we came out, did you?”

Shaking her head she gazed up at me, “Not for a while, that I recall.”

Nodding, I slowly aided her up to her feet, held her steady and pulled my shirt aside to expose my neck. “Eat. Now.” I said calmly and quietly.

Running her fingers gently into my hair, she exposed her fangs and bit gently onto my neck, feeding in deep, slow pulls. A small moan escaped her lips as she fed, her skin returning to its normal colour.

Leaning back, I studied her. “Better?”

She licked her lips and nodded. “Much.”

“Good.”

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Walk so fast. The way you got here and caught me.”

“Ah, that… okay. Truth be told, each of us is turned with a unique gift, one of three. We can learn the other two, but it takes years. I know two, not three, but it took me a few decades to learn the second.”

“A gift?” She frowned.

“An ability that we possess that few others can. I am going to show you right now which is yours.”

“Is mine seeing through your bull shit?” Fen asked, her eyebrows raised, chuckling.

“No.” I laughed too. “That is just love.” I added as I kissed her forehead. “I already used one just now.”

“Oh, yeah. The fast moving thing?”

“Yes. That is the one I taught myself. I have a different inherent gift, but hopefully I won’t have to use it around you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I have the ability to compel people. But in any case, are you ready to find out which one you have? I am curious, I admit.”

She nodded and muttered, “Mhmm.”

Taking a few steps back, I took a deep breath. “Right. Come and stand here, facing the house.”

She followed me, standing where I instructed her to.

“Right. Head for the house, but focus all of your energy on that first step, eyes on where you want to go. Don’t think about trying to move that fast, just let instinct propel you forward.”

“Sort of like the teleporting? Think about where I want to be?”

“Yes. But keep your eyes on your target, as this is more a short distance thing. Like this…” I flashed forwards and stared at her from the back patio of the house.

She cocked her head to the side, looking at me from the garden. I winked back. She looked down at her feet with a frown of reluctance, then back up at me, where I gave her a huge smile of encouragement.

She took a step to move quickly but trip after only a few steps, falling forward. Flashing back to her, I catch her before she hits the ground.

Frustrated, she looks up at me and grumbles out a, “thanks.”

“Anytime.” I nodded, helping her stand and relishing her soft, beautiful body in my arms. “Your gift is not that one then…”

My smile and concern melted her frustration as she smiled back at me sheepishly, “guess not.”

“Not to worry.” I kissed her forehead, “Now we will try the fun one.”

A look of mischievousness flash across her face, “That could have been fun,” she laughed, “But if you say so, let’s do it.”

“This one is a very rare but very fun one. It is the one I don’t have. The ability to connect with lower forms.”

“Lower forms?”

“Animals. Go and wait on the patio for me, please.” I nodded, then left her in the field to search in the forest. Finding what I was looking for, I returned to her to find her sitting at the table outside.

I placed my hand on the table, but didn’t let go of what was in it. “Ready?”

“To do what?”

Opening my hand a little, I let her see the face of the mouse that was gently trapped in my grip. “Can you see the eyes?”

Fen nodded.

“Focus on them. Keep telling the mouse that you are a friend. That you mean no harm to it at all. Try and build a connection.”

“He’s a mouse…how can he even understand me?”

“If it has a brain, you can connect with it. Like the telepathy between us.”

“So thoughts, yes? That’s what I was going to say.” She looked at the mouse, leaning forward, staring back at the mouse.

In my hand, I could feel the mouse begin to stop shaking, its nervous trembling fading as Fen built a mental link with the poor thing.

(thinks to the mouse, images of being warm and full at my hands)

The trembling stopped altogether, and I realized she had succeeded. It was still alive, that much was clear by the rapid heartbeat against my palm, but it was no longer afraid of us. “Are you ready?” Her eyes were still on the mouse as she nodded.

With the slightest hesitation, I opened my hand and released the mouse, leaving it standing calmly and bravely in the middle of the table. “Call it to you, if you can.”

She sat her hand down at the edge of the table, palm up and stared at it. The mouse wiggles his nose and whiskers a little then ran into her hand. I smiled widely, watching proudly as the tiny rodent made itself at home.

She sat up with the mouse on her hand, petting it as it settled down in her palm, closing his eyes

“You have the rare one, Fen. This is amazing. Just wait until we try with bigger animals.”

She glanced at me sheepishly, “I think I already have. When you first introduced me to Yoru and Eechee, I think they told me their names, Angel.”

“You think they told you? Did you hear anything when you were with them? Like an echo in your mind, or what felt like someone whispering to you?”

“Sort of, but it was much clearer. Like when you and I speak telepathically.”

“That was the gift, yes. You can do it with any animal, provided you can keep eye contact with it for long enough.” I grinned, pulling her into a tight hug.

Tilting her head she looked up at me, returning the smile. “But Angel, I don’t have to be looking at the pups to hear them…”

“That is because they trust you, they know you mean no harm. They aren’t suspicious of you so they don’t hide their thoughts. Animals are smarter than humans think.” I shrugged, watching the two dogs come thundering up the fields to us.

Leaving my embrace, she knelt down and snuggled each of them. I watched with pride as my phone buzzed in my pocket. Pulling it out, I glanced away from my love to see it was a text from Duncan:

In trouble. Need help.
Come quick.

Snarling a little, I put my phone away. “Fen, my dear?” I asked, and she looked up, puzzled at the anger in my voice. “How would you like an early lunch?”

New Additions

“The hunt begins. You will have your revenge. I promise you that.” I took Fen in my embrace and kissed her deeply once again.

She broke the kiss and gazed into my eyes. “Are you afraid?”

”Of what?” I frowned at her, bewildered.

“My beast?” she replied, averting her eyes as she did so.

Sitting up, I wrapped my arms around her and looking her in the eyes with a smile. “No.”

“We haven’t even seen her yet. What if neither of us can control it and we lose ourselves? What if we hurt innocents? What if…  I want them DEAD but at what cost?”

“Ella, you are forgetting one thing.”

“I am?”

“Yes. Your beast is not alone.”

“I know that. That’s kind of my point. What if we both lose control?” she muttered.

“Good,” I shrugged.

Her face fell. “Good? And the innocent?”

“There will be no innocents. Because we do this my way. Or we do not do it.”

“And what way is that?”

I looked back at me, making sure she was looking in my eyes. “We find them. We make damn sure it is them. Then we tear their world down around them. And make them see something this world has forgotten.” I snarled 

“That we are the predators and they are the prey?”

“Not only that…we make them see that monsters are very real. And that the past is a bad place to leave behind something that can kill you.”

Her lips turn up in a smirk. “I like that idea very much.”

As I smiled, I paused for a moment, then, in a quieter voice, I added. “I do have one last thing to ask of you.”

“Yes, my love?”

“After all this is done, regardless of the death in our wake…we make our vows right here…in our home…”

As she pulled me in for a deep kiss, a single word left her mouth and made me smile even wider. “Promise.”

Forehead to forehead, a contented sigh left me, moments before she spoke.

“I’m sorry, my prince,” I said quietly after a moment of silence.”

“For what?”

“Not telling you sooner. I…I thought you recognized me.  And when I realized you didn’t, I didn’t want to mess up the best thing to ever happen to me. I just didn’t want you to look at me differently.”

A wide grin split my face again. “Ella, you have me. For better or worse, no matter the animals we keep in our hearts, you will always be my Lady of Shadows.”

“And you will always have me, better or worse. My dark prince, my night.”

After another kiss that was soft and tender, I had the strangest memory surface, and I couldn’t help it. I began to laugh.

Immense confusion crossed Fenella’s face at his laughter, mixed with hurt. “What?”

Between chuckles, I asked. “A jogger in a dress…that was you?”

“What?”

“The night you first came to me…someone came past me as I was picking up the paper. A pretty girl in a slinky dress. She was running…” 

Fenella bit her lip. “Oh gods!” she muttered, burying her face in my chest. “Yes…”

“Why?”

“Why what?” She mumbled.

“Why were you running in a dress? Wait…were you following me?”

“Obviously!” I snapped, my embarrassment growing by the second. If she could have blushed in that moment, I was certain she would have.

“I love you,” I chuckled as he leaned in to kiss me again.

I returned the kiss in an effort to change the subject. “I sure as hell wasn’t losing you again! Not after how long it took me to find you.”

“How long were you looking?” I asked, sincerely curious.

“Since that night,” She replied. My jaw dropped, my eyes widening in shock.

“That must have been at least a decade! You really wanted to find me that badly?”

“Mhm…then when I did, I…I became a blubbering idiot that threw herself at your feet.” She rolled her eyes.

Hooking a finger under her chin, I made her look up. “A blubbering idiot that made me realise that my darkness is nothing to fear. Well, for me to fear, anyway.”

“Your darkness was my savior. My life bringer, my hope. I could never fear it.”

“Ella, you haven’t seen the darkest depths of it yet. But you will.”

Running her hand through my hair, she met my gaze and calmly said. “Come what may, I accept all of you. I love all of you, Angel.”

“And I love all of you, my sweet Fenella,” I grinned. “I am the man I am because of you.”

“I think you don’t give yourself enough credit. You saved that little girl, so long ago. Your heart has been broken, but you stayed true to your values throughout”

“Life is strange, how one choice you make can change everything in ways you never expect.”

“My love, every choice we make changes everything.”

“And I made the best one I have ever made.”

“Saving me?”

“Yes. If I had ended the life of that little girl, I would still be alone, and still be searching for my own savior.”

She leaned into me. “I’d say you found her. But technically, I found you.”

“We found each other, Fen. In this screwed up world, we found one another.”

Laying her head against my chest, we sat in silence for a few moments, listening to the sounds of the nature in the garden, before she spoke again. “So, the hunt begins?”

“Tomorrow morning, yes. Tonight, we have one last night of peace.”

“And I still need to learn to fight.”

“Yes. I will start tomorrow. I do hope you are prepared for some bumps and bruises.”

“Bumps and bruises, I can handle,” she chuckled.

“Yes, although I did something that might make you angry. I was looking out at the gardens earlier, I realized how empty this estate was, and I realized you might want company when I am not here.”

“Empty? It’s so full of life. How would it ever be empty?” Fenella frowned, curiosity and caution in her expression.

“I decided to go and invite some new residents.”

“What!?”

My smile almost vanished, uncertainty outweighing my cheer, but she needed to know.

Raising my fingers to my lips, I whistled. There was silence for a moment, then two dogs came traipsing around the corner.

They were the same breed – fluffy, adorable looking things – but one was as white as snow, the other as black as coal. Both of them plodded up to us and sat obediently, their eyes shining as they gazed up at me.

 “Oh Angel! How beautiful!” Her caution was long gone as she beamed down at the two pups.

Letting out a silent sigh of relief, I crouched down and scratched the black one under the chin. “I didn’t name them. I wanted you to have the honor of that.”

Kneeling, Fenella tapped her leg to call the white one, patting it on the head. “Hmm, what about Yoru and Eechee? I think it means night and day.”

“Yes. It does. Very suitable, too. I like it. Hello, Yoru. Hello Eechee.”

Standing back up, she took my arm in hers and smiled up at me. “Should we head in? We have a full day ahead tomorrow, do we not?”

“Yes. Teaching you to fight, finding the next ones in the chain…tomorrow will be quite the troublesome one.”

Walking back towards the house, we stepped over a downed tree. “Good thing we have plenty of land to practice in.”

“True. But at least it will not be as destructive as today. I rather liked these trees.”

With Fen leaning against me with a beautiful smile, the dogs following behind, we made our way back to the main house. “We can replant. We can watch them grow into their spendor together.”

Origins

CW/TW: Sexual abuse, drug misuse

As we wandered slowly through the grounds of our new home, I couldn’t keep the wide smile from my face as Fenella continuously pointed out all the amenities we had.

Her enthusiasm and sheer joy were infectious, and it was delightful to see her so happy after the last few days. Relishing the feel of her hand clinging tightly to my elbow, I let her ramble, listening intently.

Her eyes were alight as she described her favorite places in the property. “And we have gardeners and everything, assuming we keep them with us. Oh Angel! It’s just perfect.” We arrived at a cozy nook of the garden and sat on a bench. “You’re quiet. Is everything okay?”

I smiled at her. “I am fine, my love…. simply thinking is all.”

She gazed up at me inquisitively, “What about?”

“You asked me to teach you about our lives…”

She nodded in reply, answering simply with a “Mhm…”

Popping the button on my right shirt sleeve after slipping my jacket off, I neatly rolled up the fabric to expose the scars that littered the flesh beneath. “It is time you learned to spot the ones responsible for these, Fen.”

Gulping at the turn in conversation her smile dropped as she watched me.

“Fortunately, they are mostly easy to spot.”

She nodded in silence, waiting for me to continue.

“The first thing you will notice, is that they always travel in pairs – mostly for protection.”

“What..who are they?” She asked softly.

To my surprise, I found the word difficult to say, and it came out through gritted teeth.

“….Hunters…”

“Li-like VanHelsing shit?” Her pop-culture reference made me smile a little bit I kept the conversation serious.

“If that is easier for you to understand this, then yes.”

She shrugged slightly. “ I mean… I could have said Sam and Dean.” She chuckled a little, attempting to lighten the mood.

“Hmmm…” the two characters in question popped into my head and I involuntarily smirked. “No… worse.”

“Yeah, he’s too hot to be scary.” She grinned that innocent grin, winking at me coyly.

“He did have those rather wonderful black eyes though….” I shot back, getting a brilliant blush from her. I cleared my throat before continuing. “Anyway…”

Shifting to face me, realizing this was a serious topic and to pay attention, she replied. “Yeah, anyways…sorry. I’m listening.”

“Good. Because they will kill you if they know what you are, Fen. Or worse, you will encounter ones who want the same as the ones I met did….”

She nodded solemnly, gazing at me intently. 

“I am sorry to be so snappy, Fen, but I don’t want a Hunter taking away the second woman I have ever cared about like they did the first.”

“Then why have you waited so long to teach me?” She asked pointedly.

“Because it is not an easy subject for me. I know you need to learn, but I find it hard to talk of Hunters.”

Inclining her head in understanding, she placed her hand on my arm in reassurance, the soft but steady grip giving me the strength to continue.

“Ella… they scarred me… they took away my first love… and it terrifies the living hell out of me that they might take my second. And that is something that will not happen if I can help it.”

“I.. I know. I stopped joking. I’m ready.”

“Okay. The easiest way to spot them…. is their eyes. They are always looking for you…”

“Pardon another pop culture reference, it’s what I know to use…but, like the guy from the show Grimm?’

The reference puzzled me for a moment, until it finally registered. “Yes…. If pop culture references help you… use them.”

Her focus and attention fully dialed in, she responded. “Sometimes..when I don’t have something historical to use…pop culture helps me understand.”

“The simple fact is, Fen, we are easy to spot compared to humans. They will spot you in a crowd due to one reason, something that is an unfortunate byproduct of vampirism….”

So they use body temp? Like those heat sensor guns from tv?”

“No. Temperature is what they use to double check their suspicions.”

“Heart rate then?”

“No… but that is a good guess.”

A thoughtful look crossed her face. “Hmm, all out of ideas, then.”

“Look at yourself, Fen.” I gestured to her unblemished and flawless skin. “That is how.”

Looking down at her hands, turning them over in observation. “I don’t get it…”

“You are perfect… Humans aren’t.”

She snorted in amusement, “If you say so.”

“Ella, I know you have pain inside…” Her face wrinkled in disagreement at my statement. “But outside you are the physically perfect version of yourself. As am I.”

“Are you saying my scars are also…in my head?”

“You have no scars outside. Trust me, my love, I have seen all of you. I know that you have no scars.”

Sighing, she continued, “Then why do I still see them?”

I paused for a moment, thinking. “Maybe you are like me…. You couldn’t let go what happened to you. Still can’t…”

She muttered under my breath but it wasn’t too low for my keen hearing to not pick up. “I wish the fuckers were dead.” I caught images of ripping her their throats out through our bond before she the blined hard and shook her head, clearing the thoughts from her mind.

I frowned, intrigued by her anger, but I knew better than to push the subject. “Once they see your looks, they will test you.”

Focusing back on me, she asked, “Ok, how?”

That is something you already guessed. First hey check your temperature. Then they make sure with a heart rate sensor.”

“But if we can teleport, how can they catch us?”

“They will test you from as far as possible to keep themselves safe. Then they will wait for you to make a mistake…” I trailed off as a thought occurred to me. “Like we could have made in the club today. Shit….”

“I still don’t completely follow. How would they have gotten in? Don’t we have security for that?”

“They dress like anyone else… They wouldn’t get far with military uniforms or guns, would they?”

“But we don’t have a way to test their eyes when they come in, or something?”

“They have no augments. They only have very strict training. Which in itself is a sign – they walk like soldiers, they act like soldiers, and they make mistakes.”

She shuddered, “don’t we all?”

“Yes… I made one earlier tonight and I need to fix it…”

“You?”

“Yes.”

“What happened? WE DIDN’T!!”

“The girl…. I didn’t wipe her memory.”

 “Oh..” she sighed in slight relief.

I frowned a little, as she clearly wasn’t understanding my concern. “It makes her a liability, Ella…”

“I get that, but she’s not dead…like I thought you meant.”

“I love your heart,” I grinned. “Even if it doesn’t beat…”

She chuckled at that, “If only you knew the dark side of it…you wouldn’t say that.”

“I am the dark side of your heart. As you are the light of mine.”

Shaking her head she dropped her head a little, “The things I dream of…The things I want to DO.”

I bared my fangs, fangs that had ended countless lives.

“What you dream, what you wish to do, are no match for the things I have done. And never will be –  I killed an entire room of people because they tried to sell drugs to a child. A child, Ella.”

“I..” she paused a little as if she was forming her next words carefully. “I could have been her… may have been.” She gazed back up at me, searching my face for something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

“Let me be clear, Fen. I will tolerate some things, but I will rain hell upon those who hurt children. And make no mistake, I have left a river of blood in my wake made of those that have.”

‘Then we share the same values.” She quickly turned away as more flashes of memories danced across her face.

The sorrowful discomfort on her face was disconcerting, and tugged at my heart, but I once again stayed silent, hoping she would speak when she wished.

She spoke in a small voice, begging me to continue. “Can we just get back to the hunters, please?”

I frowned. “What did I say? What’s wrong, my love?” I questioned, taking her hand

“It’s ok… Let’s stay focused. Hunters dress like normal people, we can see it in their eyes like a grimm, and…they walk like a soldier. What else?”

“They are inquisitive. Like you. They frequent clubs like the one today and they listen to the conversations. That is why the girl is a liability.”

“Oh.” Her voice still small as the reality sunk in.

“Yes…”

“But those people come looking for us. They would so easily betray… Nevermind, people are always after their own preservation. I answered my own question. Continue”.

“You lost me…”

“I was going to ask if people like her, that come looking for us, why would they so easily betray us. But, people are always after their own self preservation..so of course they would talk.”

“Not survival…money…And yes, humans betray easily.”

“Same thing. I know all too well what money, drugs and power can do to humans.”

“Once people know what you are they will come to try and gain your favour, gain the gift I have given you.”

“The gift?” Her face contorted in confusion.

I didn’t reply, but simply gestured at her, and her face suddenly registered shock as she realized what I was getting at.

“People want to be turned?”

“Yes.”

“Oh… I, I didn’t realize it was something actually sought after.”

“Humans seek power, revenge, greed… That is why I changed you.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“You didn’t seek Any of those things.”

“Oh.”

“That is why I chose you.”

“I…sometimes I want revenge…” She trailed off again, leaving me even more curious of where her mind was taking her.

“But it is not your purpose. You didn’t want the gift when you met me. And why would you want revenge?”

“No…I wanted…I wanted a lot of things, but never imagined…this. So they won’t do the things they did to me..to anyone else. To make them pay”

“What do you mean, this?”

“This? Us, for starters. I came…seeking repayment for a debt.”

I was lost. Her words had completely knocked me off my train of thought. “You owe me nothing, Fen…”

“I do! Oh Angel, my dark prince! I do!” She held my face in her hands as a single tear runs down her cheek.

Frowning, I pulled her into a hug, letting her weep.

“Did you not recognize me that day? I could have sworn I saw it dawn on you who I was.” She pulled back from me, searching my face.

Looking into her eyes, it was suddenly clear that I had seen them before, but where, I didn’t know. “Ella… Who are you?”

“I..” She swallowed hard. “I am that girl…the one you saved that night. I watched you tear that room apart…for me…” She sat staring at me, waiting patiently for me to catch up.

My jaw dropped. It had been the last thing I ever expected to come out of her mouth.

“I…I have been looking for you ever since.”

As she spoke, I looked back through my own memories to a particular night, remembering a small girl covered in the blood of several butchered drug dealers. “That was you…?”

“You saved my life! You gave me life!”

“You? You were that girl? The one innocent I left behind…”

She nodded at me, tears streaking her face. “I am.”

“Why were you there?”

Her body recoiled as she looked away. Her voice was small as she continued, “I…they….owned me…”

I said nothing, simply listening.

“You…they’re still more of them out there. I… She paused her sentence as the tears finally broke through. Her entire body begins to shudder as she sobbed.

Feeling nothing but sympathy and horror at what she had gone through, I pulled her once more into a hug, letting her sob upon my shoulder.

She clenched her teeth as she spoke, deep anger evident in her tone “Angel…I want them all DEAD!”

I leaned back, shocked by her fury. “Ella…”

“I told you I owe you!!! And I told you I wanted revenge!” She sat up, her eyes red with revenge and bloodlust.

I didn’t move. I was unafraid, as there was little she could do to hurt me. “Revenge on WHAT?”

“Them!!” She growled.

“Ella, the ones who caused your pain are dead! I made damn sure of that! With my own. Two. Hands!” My eyes turned a dead black. “They are gone!”

“Not all of them! Not the ones that sold me. Not the ones that threw me away. Not the ones that kept me in a gods damn box! You got one room! I have a fucking lifetime of them!”

I snapped. All the rage in my body bubbled up and I let out a primal roar, flashing into the forest and smashing several trees to splinters with the sheer forward momentum I was creating.

Fenella appeared in the middle of the destruction and called out to me. “Angel!” She stopped dead In front of yme, blocking a swing. “This is my fight! This is why I didn’t want to tell you!”

My eyes remained black, and I was breathing raggedly due to the seething fury in me. “They kept you…in a box!!!”

She placed her hands on my chest and nodded once. “That’s why I can’t do a coffin.”

“They kept you in a box… I’m going to find them. And I am going to rip them limb. From
Limb.”

“Only if I get to strike first! I need to see the life drain from their eyes as they realize who I am!”

“Trust me, Ella.” I took her beautiful face in my hands, kissed her forehead then her lips, then met her gaze. “When we are done, they will never think of touching any child ever again. Because they will be nothing but footnotes in the history of bad mistakes.”

She cocked her to the side, staring back at me, “So the hunt begins?”

The Calm Before The Storm

Before my eyes opened, I could smell the fragrance of whatever she had washed her hair with. Inhaling deeply, I snuggled a little closer, only for her to shift in my arms.

Fenella moaned as she turned into me, blinking sleepily up at me. “So, I have been thinking…of our home…”

“Our home… yes. As have I. This apartment is nice, but it is too small. It was okay when I was here alone, but if we are living together we will need somewhere a little bigger.”

“Bigger? Oh Angel, that’s not what I meant at all. I was just thinking of something a little quieter. Maybe the countryside. Everything is so loud here. It’s hard to focus and learn.” She nuzzled under my chin, drawing her finger on my chest in those patterns again.

“Fenella, not to put too fine a point on it, but I can afford to live anywhere. If you wish to live in the country, we can. We can have our own home, wherever we want. Wherever you want.”

“I gathered that…” She giggled and pulled herself from my embrace, rushing to the wardrobe and dressing quickly. “Come on…I want to show you something.” Her smile was intoxicating so I quickly complied. She grabbed my hand, and teleported us to a beautiful castle in Brechin, Scotland. “Soooo, this?“ She beamed.

I took a slow look around the grounds of the castle, but my eyes kept returning to the wide, hopeful and brilliant smile on her face, which made the decision for me. Pulling her into my arms, I gazed into her eyes.

“Ella,” I chuckled quietly before softly kissing  her velvet soft lips, “if this is your dream, I will make it real. I would do anything for you.”

“Oh Angel! It has 70 acres.. walled gardens. There are 5 estate cottages, 16 bedrooms.” She broke my embrace and began spinning around in the garden, arms open wide like a child.

“I may be wrong here, but I am thinking this place has been on your mind before… is this what you want? To live here?”

She stopped spinning and ran back to me. “Before you, it was my wildest dreams completely unimaginable. Out of reach, unrealistic. But with you…I feel anything is possible.” She kissed my scarred cheek, her eyes twinkling with glee. “Yes Angel. I want this. With you.”

Gazing down at her, her happiness made me smile just as broadly. With a wide smile, I leaned down and whispered, “It is almost as beautiful as you, Ella. Almost…”

Taking another look around, I saw a sign hammered into the earth a few hundred metres away. After a quick search on my phone, I vanished, leaving her in the grounds of the castle.

A small conversation later and I rejoined her, holding a peace of paper and a pen that I held out to her, getting a small frown of confusion. “Sign, and the owner says it is ours. Today.” I grinned.

She let out a squeal, as she jumped into my arms, wrapping herself around me with her arms and legs. I hugged her back and whispered, “I told you. I will give you the world if it makes you smile.”

She lowered herself back to the ground, looking up at me. “My piece of paradise!”

“Our piece of paradise, Fen.”

“You silly! You are my piece of paradise.” She giggled again and nudged me playfully.

Shaking my head a little in bemusement, I once again held out the deed and pen. “this needs your signature too, my love.”

“Oh gods, Angel!” She took the pen and deed and signed the document with another squeal.

Chuckling a little, I vanished once more, returning a few moments later before gesturing out at the surrounding area. “This is all ours, Fen…”

“Walk with me? I want to show you our home.”

“Of course. Lead the way, my love.” I nodded, offering my arm to her as we began to walk.

Sisters of Savagery – Geneviève Robespierre

It was too quiet.

Geneviève’s sword dripped with the slick blood of the werewolves that now lay dead in the streets of Berlin.

Side by side with her sisters, the four of them listened carefully for the sound of oncoming werewolves, as where there was a small pack, more were always nearby.

“Maybe we got them all.” The slight tremble of Jessamyn’s voice belied her nerves.

“I doubt it.” Geneviève’s response was more a sigh of irritation than a bold statement of fact, her husky French tones dripping with resigned annoyance. “Keep that blade ready, sister.”

Jessamyn nodded, grasping the handles of her twin daggers with renewed determination. They were vicious things, the edges sharp enough to slice through flesh with the greatest of ease.

Ariella was peeking around the edge of the building, ebony hair hanging down over her face, a silken curtain that hid her brown, serious eyes.

A crossbow dangled from her shoulder, a bolt already loaded. All it took was a tensing of her slim shoulders to tell Geneviève that more trouble was on the way.

“How many?”

“At least three dozen… maybe forty. It is hard to tell. They’re trashing houses.”

“Looking for us, no doubt. They will not take kindly to – what is it sister?” Geneviève asked, as Ariella had suddenly gasped in shock.

“Lox is here.”

Geneviève let out the same shocked gasp as Ariella, as did Jessamyn and Nikita. Lox was not usually part of the werewolf packs, his position as second in command to his brother Vilkas normally keeping him out of harm’s way.

“Why the hell is Lox here?” Nikita argued.

“I should think Vilkas wants us gone. Not the vampires. Us.” Ariella shrugged, checking the trigger on her crossbow.

“Of course Vilkas wants us gone. How many of his kind have we killed across the continents, Ella? Five hundred? Six?” Geneviève muttered, using the leather sleeve of her tunic to wipe the edge of her blade clean.

“It doesn’t matter. We have the opportunity to take out the second biggest threat in their army, and I for one am going to take it.”

Ariella stepped around the corner and fired as fast her hands could reload the crossbow, a multitude of pained howls signalling that she was at the very least making contact with every bolt fired.

As Ariella fired, Geneviève led the charge around the corner, sword raised. As she did so, her sisters right behind her, she saw the full extent of the werewolf army that had flooded into Berlin and almost stopped.

Ariella clearly hadn’t seen them all when she had told them there were forty. There were far more.

A bubble of fear lodged in her heart, but Geneviève continued running, taking off the head of the nearest pair as she crashed into their numbers like a tidal wave.

The shock of their head-on assault caused their retaliation to be staggered, the werewolves unable to comprehend their fellow soldiers being cut down so quickly.

Geneviève kept Nikita close, defending her sister every time a vulnerability appeared in her defenses – being the youngest, Nikita was still prone to leaving herself open to attacks as she fought – and trusted Ariella to keep the crowds at bay with her bolts.

The sheer number of werewolves soon became overwhelming, however, and Geneviève was forced to drag Nikita away as Ariella signalled a retreat. Fleeing down the street, Ariella kept their backs covered, but it was futile.

The snarls and roars of enraged hunger and hatred sounded loud in the deserted streets, and the bar that slammed across the door behind them was a temporary reprieve at best.

“We cannot stay here in Berlin.” Geneviève muttered, leaning on the railing of the stairs.

“You’re afraid of a pack of wolves?” Jessamyn’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Not afraid. Logical. There are too many out there.”

No sooner had the words left her mouth than something began to slam into the door, warping the bar with every impact.

“We can take them, Gen. We let them in and we kill them as they bottleneck themselves, until it’s just Lox. He can’t take all four of us at once.” Jessamyn shrugged.

“Want to take that chance?” Geneviève snapped, “Because I don’t.”

“You are afraid.” Jessamyn shot back. “You think Lox can kill us and you would rather run than fight him.”

“It’s called a tactical retreat, Jess.”

“It’s called cowardice, Gen.”

“Both of you, hush!” Ariella suddenly stepped between them, one hand up, the other to her mouth with a finger over her lips. Geneviève fell silent, as did Jessamyn.

The hammering at the door had stopped – not even the sounds of snarling or howling could be heard. A frown quirked Geneviève’s lips, as werewolves never gave up on prey until either they or it were dead.

Then they heard it. A low, menacing growl outside the door.

“So this is what the fabled Imperium vampires do when challenged by a superior enemy… they hide like rats…” came the voice of Lox. “My brother would be so disappointed in you.”

Geneviève rolled her eyes, and saw Nikita curled up in a ball near the stairs. Instantly she knelt beside her, stroking her hair.

“It’s okay, Nik… it’s okay. He’s just trying to scare us.” Her voice trembled a little, and Geneviève suddenly wondered if she was trying to convince herself, not Nikita.

“But he wants to kill us.”

“Of course he does. But he’s not going to, and do you know why?”

“No…”

“Because he’s just a giant overgrown mongrel!” Geneviève bellowed, starting another series of enraged howls outside the door.

The door began to buckle again, and Nikita covered her ears. Ariella glared at her.

“Well done. Now they’re all pissed at us.”

“They were to begin with, Ella, so why – Jess! Where are you -” Geneviève’s question was cut short as Jessamyn plowed straight through the wall beside the door, creating a hole and impaling one of the wolves in the skull.

Ariella immediately followed her, the tactic having caused a temporary shocked retreat among the werewolves. Geneviève looked down at Nikita.

“We have to go, baby. We cannot stay here, so we have to move. Can you fight?”

“I think so, if you stick by me…”

“Then fight, Nik. Make me proud.”

Nikita let herself be pulled to her feet, gave Geneviève a beaming smile, then followed her out into the street.

Ariella and Jessamyn had cut a bloody swathe through the crowd, but they were now back to back, fighting them off. Lox was on the outer edge of the swarm, circling as he waited for his underlings to weaken one of them.

Geneviève nudged Nikita and pointed to Lox, making Nikita nod. Side by side, they cut their way through the mass of furry bodies, until Geneviève was close enough to throw her sword like a javelin.

The blade soared past Lox’s head, slicing his snout open and embedding itself in the skull of one behind him. Lox fell away, and Geneviève drew her daggers.

Slicing tendons and necks, Geneviève made short work of her adversaries, deadlier with the daggers than she was with the katana.

Soon a sea of dead werewolves lay at her feet, and her eyes fell on Lox, who was still nursing his snout, blood dripping between his claws to the cold stone.

Geneviève glared at him, and he seemed to feel her eyes burning into him as she slowly advanced towards him, fangs bared.

His eyes darted from her to her sisters, who stepped up beside her. Geneviève glanced over her shoulder, and not a single werewolf was left standing except for Lox.

Evidently seeing the only way out, Lox turned tail and ran. Beside her, Ariella raised the crossbow, only for it to click empty.

“Damn it.”

“We’ll get him, Ella. He’ll be back.” Jessamyn patted her on the back.

“Yeah…” Looking down at her tunic, Ariella grimaced. “I need a bath.”

Geneviève glanced at her own clothing and nodded. “We all do. The river is down that way.”

Side by side, the four made their way to the river, pausing only to strip off their bloodstained clothes before diving into the frigid waters.

The bite of the freezing waters soon drove them back out, and minutes later, Ariella had scavenged dry clothing for them all. Nikita quickly set a fire, the four of them huddling around it for warmth.

As night drew in, Geneviève took her turn at guard duty, and found Nikita dozing softly at the corner. She couldn’t blame the poor girl, as there was no human or werewolf in the city, just them.

Lifting Nikita’s head gently, she began her watch, her friend’s head in her lap and her knife at her side. For a while there would be peace, but the war was far from over.

A Fragile Peace

Staring at the spot where Fenella had vanished, I was taken aback. Lost in thought, I laid the young girl on the small sofa, tugged the blanket from the back of the sofa over her and left her to slumber.

As I had landed in the living room, Fenella was nowhere to be seen, but the door to the balcony at the back was wide open, letting a cold breeze into the apartment.

Walking slowly out, I found her seated on the lounger with her knees under her chin, curled up and looking out at the river. Taking a seat beside her, I waited for her to speak.

“Why couldn’t I heal her, Angel? I don’t understand. I did the same thing you did.” She exhaled with her brow furrowed.

“I know you did, Fen. But I should have explained. Your blood is mine, now. But it is weaker than mine and will be for several years. You will eventually be able to heal… think of it as dilution. It is a weaker version of the base form.”

“You could have told me,” she spat, anger seething from her voice. “Instead, I was embarrassed and…” She trailed off, still not looking at me. 

“And what, Fenella? I cannot help you if you do not talk to me.”

“You take me to the club, give me these new experiences but not teach me or explain anything to me. Do you expect me to just pick these things up or are you ever going to teach me?” She was more exasperated than mad at this point and gave me a side glance.

“Of course I’m going to teach you, Fen. How was I to know you were going to try and heal her yourself? You could have asked if it would have worked before you tried. I wasn’t to know you would try to.” I ran my hand through my hair, and turned my own gaze out to the river.

“I don’t know, but I had no bearing on the fact that it wouldn’t work. I am completely clueless here and feel like you aren’t telling me anything, Angel. Like I am fumbling around in the dark, literally.” She sighed.

“May I point something out, please?” I asked, keeping my voice quiet and polite.

“Of course.” She uncoiled her legs and leaned back against the bench, stretching them out in front of her.

“You are the first person I have turned in my life, Fen. You are the first person that made me feel enough to want to turn them. Before you, I was quite content being alone. But now I want to spend the rest of my life with you, so you have to understand – I have never needed to teach someone before. I am learning as I go, just like you. So please, be patient with me.”

She glanced over at me and stared. “I-I am? Why me? I’m no one special. A nothing.” She blinked at me perplexed, awaiting my reply.

“Why? Why did I turn you… Is the answer to that not clear to you yet?”

She shook her head. “No, I have never been treated with such compassion before. I came to you as an offering of gratitude and got a whole new life, literally. My head spins with all the constant changes and emotions I have never felt before. I don’t know how to act. And most of the time, I am overwhelmed with them and the sounds and cravings all at the same time. Help me understand, Angel.” She sighed and looked back out towards the balcony railing, losing focus in thought. 

“I turned you because… as odd, and as laughable as it would seem to you, I felt something for you when you walked through my door, Fen. I have known you only days, and yet… all I know is I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Before you knocked on my door, I was going to sleep the next few centuries away and hope it was better when I woke up. But you… you gave me the hope I needed. You, Fen, you’re the perfect person that vampirism is meant for.”

“Me, perfect? How?” She tilted her head, gazing at me. “Because I sought repayment or revenge?” 

The last word caught my attention. Revenge…? What would she want revenge for…? I didn’t question it though, as the thought of another argument was a rather depressing one. Paling at the slip, she turned away quickly.

“You came in here, looking for me. But you didn’t seek power, you didn’t seek a long life, you just wanted freedom. And that was so new to me, it still is. And I wanted to give you that freedom, Fen.” I told her.

“Freedom was something you gave me a long time ago. I came to repay you for that. You saw something else in me and gave me a new life. One I am trying to understand and learn about. Just be honest with me. Let’s learn together. Okay?”

“You have my word, Fen. From here on out, we will find our way through this together, no secrets, learning as we go. Feeding, hunting, fighting… I will teach you it all, but you have to start asking if you want an answer. Just promise me that.”

She nodded in agreement and leaned into me, laying her head on my chest. WIth a single finger, she began running it along my chest in a repetitive pattern. I smiled down at her and wrapped her in my arms. 

The night was drawing in, and while we had no pulse and as such no body heat, the air was still frigid this time of year, so I kissed her forehead. “Shall we go to bed, where it is a little warmer?” 

“I’d like that, Angel. I feel safe in your arms. Something I have never felt before.” 

I frowned a little at this last, and thoughts of what her life must have been like for her to have never felt safe began to bubble up, but it was not the right time. Lifting her as easily as a bag of flour, I carried her indoors to the bedroom, kicking the balcony door shut behind me. 

Letting her down to her feet, I paused, then let her undress herself, just in case she wasn’t wanting the intimacy. Pulling off my clothes, I slid under the covers and lifted them for her to join me.

She climbed in and burrowed herself against me, laying her head in the crook of my arm, as she sighed contentedly and closed her eyes, drifting off in my arms.

Smiling a little, I closed my own eyes and followed her into dreams.

A Truth Unveiled

The smell of the fire was soothing, the scent of the cedar smoke filling the room enough to bring a smile of reminiscence to Geneviève’s face. She was sat beside the fireplace in her drawing room, legs curled up beneath her as she slowly read through the novel she had purchased earlier in the day.

Her skin was ivory white, her face the epitome of gothic beauty. Her long and lustrous ebony hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, bringing all the focus towards her beauty. Ruby red lips, sharp cheekbones and silvery grey eyes that were rimmed in black, she was perfect.

Tall and slender, she wore a blue silk robe that covered her just to below her rear, her customary clothing when she was home alone. As she was uninvolved with any of her fellow vampires – or any human – she was usually alone, which she preferred.

Her phone buzzed once on the small wooden table, but she didn’t bother to look. Only one person possessed the number for that particular phone, which lay next to her own regular mobile. Then it buzzed a second time, which drew her attention.

Frowning, she picked the phone up and opened the messages. It was a voicemail from her employer, Cesare, who usually didn’t leave them. Accessing the message, she listened silently as Cesare demanded her presence in New York.

The message clicked off and Geneviève rolled her eyes in derision. Cesare was unaware that she performed her job solely based on the paycheck he gave her. Personally, she thought he was a vile and pathetic man, and would gladly perform her duties on him if she had to.

Her stomach rumbled audibly in the silence of the room, and Geneviève frowned.

“Merde.” She muttered, bringing her legs from under her and heading for the kitchen after placing the book neatly on the side table, bookmark meticulously straight inside.

As she passed her bedroom, she felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand up and she immediately came to a halt. Tightening her robe a little, she took a single step backwards and gazed into her bedroom.

It appeared there was no one in there, but as she made her way further in, she picked up a small ornate letter opener off of its stand. It wouldn’t kill a vampire if they had broken in, but it would ruin their day if she gutted them like a fish.

Why someone would break into her home, Geneviève didn’t know, as she was one of only six vampires with an absolute free reign to kill other vampires, being the Headsman of Europe. If she killed the intruder, she would not face trial due to her position, which is why the post of Headsman was given only to people who would not abuse its privileges and freedoms.

There was no one in the bedroom, even in the walk in wardrobe. She left the bedroom, closing the door behind her after one last look, then headed on to the kitchen. She was just about to step through the archway into it when there was a noise from the living room.

It was only a small sound, one glass tinkling against a second, but Geneviève heard it, along with the whispered curse. Silently padding down the hall, Geneviève stopped at the doorway, took a completely noiseless breath and struck.

Taking a single step into the doorway, she hurled the letter opener with full strength at the figure her eyes saw in the corner near the globe bar.

They moved out of the way, the blade thudding into the wall behind them, but by that time Geneviève was already in motion, flicking the light switch and sprinting across the room to tackle them to the floor.

She raised her fist to punch them when they spoke, which made her pause, bewildered.

“Geneviève, stop!” they called through the vice grip she had on their throat. It was a voice she recognized instantly, and she got off them to switch the light back on. In the corner, sat against the wall and rubbing her bruised neck, was one of her oldest friends.

Extremely pretty, with tan skin and perfectly straight black hair, she was glaring at Geneviève with light brown eyes that were piercing in their intensity. Her toned, tall frame was wrapped in leather, with a cerulean shirt under her biker jacket.

“You nearly killed me with this!” she snapped, reaching up above her head and yanking the letter opener free of the wall. Geneviève walked over and gave her a look of utter mocking as she offered her a hand up.

“Don’t be so melodramatic, Ariella. You know as well as I do – if I had intended to kill you with it, I would not have thrown it. I would have stood right in front of you and took your head off. Besides, you should have known better than to come into my apartment uninvited.” Geneviève replied, her husky French accent thick in her voice.

“Yeah. But I wanted to see you.”

“Then why not phone ahead?”

“As stupid as it was, I didn’t want to be rejected. Your Houses have a grudge against ours at the moment, and there was the chance that Cesare had told you to turn me away if I requested a visit.”

“Even if he did, he can go to hell. You are my oldest and closest friend, Ariella. You fought on the frontline with me in Budapest, and if it wasn’t for you I would have died there, so I could care less what Cesare wants. I owe you a blood debt and my life.”

“You owe me nothing.” Ariella smiled. Geneviève heard her stomach growl and gave her a smile back.

“How about dinner?”

“I don’t want to impose.”

“Hush. I was about to make dinner myself in any case, so making a little extra is nothing. Please, sit. I’ll bring it in when I am done.”
Ariella nodded, slipping off her jacket and hanging it on the back of a chair. Geneviève left her to get comfortable as she headed into the kitchen.

Switching on the gas ring, she placed a pan on it and dropped a wedge of herb butter in. While she waited for it to melt, she quickly chopped carrots and potatoes into a series of identical slices before crushing two cloves of raw garlic.

Dropping the vegetables into the pan, Geneviève heard the sizzle of the liquidized butter and turned her attention to the joint of beef. Using a knife from the nearby block, she expertly cut the bone out, which she binned without looking before slicing the meat into perfectly even slabs.

Once it was cut, she carefully placed the strips of beef into the pan, letting it cook slowly. As she kept an eye on the frying food, she took a pair of glasses from the cupboard and placed them on the counter. From out of the fridge she took an opaque glass decanter.

After she poured the contents into the glasses, she put the bottle into the fridge and left it to warm. By this time the meat and vegetables were almost done, requiring little than to be turned over.

Once it was cooked, Geneviève blew out the flames and turned the stove off, carefully placing the food onto a pair of plates, then onto a tray along with the glasses, which were now room temperature.

She took the food through to the living room to see Ariella gazing into the flames as if spellbound. Geneviève took a moment to study her friend, and noticed a tension in her limbs. Ariella was worried.

“Dinner is served.” Geneviève said quietly, making Ariella jump. She quickly sat down, and Geneviève gave her one of the plates and glasses before sitting and placing the tray to the side.

They ate in silence, the only sound in the room the soft crackling of the flames. Once they were finished, Ariella took a sip from her glass before frowning at it.

“Is this human?”

“Yes. An Italian male born in nineteen seventy six. Is there a problem with it?”

“No. I just… I usually drink younger blood.”

“Ah, yes. I almost forgot your predilection for virgins, although I should think it is difficult to find such donors these days.”

“Not particularly. There are always foolish young men that think with their cocks, pretending to be experienced and brave. Then they crumble, going weak at the knees as you stroke their ego before you show them what a real woman wants from a man.”

“Speaking of what you want, why are you here?”

“I need some help.”

“And I was your first port of call? Charming.”

“Who else is there? Jessamyn is out in the depths of Aokigahara. And I couldn’t find Nikita.” Ariella said, her Israeli tones rich with depression.

“Our dearly beloved Satanist is sleeping the century away. She got fed up of the wars and petty squabbling of humans, and decided to visit New Orleans to hijack one of the crypts in Valence.”

“Of course. She always loved the bayou.”

“So it’s just me and you… while I do enjoy your quite entertaining company, I miss the four of us not being back together.”

Ariella nodded, knowing what she meant, and agreeing completely. The four of them – Geneviève and Ariella, as well as Nikita Cheswick and Jessamyn Phelps –  had fought side by side in the war, becoming one of the most feared and vaunted werewolf killing units in memory.

Elias had not even bothered to give them orders, as they were better in the field, killing werewolves wherever they had found them. It was what they were good at, and what made them happy.

“I think we should leave them be. Nikita is sleeping, true, but she came to see me before she went over to her resting place. She was so down, I couldn’t say anything to comfort her. Oh God, I miss our sisters.” Geneviève burst into tears.

Ariella was immediately beside her, her arms around Geneviève who buried her head into Ariella’s chest and openly wept.

“I miss them too, honey. I really do. But we can’t drag them back into being part of this circus. It wouldn’t be fair on them, especially with what they both did to get out.”

Geneviève sobbed harder. Ariella didn’t speak any further, instead holding her friend as she cried until the tears ran dry and she fell silent. As they sat in the chair, Geneviève wrapped tight in the arms of her friend, she realized she felt safe.

“Here, drink this.” Ariella said eventually, handing Geneviève her glass of blood. Geneviève drained the glass and wiped her tears away. “Better?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Ariella placed the glass to one side, and moved back to the other chair. “Honey, I miss Nikita. I miss Jessamyn as well, I do. But you know the nightmares Nikita had, and she deserves to sleep. And Jessamyn is a free spirit. You remember as well as me how difficult it was to get her to stay in one place.”

“Yeah… like Berlin.”

“Berlin… I’ll never forget the look on the face of those werewolves when she went straight through the wall and hit their leader with that slab of marble.”

Geneviève giggled, as did Ariella, which soon became a bout of full blown laughter. They laughed for several minutes, until they fell silent. “Why did you come to Paris, Ariella? You didn’t say.”

“I want to show you something.” Ariella replied, unbuttoning her shirt.

“I’ve already seen your breasts.” Geneviève joked.

“Oh, I remember…” Ariella winked, “But I was referring to this.” She reached into her shirt and pulled free a length of black twine with a fang dangling off of it, a fang that Geneviève recognized.

“You bought a fake werewolf fang?”

“That’s just it.” Ariella smiled, pulling the twine off with a snap and handing it over. “I took that out of the mouth of one I killed in Moscow a few days ago.”

“Why were you in Moscow?” Geneviève asked, slowly studying the fang.

“I was looking for Nikita. I didn’t know she was over in New Orleans. But I was rather unlucky. The night before I was going to leave, the werewolf that came for me saw me in a bar and tried to kill me in an alley.”

“He recognized you?”

“Yeah.”

“He must have been an old one. No one who saw us in the last war survived it. They were probably one of the few that managed to hide and go to ground. Elias knew some of them escaped.”

“And he didn’t have us hunt them and make sure they were eradicated?”

“No. He thought they would be smart enough to stay small and not rebuild. But this thing is real.” Geneviève said, staring over the fang at Ariella.

“I told you.”

“No, no, no. This is real. This is a genuine fang, and it’s from a real werewolf. Do you know what this means?”

“That the guy was a dumbass.”

“Other than that.”

“No.”

“The werewolves have returned. If one of them had the nerve to attack you – one of the Imperium vampires – they aren’t small anymore. One of them attacked you, and the only time they would do that is if they knew they had the backing of a larger force.”

“Shit…” Ariella muttered. “There’s going to be another war isn’t there?”

“Looks like it. But there is nothing we can do about it tonight, Ariella.”

“There is. We can drive to Rome tonight and visit Cesare, show him this and try and get the ball rolling on making preparations.”

“Cesare isn’t in Rome. And if you were so worried, you would have bypassed me and gone straight there to begin with. Why come to show me?”

“I thought you would be a good back up in case that pompous Italian jackal didn’t believe me. Is that what you want to hear?”

“If it’s the truth, then yes. Is it?”

“No.”

“Then why are you really here?”

“I missed you, okay. I miss what we used to be when we were part of the Imperium. You, me, Nikita, Jessamyn… the years we spent together were the best of my life. I know you and I weren’t as close as I was with the other two, but what you and I had… I missed you.”

Geneviève gazed at Ariella. There was such emotion in her voice that it was heartbreaking. She had been close to Ariella during the war, but she had no conception that she felt the way she did.

After a brief pause, Geneviève crossed to sit next to her friend and placed her arms around her. Ariella leaned into the embrace, and Geneviève simply held her.

“Geneviève?” Ariella said after a while.

“Yeah, honey?”

“Will you help me with Cesare? I don’t want to face that guy alone. I’m not afraid of him, I just… he makes me sick to my stomach.”

“Of course I’ll help. My allegiance was to our unit long before it was to that sexist asshole.” Geneviève laughed, leaning Ariella back to look in her beautiful brown eyes, which coincidentally gave her a perfect view straight down her shirt at the soft, tan skin of Ariella’s breasts.

Ariella caught her.

“See something you like?” she asked, and Geneviève jumped. Ariella was smiling a little, apparently not even bothered her friend had just been gawping at her like a horny schoolgirl.

“Yeah. You.” Geneviève shrugged.

“You’re not bad looking yourself.” Ariella replied, her eyes challenging. Geneviève felt herself flush with desire and cleared her throat.

“Look, Cesare wants me in New York as soon as time allows. He wants me there in my official capacity as his Headsman. I’ll buy you an extra ticket in the morning and you can come with me.”

“Thank you.” Ariella nodded, giving her a beautiful smile. Then she bit her lip in a cute, endearing way and added, “Can I use your shower?”

“Sure. First door on the left.” Geneviève grinned.

Ariella left the room, and a few minutes later the shower began to run. Geneviève listened to the running water for a moment, and found herself thinking of what Ariella had said.

A smile crossed her face. Standing, she headed out of the living room and into the bathroom, silently entering and closing the door behind her. Slipping the robe off, as well as the women’s boxers underneath, she pulled the shower door open and joined Ariella.

“Geneviève, what are – ” Ariella began, her voice full of surprise.

Geneviève interrupted her, gaining body to body contact as she pulled Ariella into a tender, soft kiss under the streaming water. Ariella didn’t complain or demand an explanation, but kissed her back.

In the kiss, Geneviève could feel the passion and love that Ariella had for her, and tried to match it. When they separated, Ariella was smiling.

“What was that?”

“I thought about what you said. And you were right. I wasn’t as close to you as the other girls were. And that wasn’t right. I always felt like the odd one out. And time has a way of making you realize what you should have done. This is what I should have done. A long time ago.”

Ariella smiled, a wide, gorgeous smile that exposed her incredibly sharp fangs. “You never did this with the others while we were a unit. Why am I different?”

“Because you never asked.”

“What?”

“You never asked for this. And that’s why I am doing this, because you are different. I didn’t just miss you. I have no intention of telling the other two this, but I had feelings for you all those years ago.”

“Then why didn’t you act on them?”

“I didn’t want to make a fool of myself. I didn’t know if you were with Nikita or Jessamyn.”

“I wasn’t. And I’m not with anyone now. Not yet.”

“You are now. If you want to be, I mean.”

Ariella’s response was to lean in and give Geneviève a kiss that was rough, needy and hungry, pushing her up against the shower glass as her tongue sought entry into Geneviève’s mouth.

Ariella’s hand roamed lower, stopping just above the soft, smooth skin of Geneviève’s mons, which was clearly a request for permission.

Geneviève shook her head, and Ariella immediately moved her hand back up to her cheek, until Geneviève softly pushed her away with a soft sound of pleading.

“I think it’s time for bed.”

“Yeah. I take it you have a spare room?”

“No. But I don’t need one.” Geneviève told her as she turned the water off.

“Where am I going to sleep?” Ariella asked, frowning deeply. Geneviève simply smiled at her until the look of realization crossed her face. “Oh…”

“Yeah. Come on.”

Geneviève stepped out of the shower, handed her a towel and dried herself off with another. Once they were both dry, she took her by the hand and – without bothering to dress for bed – led Ariella back along the hall to her bedroom.

Slipping under the sheets, Geneviève held the covers open for Ariella who slid in beside her, resting her head on Geneviève’s chest above the covers.

“Geneviève?” she said after a while, making her jump a little as she had assumed Ariella was asleep.

“Yeah, sweetie?”

“Thank you.”

“What for?”

“Reminding me that some people do care for me.”

“I always have. I always will.”

“Goodnight, Geneviève.”

“Goodnight honey.” Geneviève replied, giving her a soft kiss on the top of the head only to realize that she was already softly snoring. Feeling happy for the first time in a long time, Geneviève closed her eyes and was soon fast asleep like her friend, smiling the entire time.

Love and Slaughter – Ravenna Romaine

Guest author: J.A. Aquino

The tang of spices wafted out from the door behind her, and the sizzling of juicy meats cut through the quiet night. Ravenna smiled underneath her wide-brimmed hat, swinging her feet over the porch and watching as the waves washed over the shore. The foam inched closer and closer to the beach house each minute. By evening the sea would be but a dozen steps away — the perfect place to wash off the filth of the coming slaughter.

The kitchen quieted. The crackling of flames and bubbling oils made way for the clink of clay plates and metal forks. Heavy footsteps came up behind her. The aroma of fried meats was almost as intoxicating as her lust for sport.

“Let me guess,” Ravenna said, sniffing the air and pursing her lips in thought. “Mustard-marinated beef slices?”

“With a bit of honey mixed in. Oh, and there’s some potatoes, too. I was feeling adventurous this time.” 

The voice that answered was deep and husky, yet somehow silly and coy. The fine balance of power and jovial whimsy had caught Ravenna’s heart the first time she heard it. Even now, nearly half a year later, it still made her giddy inside.

She turned and looked up into Vladimir’s dark eyes. His bearded jawline was hidden partially behind a plate full of steaming delicacies, but even for that she could see the smile crinkles in his sculpted cheeks, the crease between his brows. His short black hair and even blacker coat swayed slightly in the ocean breeze. To others, he gave off an intimidating and cold energy. But serious man that he was in public, in private he always let slip his goofier side. It was just for her, and she knew it. A little part of him that only she could ever see.

Vladimir sat down, setting the plate between them. Ravenna picked up one of the forks and pierced a slice, her excitement mounting. One bite. All it took was one bite, and she was lost in flavorful bliss. She laid on the porch, chewing slowly, savoring the taste. Such delectable meat. So succulent and juicy, like the last man they had shared days before.

“I’m glad you like it,” Vladimir laughed. “I tried something the butcher mentioned, to soften the meat further. It seems it worked. A good meal before what’s to come later.”

Ravenna opened her eyes. “We may get some of them in our mouths. Their horrid, rancid taste shall not wash away easily. I suggest we save some of this to replace their foul flesh.”

“It’s already been arranged. There is another serving waiting for us inside for when we finish with them. This… this is all for you.”

“For us,” Ravenna corrected. She sat up and glared, eyes darting between him and the food. “Do not give me excuses this time.”

Vladimir smirked and plucked the fork out of her hand. He stuck it in his mouth and chewed with gusto. “Bon appétit.”

They ate in silence, just sitting together and watching the sun set. The breeze strengthened into gusts that bore the smell of the salty see, and the waves started to crash onto the beach. A full moon crept across the darkening sky. 

Vladimir poured them each a mazzer full of wine. Ravenna looked skeptically into the dark liquid, the prize for which her partner had gone all the way to Marseille. But one sip and she knew she should never have doubted him. The man had excellent taste.

“Quiet moments like these are too few,” Vladimir said, taking a deep breath.

“Do you not like it that way?” Ravenna asked. “Ours is a life of constant action. Others of our kind wish for peace, to be free of persecution. But have we not learned that danger keeps us sharp?”

“Of course. Sharp fangs and sharp eyes, always good to have.” He looked at her, one corner of his lips tugging upwards. “Even still, peace has its place. It allows me to reflect on the future. Our future.”

A deep warmth settled itself inside her, mellowing her heightening excitement into careful anticipation. “Our future? Just what are you trying to say, Vladimir?”

Vladimir swallowed, his eyes widening. He looked away, tapping his knuckles against the wooden porch. Ravenna took his momentary distraction to swallow as well, and to recompose herself.

“It’s been a long time. Plenty of time to get to know each other. We seem to have so much in common.” He sucked in a breath. “Not a day goes by when I don’t think of you.”

Ravenna’s heart was pounding in her chest. “Go on,” she said, her throat tight.

Vladimir chewed on his lip. He flashed her a smile and reached for her hands. Warm flesh met hers, and yet she shivered. Through his touch she could feel his pulse, his hot blood… blood unlike any others.

“Ravenna,” he said. “Every day brings risk to us. And so I just wanted to say… I-”

A howl resonated through the night, carried upon the cold winds. More howls followed, one after the other, overlapping, until the very wood of the porch trembled beneath them.

“Ah.” He sighed. “Seems we must deal with the rabble first.”

Vladimir stood, his warm hands leaving hers, and walked out towards the encroaching sea. Ravenna cursed under her breath. As she watched Vladimir stride into the shallows, a burning desire beat within her heart. From there it spread to every vein of her body, filling her with maddening heat — a yearning for flesh altogether different from that which had consumed her earlier.

Ravenna stood and followed him into the scintillating waves. They were  exposed on all sides, appearing as easy prey. With luck, their misguided quarry would appear, and they could get this over with.

Salty water lapped against her shins, staining her dark clothing with even pitcher black. She stood back to back with Vladimir, eyes peering into the darkness. Blurry forms dashed from behind the beach house and from the nearby treeline. The werewolves were here.

They pounced into the water, splashing and forming a wide circle around the pair. From out of their shadowy silhouettes shone two yellow eyes each, and their teeth glistened in the moonlight. Ravenna and Vladimir pressed their backs together, as they had so many times before. It was routine by now. When Vladimir had mentioned smelling werewolf odor on the streets of Marseille, and noticed hateful eyes staring at them from windows and dark alleys, she knew then that they would have to fight once more. But now there were so many. Ravenna wondered if all their hunting had given them a reputation. Certainly, the lycanthropes would not send so many against just any vampires. 

The werewolves circled them on all fours, growling. After a minute, one stood on its hindlegs and approached, claws bared.

“So,” it snarled, saliva dripping off the sides of its mouth. “Our hunt has finally borne fruit. Look, brothers and sisters. The infamous wolf-killers, surrounded.”

“Don’t be so proud. Drawing you here was our intent,” Vladimir answered. “More of your hides to add to the tally.”

The beast howled, slicing its claws over the water’s surface. “Bravado! Our fallen will be avenged. My name is Lox, and it will be known throughout the whole world that it was my clan who slew the infamous Dracula and his harlot!”

Ravenna winced, momentarily overcome with shock and pity for this poor creature. Dracula… Vladimir never did tell her why the name sparked such rage within him, but even she was forbidden from uttering it. Before she even turned to look at him, Vladimir was already charging into the fray. He let loose such a bellow that water blasted out in every direction, knocking the wolves onto their backs. And then he was upon their prone forms, bloody giblets flying into the air as he ripped into their hides.

Soon the water came crashing back. The farther wolves were the first to recover, and pounced through the sloshing waves towards Vladimir. Ravenna ran to intercept them, fangs bared. She slammed into one, and they rolled across the shallows until she came out on top. She plunged her face into the salty murk and bit hard. A stifled howl bubbled from underneath and was promptly silenced as she emerged, spitting out bones and foul meat.

A claw swiped at her, and she jerked back just in time for the razor edges to slice off the tips of her hair. Dark forms leapt in from all sides, snarling and barking. Ravenna jumped high into the air, her would-be assailants tumbling into one another.

From that vantage point she twisted and turned, surveying the terrain. Much to her relief, Vladimir was every bit as ferocious as he had always been. Near a dozen werewolves lay strewn about him, floating in the inky water. He dodged and blocked every attempt at his life, using severed limbs and heads as shields.

Ravenna made landfall near him. Her heart thundered in her chest, driving manic instinct through her limbs. Every lycanthrope that dared charge at her was met with a lightning barrage of bone-shattering strikes. Curses and howls mixed with the splashing of waves and the ripping of muscle. 

All the while, claws and teeth raked her flesh and tore her dress, yet Ravenna only pushed aside the pain and continued her assault. Wounds could be tended to. Agony could be endured. But death — there was no recovering from that. It was a fight for survival now, a contest of strength and will. She was keen on proving theirs was superior to any challenge the world could throw at them.

In the primal tumult of combat, Ravenna focused utterly on all foes before her. Her hearing and sight were clear and blessed by her very nature as a creature of the night. Yet she could not account for all things.

A tight grip wrapped around her ankle, pulling her under. She kicked into the muck, but the clawed hand held fast. Then she was turned around, pressed against the seafloor by heavy paws. The eyes of a werewolf glared at her from above the water. The silhouette of its other hand blotted out the moon as it reached down and clamped around her face.

She shrieked and bit, chewing into the beast’s leathery palm. Muffled roars reached her ears, but still she was held down in the dark. She gasped for breath but sucked in blood and saltwater instead.

For the first time in a long time, she panicked. All thoughts and sensations began to leave her.

Each second felt like an eternity in the black.

Her arms were getting heavier. Colder…

Another howl pierced the depths, and the wolf’s ironclad grip pulled her out of the water before loosening. Its claws scraped deep gashes across her face, but the pain of it was nothing compared to the bliss of lung-fulls of air. She hacked and gasped, unable to fathom the world beyond the spasms in her chest.

The next thing she knew, she was in Vladimir’s arms. His ragged form was a blur, her eyes stinging from the salt. One of them couldn’t open. The werewolves’ howls grew distant, though she could make out the voice of that mutt Lox cursing them. Yet Vladimir’s steps were slow, deliberate. 

“Yes, run! Run!” he called out. 

“We won?” Ravenna asked.

Vladimir smiled down at her, his lips dripping with sanguine liquid. “Naturally. It was a good fight. Some fled, though. Cowards.”

“Shame. But they managed some serious wounds this time,” she replied. A spike of pain lanced from her scarred face. Hot liquid ran down her sealed eye.

The moaning winds fell away as he carried her into their beach house, up the stairs, and into their room. He laid her gently on the bed. Her body itched all over as her flesh began to mend. Still Vladimir took it upon himself to care for her, pouring clean water over her wounds before drying them with cloth. And all of that with a coat ripped to shreds and his own wounds dripping. Seeing his body exposed in the wan moonlight revived her more quickly than any regenerative powers could. Tingling warmth coursed through her.

“Enough fussing over me,” she said, and reached for his sleeve despite the pain. She pulled him down, nodding to the empty space beside her. 

Vladimir laid down, letting out a heavy sigh.

“They’ll talk about this for months to come. Such humiliation,” he said.

“With luck, more will come again,” Ravenna said.

“And we’ll put them to an early grave.”

“Together. Just as we always do.”

“Together.” He nodded. His confident smile wavered. Ravenna worried, but all that dissipated as he reached for hands and held them tightly. With the cold water dried from her skin, the warmth of his touch once more stole her attention. She turned onto her side, looking deep into his eyes.

“Those creatures interrupted me earlier,” he said. “I thank them, though. Their attempts on our life highlight the need to ensure we say what we need to say. So… I’ll say it. Ravenna Romaine…” She shuddered at the way he said her name. “I love you.”

Ravenna did not hold back her smile, though it ached her jaw and stretched her scars. “And I love you too, Vladimir. From this night until our last night.”

A sparkle lit up in his eyes. Pure, unfettered joy. The happiest she had ever seen him. He put a hand behind her head and leaned in, pressing his lips against hers. Ravenna shuddered at the touch, their hot breaths caressing each other’s faces. That moment could have lasted forever, and she would not have cared.

But it did not last. But no, it was not a bad thing. Her heart started to pick up pace. And she could feel it in his chest, too. Their lips pressed together tighter, their hands wandering over each other’s heads, neck, shoulders… and soon over their barely clothed bodies. Vladimir’s hands wandered down her sides, down to her waist. Then, boldly, he slipped his fingers down between her legs. 

She gasped, pulling away to see the man smirking. And as he began to stroke her, Ravenna’s grip tightened on him. She wanted this, and he knew it.

In an instant he was above her, ripping the last of his shirt off. Then he laid his hands upon her heaving chest and tore her garments off, too.

Ravenna laid her arms on her side and opened her legs — as clear an invitation as she could muster.

“Do not be gentle,” she said.

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The True Heir

A moment of peace, that’s all Rhea wanted. Wandering in the forest she took a few calming, deep breaths as she paused at the bank, overlooking the smooth water. The gentle breeze of the Otherworld brushed her hair off her shoulders as she lost focus. 

Leaning against the tree nearby, he watched her and felt a laugh almost burst free. This is the princess… she was tiny.

Blinking back to the present, Rhea looked around, spotting a strange man leaning on a nearby tree. She turned, hand on the hilt of Soluis. 

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” She asked the intruder defensively.

Cain didn’t move, gazing at the diminutive princess from head to toe, thoroughly unimpressed despite knowing exactly what the handle she had her hand on turned into.

“I asked you a question!” Rhea’s voice rang louder in command, taking a step towards him. His stature didn’t phase her, however, his demeanor was infuriating.

Cain still didn’t move, but he spoke in a low, blank voice. “You know, from the stories they told of you, I thought you would be taller.”

“Size is irrelevant, sir. Ask Balor.” She scoffed. “Now, answer me or face my wrath.”

As she mentioned Balor, Cain’s eyes flashed a fiery orange for a split second, but he simply smiled at her. “Balor was weak. He let himself be bested by an old man and a girl.”

“Girl?” her voice dripped with contempt. “Who do you think you are talking to?” Taking another step towards the seemingly arrogant fool in her midst. 

As she stepped closer, Cain shifted from leaning slouched against the tree to standing upright, which put him a full foot taller than the woman, which seemed to have little effect. He smiled, and said quietly. “You first.”

Gazing up at the man, Rhea glared. “Apparently, you know that answer, so why should I have to reply? Besides, this is my land and I asked first, sir.”

“Okay… You’re right. I know who exactly you are. And I have to say, I’m not impressed. Not if you are really the one who blinded Balor.”

“Frankly, I don’t care if you are impressed or not. You know this is my kingdom and will answer my query.”

“Your kingdom? I was under the impression that Nuada still lived.”

Sighing, Rhea stared the man down, her irritation growing as thoughts of her grandfather’s conditions crossed her mind. She took a centering breath, “He is, however, this will by mine one day. I shall protect it from,” She looked the man up and down with disdain, “intruders like you.”

Cain couldn’t help it. He began to laugh. It was the first genuine laugh he had given since he had left the ice under Antarctica. But her words had been so blindly misguided that it burst free.

“And what pray-tell is so funny, good sir? I do not find your presence amusing.”

“I apologise. But, you are aware that male heirs come first? In succession, I mean.”

“Yes, I am aware of how the damn succession works. But from where I sit, I have yet to see or hear of one.” Her fury seething, “You still haven’t answered my question. Who are you?” Her words metered and precise. 

Cain saw it in her eyes. She genuinely had no idea who she was looking at. “Let me tell you a little story… you Otherworlders are fond of them, from what I hear.”

Crossing her arms, Rhea sighed, “As long as your truth comes with it.”

“Very well… it goes like this. One day, Nuada Silverhand and his wife conceived twins… two girls. The oldest, Valyria, and the youngest, Aetheria. Have you heard this before?”

“Of course, Aetheria is my mother. Get on with it, my patience is wearing thin.”

Completely unfazed, Cain carried on. “Now, their mother died in childbirth just after Aetheria was delivered, and the two girls grew up to be polar opposites – Aetheria, all sweetness, kindness, loyalty to her father. Valyria, not so much. She rebelled, wanted to be her own girl. Much like you, apparently. Marrying a human…” he smiled, “your grandfather must be so proud.”

Releasing a hand with a flourish, Rhea impatiently urged him to continue.

“Now, when they were young girls, around the same age you are now, the kingdoms were at war, and Valyria heard tales of the dreaded Demon King, and became curious. So one day, she runs off and enters Fomoria, not to be seen for centuries. Many assume her dead, that she had been killed by Balor himself.” Cain moved to sit by the water’s edge.

Following him to the bank, Rhea remained standing over him as he continued. His casual attitude only made her anger grow.

“Now, what your history books get wrong at this point, is that she wasn’t killed. She fell in love.”

“In love?” She scoffed. “Fairy tales.”

“Quite literally.” He chuckled. “But still, the truth. You see, Balor and Valyria reached the point where their relationship could no longer remain romantic. And so, they consummated their love.”

“You’ve got to fucking kidding me!” Rhea spat, placing her hand back on the hilt of her sword. “How dare you be so blasphemous to my family?”

“Blasphemous? Then it must be heresy to admit that their consummation bore a child.”

Pulling Soluis from its sheath, she threatened him with the illuminated point. “I will cut you down right here and now if you don’t stop telling these lies and tell me who the hells you are!”

Sighing with irritation, Cain stood back up, and lifted his shirt, exposing his toned abdomen. “Go right ahead.”

“You have a death wish, then?” Rhea questioned, the anger boiled within her like an ember. “You know I will.”

“I would expect nothing different. In fact,” Cain slid his shirt off. “Cut me down. Do it. I’m an intruder in your lands, and I deserve death. Do it.”

In a single, swift motion, Rhea brought the blade down on Cain, the sword slicing through him where he stood. She stood in awe as he barely flinched, despite the blow that would have taken a normal man down.

Cain felt the blade slice all the way from his shoulder to his hip, and felt the burn of the blade as it passed through his flesh. Just barely, he stayed on his feet.

“Okay… that one hurt.” He growled.

“How the fuck are you still standing?!” Rhea exclaimed. “Who the hell are you? What the fuck are you?”

Cain gazed her straight in the eyes as the wound on his chest knitted back together, as if there had been nothing there at all.

Raising Solius again, seething with rage, she struck at him again. Her body shook as it struck his outstretched hand, catching it mid swing.

Cain stared at the blade, then at Rhea, “You want to know what I am? I, girl, am the born child of Balor and Valyria,” he snatched the blade and threw it clear across the lake, “which means I am the first male heir of Nuada, making me the heir to Otherworld.”

Shock coursed through her as she gaped at him, “More lies! How do you expect me to believe such an incredulous story?”

Cain gazed at her. Closing his eyes, he drew on the hereditary power his father had given him, and let it flow free. An orange glow emanated from his skin, which turned an ashen charcoal grey. He gazed at her with molten orange eyes, which were the exact same shade as Balor’s.

Dropping her hands to her sides in awe, watching the transformation before her, she knew in that moment he was telling the truth. Those eyes…those eyes were exactly like the ones she remembered so vividly in Balor. 

Taking deep breaths, Cain reined in the demonic power and resumed his normal state. Smiling at Rhea, he took a step forward. “You took my father’s sight, princess. And I promise you, that one day, I am going to do the same to the one person that means the most to you.”

Not one to back down, Rhea stood her ground, despite Cain’s threat, her mind racing to retaliate. “Not if I have anything to do with it.” She replied coldly, not allowing her internal fear to show.

“Rhea, you hit me with your best weapon. You failed. You have absolutely nothing that can stop me. If I wished to kill you right now, name one thing you could do to prevent me tearing your head off.”

Rhea growled at the threat. “So what’s stopping you, Prince?” 

“My word. I told my mother, that you are not going to be killed. Not by me. Apparently, she still believes that we can be one happy family, even though we both know that will never happen.”

Rhea scoffed, “that is the first truth you have uttered that we can agree on.”

Cain shuddered. “Ugh. I hate agreeing with people.” He snarled. “Makes my skin crawl…” he told her, then held his hand out. The Soluis handle flashed across the lake into his hand. “You may want this back.”

Rhea gasped as she watched the sword return and snatched it from his outstretched hand. She knew Soluis only responded to the heirs of Nuada. He was telling the truth and it made her heart sink. Sheathing it once again she queried, “So where do we go from here? Clearly, we are and will always be, at odds and vying for the throne.”

“Have I said I want the throne? My mistake.”

“You claimed yourself as heir, what else could you want? Why else are you here?”

“I wanted you to be aware that you are not what you claim to be, Rhea. And you should know that if I ever wish the throne to be mine, you have zero chance of denying me my right, physically or legitimately.” He told her as he pulled his shirt back on. 

Bile rose in her throat as the fear of her reality struck a cord deep within her. Unwilling to back down or show him this, she growled, “This is and always will be my land and my home. Your threats mean nothing to me.”

Cain looked her from head to toe. “It is good to be angry, princess. Angry and afraid keep you alive when talent and shiny swords fail you. And make no mistake. If we cross paths, again, they will fail you. And by the way… my name, is Cain.” He told her, then turned on his heel and began to walk away.

Rhea watched him go, her mind racing with the revelation that had just taken place. She had to speak to her grandfather, and soon. She knew he didn’t have long and she needed to know how he would have her react.

Free Will and Happiness

I looked at her, waiting patiently for her answer. She was biting her lip, endearing in a way, but it belied her nerves at what was going to come out of her mouth, truth or not.

“Ok, so…I told you before I had been looking for you for a while.” She paused again, still unsure of her next words. 

“Yes. You told me that. But how long? A month? A week?”

“Try a decade, Angel.” She stopped short.

“A decade…” I frowned, shocked. “Why the hell were you looking for me for ten years? You are young… and you haven’t seen me before. If you had seen me, you wouldn’t be here.”

She looked away, “Yes I would. I’m not ready for that yet, but just believe me when I say I owe you and the only thing I could think of was to offer myself to you as payment. Okay? I just can’t right now.”

I gazed at her, anger building inside me a little. “You are aware I could make you tell me, aren’t you?”

Snapping her head back at me, she replied, “You wouldn’t?”

“Wouldn’t I? You are hiding something from me. And If I am going to keep you with me as my companion, don’t you think I deserve it?”

“My truth?” She shook her head gently, “can’t you understand I just can’t? I’m not ready. Give me that, okay?”

I gazed at her. I could hear the heartbreak in her voice, the pain in her, and I felt my own unbeating heart go out to her. “You are right, Fenella. I wouldn’t do that to you. Never to you.”

“Thank you Angel. I’ll tell you when I am ready. I promise.”

“I should hope so. I hate having to make people into thralls. It takes the fun and the life out of a person.”

“Why? I freely offered.” She searched my face with a soft expression, seeking understanding. Something ununderstanding behind her expression.

“Yes, you freely offered. But people often lie to get out of obligations. And you being a thrall is not high on my wish list.”

“No obligation to avoid, I assure you. Just a debt owed.” 

This raised other questions, but one more than others sprang to mind. “Why do you talk of obligation? Do you not know what a thrall is? Obligation has nothing to do with it.”

“To feed and serve you? How is that not repayment for a debt owed?”

I leaned up, looking straight into her eyes, now suddenly knowing she was unaware of my real point. “Fenella, when I speak of making you a thrall, it doesn’t mean you are a permanent donor.”

Her brow furrowed as she looked at me, “That’s how the movies show it.”

“Movies? Mov- Fenella, a thrall is a slave. A permanent, hollow, mindless drone that has no free will. No mind of its own beyond what its master wishes. A slave, Fenella.”

Her eyes lost focus for a moment before she blinked and looked back at me. “I still wouldn’t have changed my offer, Angel. I am glad that that isn’t what you offered me.”

“I wouldn’t have offered it. You wouldn’t have had a damn choice in the matter. You would have had one thought and one only – to make me happy. To do what I wanted, regardless of what that was.”

“I get that. And I am grateful that you saw something more in me than that. I just…don’t”

“Don’t what?”

“I was and still am willing to be whatever you want from me. Whatever you see in me, I don’t see it.” She shrugged as if this was still a light matter to her. “I am yours, freely given.”

“Freely given…” I muttered. “Freely given? You give away your body to me like it is a gift, something worthless to you. Why do you see me still as something more than you? What makes your body worth less than mine?”

She laid her head back on my chest with a sigh, “It is. It’s the only thing I have to offer you in repayment for the debt I owe you, Angel.”

I sat upright and took hold of her shoulders, sitting her up and taking a firm but painless grip of her jaw, forcing her to look me in the eyes.

“You. Owe. Me. Nothing. Now stop saying it before I do turn you into a thrall!”

She gazed back at me,something crossed behind her eyes I couldn’t quite put my finger on as she nodded slowly. “If that’s what you want, I’ll stop mentioning it.”

In that moment, I wondered if she had been abused, and immediately took my hand off of her jaw. “Fenella… what I want… I want you to listen very carefully.”

She nodded, gaging my reaction with a wary expression.

“Are you listening?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Number one, I don’t do thralls. That is too much like slavery and…. never mind. I am not going to make you a thrall. Ever.”

“Okay.” Keeping her answers short, almost obediently so, like she was afraid to anger me.

As I gazed into her docile, almost subservient eyes, I decided to tell her the truth. “Number two, when you came in here and offered me your blood, I felt something different. For the first time in three decades, I felt the pull of one that meant far more than just a donor.”

“In me? How could you see anything more in me? I am nobody. A nothing.”

“Stop saying that.”

“Yes sir. Sorry.” She broke her gaze, “I did tell you I would stop.” Unspent tears threatened at the corners of her eyes.

I took another, far more gentle grip of her chin and looked into her eyes once more, my voice soft and low. “Number three, this body, this heart, the soul that lies deep inside… it is yours, and in turn I will protect and cherish the woman I love. I will literally give you the world.”

The tears broke free as I spoke, closing her eyes for a moment as my words seemed to sink in. She reopened them, searching my face for the truth of them. 

I gazed into her eyes, and with a small smile, I said quietly, “And last, Fenella, I showed you who I am, who I really am, these scars… you are the first one in a century that has seen them…. because I love, trust and believe in you, and will never abuse or leave you.” I leaned in and gave her a soft, romantic kiss that I poured all my emotion into, before adding, “I love you, Fenella….”

She returned the kiss and laid her head back on my chest, replying softly, “I love you, too Angel. I didn’t think I would, but I do.” She sat up, looking at me before she changed the subject. “Angel, all that shopping, and hearing all those…heartbeats have made me hungry. Can I feed from you?”

I gazed at her, and an idea occurred, making me smile. “I have a better idea.”

From The Ashes – Magdalena

Guest author:Renee Christian

I hadn’t been home long. My ambassadorship had ended and I returned home to my husband. The fear was not unfounded as I put my hair up and dressed for dinner. Taking the slowest path possible to the formal dining room, I joined Cesare, who was already seated at the head of the table with a scowl on his face. The tension was palpable as I scooted in my chair across from him, avoiding his gaze. 

“You’re late.” He growled. 

I glanced up at him, then back at my plate, pushing the food around. My stomach was in knots, so I wasn’t eating much. Taking a small bite here and there to appease him, we sat in almost complete silence. The clatter of silverware on dinner ware was all you could hear as we sat through course after course. As soon as the desert was over, I excused myself and made my way to my bedroom, turning in early for the night.

I closed the door and started changing into my night clothes when he burst in and pummeled me across the face. I flew back from the force and hit my head on the wooden bed frame. My head spun and ached as bile rose in my throat.  I attempted to stand as Cesare kicked me in the stomach, throwing me back to the floor. I was slightly proud as I didn’t throw up this time, just as his foot made contact again, sending me careening across the room. In a flash, he was on me again, grabbing me by my hair as he struck me, throwing me into the wardrobe with a crack of my ribs. 

Struggling to breath, he lifted me like a rag dog and threw me back towards the bed. Still reeling from the blows, I was only semi-aware as he ripped my clothes off. His cold breath on my neck as he growled into my ear how long it had been and that I owed him a good fucking. Another crack rang in my ears as, in his haste to disrobe me, he cranked my arm back, dislocating and breaking my shoulder. 

Cognisance from the pain in my shoulder bringing me around a little more, I opened my eyes wide as I realized what he was doing next. My stomach churned as he plunged himself into me with a force strong enough to move the bed I was draped across. I couldn’t take it anymore and cried out, resulting in another swift blow to the head. Stars crossed my vision as I blacked out only to wake up moments later to the squelching sounds of him fucking me mercilessly, reguardless of how many times he had already came inside me. I faded in and out of consciousness as he continued to reclaim me as his over the next few hours. His wife, his toy, his submissive, HIS.

I woke up as I heard someone enter my room, whimpering, I drew into myself. My entire body screamed in agony with every muscle I used. Mason’s large form loomed over me as he knelt behind me with a calming shush. He picked a piece of blood matted hair off my face as he gingerly rolled me over. 

“Shhh, I’m here, Magda. I’ve got you now. He’s passed out in his room.” 

His strong arms wrapped around me as he lifted me onto my bed. I bit my lip in anguish as I tried to stay quiet through the pain. He set my shoulder for what seemed like the tenth time as I held a pillow to my face to muffle the screams. I must have blacked out again, because the next thing I remember Mason was cleaning the blood off of me with a cool, damp cloth. He dressed me slowly and gently before picking me up again, inciting a gasp from me as he carried me out of my room and down the stairs. 

I hid my battered face against his chest as he carried me past the other staff. Some appeared to be trying to go wake Cesare while others were trying to stop the unruly staff. He made his way down the stairwell and out the back door to an awaiting car. He slid me into the back seat and quickly ran around to the other side, taking my head in his lap. 

“Mason, they will tell him. Why? Why did you risk yourself for me?”

He caressed my face, shushing me and he rubbed my cheek gently. “Don’t worry about me, Magda, you have enough to worry about. I’ll be ok”

I rested my head against him as I had nothing left to fight with, dozing back out to the hum of the car. I woke up again as Mason slipped out from under my head, climbing back out of the car. We had arrived at the harbor and Mason climbed around the other side of the car, helping me out and into the awaiting yacht. Mason got me settled, below deck, kissed my softly on the cheek and spoke with the captain. Watching him, my heart longed to tell him what this meant to me, but I was unable to find the words. He came to my bedside to tell me goodbye, “Now, I have this all taken care of. I want you to go make a new life for yourself, okay?”

“Mason,” I reached up to caress his face, the pain in my broken rib flared and I gasp, pulling my hand back to my side. He placed his large, rough hand on mine and tried to shush me. Shaking my head, I continued, “No Mason, Listen. I am afraid of what Cesare will do to you when you return. Why don’t you come with me?”

Mason held my hand gently, “Magda, he can do what he likes. As long as you are safe and away from him, I will take what comes. It’s worth it…you’re  worth it.”

I sighed, knowing his mind was set. “Very well,” I said with a nod. “I’ll..” a burning fire ripped through me as my bones began to knit back together. Mason shifted on the bed, resting his forehead on mine. 

“You’ll get through this, I know it. And by the time you get to America, you will be whole and strong again.” 

Mason left with but a nod to the captain and I heard the motor start. The voyage was painful, but Mason was right. By the time I made it to America, my bones and bruises were healed and I had found a new resolve. I emerged from the yacht a new woman. I assumed my role as a leader of the house. 

Sauntering into the New York office, I claimed my rightful place, second in command, and quickly stepped up and commanded the area nicely. Within a matter of weeks, it came time for the annual meeting of the House Heads, a vote was to be made on governing positions. I contacted Vivian Sanders, my head of house, to enter my name in the ballot. To my surprise, I won by a landslide. I was the new Elder of the entire American Region.

A few months later, I was opening the door to my office, when I saw the silhouette of his form as he stood overlooking the packed city below. My trepidation outweighed my interest, so I announced my arrival with a question, “They’re like scurrying little ants, aren’t they?”

His head turned sharply as I interrupted his train of thought, a small smile played at the corners of his mouth as he took me in. Taking a deep breath, I centered myself, regaining control and continued towards him, hand outstretched in greeting.

“Indeed. But I was thinking more along the lines of sheep, Mrs Ravellino.” He met me and gripped my hand firmly as the shadows receded, his face came into full view. I caught my breath for a second, his words bringing me back. “Elias, Elias Buckley. Pleased to meet you.”

“Magdalena Price.” I said sharply at the mention of Cesare’s surname.

Releasing my hand, he walked me around the table and pulled the seat on the other side of the desk out, gesturing for me to sit, which made me shiver a little at the old fashioned courtesy. I sat, watching him as he made his way around the desk. He sat across from me, resting his elbows on the armrests, steepling his fingers together as he seemed to stare me down. 

“So, Ms. Price. Tell me about your stats and any issues you have encountered since taking head.”

We continued the meeting for a good while before he stood to leave. 

“So Ms. Price, why don’t you come with me tonight and show me around your city?” He asked with an inquisitive tilt of his head. 

I flushed at the implication in his voice, “Well, Mr. Buckley, it is a mighty tempting offer. I may know of a place that showcases my city.” I replied as I stood to walk him to the door. 

“Say 8 o’clock? I’m at the Ritz.”, He stopped at the door, towering over me once again brought the burning fear to the pit of my stomach I hadn’t felt in nearly a year. I nodded silently with a faux grin plastered on my face as he left. Closing the door behind him, I rested my forehead against the cool wood, taking a deep breath.

An Enjoyable Night – Ezio

Guest author: Tyler J.E. Simpson

Ezio Lunati – An Enjoyable Night

The young couple stumbled away, holding onto the vials of dark crimson fluid as if they were more precious than gold. The dimly lit Parisian backstreets bore the company of this kind for some time now. People would come, pay a small fortune for this substance, and be back for more in no time at all. The substance that had been claimed to cure disease, increase vitality, and in some cases, bring an extra spark to a couple’s love life.

The substance in question was vampire blood, highly illegal. Not in terms of human laws, however, but the laws of secrecy amongst vampiric kin. This was a truth known to any who saw fit to call themselves a vampire, and a transgression that warranted harsh punishment. The couple stumbled past a figure that walked the main roads, nearly dropping the vials of blood while they giggled and spoke amongst themselves.

Ezio Lunati had been tracking this strange operation for months. Elegant, raven black hair and fair skin adorned the man, dressed in a fine, black suit and shoes only a rich man could afford. He was charming, exquisitely so. Not many women from the streets of Paris to the canals of Venice could resist giving the man a second gaze and the occasional wink of two.

“Oh, so sorry, sir.” The woman giggled, eyeing up and down his alluring physique.

“Nessun problema.” He spoke politely, even his voice dripping with charm. His eyes fixated upon the vials, he pointed to one of them and smiled. His eyes glowed a deep red, his voice going even deeper. “Mi scusi, signorina. May I purchase one of those vials from you?” The woman was hypnotized, her hands moving of their own accord as they slid all but one of the vials into her partner’s arms and exchanged the one for a few coins.

“Grazie.” He nodded, still smiling. He turned down the alley, taking a deep breath through his nose as he felt the air around him. He closed his eyes, allowing his other senses to tell him all that he needed to know. “Two men, besides the couple, and another woman somewhere inside keeping watch.” His attention now turned to the side entrance of what looked like a moneylender’s office. He approached the door and gripped the handle, forcing it open and stepping inside. Immediately he began hearing voices, the sounds of men laughing and a woman sobbing.

“Hey, give her some more!” He heard one speak, followed by the sound of a thick liquid being poured onto a surface and then the sound of gagging that followed. This would not stand, Ezio thought as he marched through the empty hallway and gazed through the window of one of the small offices. Sure enough, three men stood over a young woman, her clothes torn and face drenched in vampiric blood. Her eyes had gone black, and the veins in her neck began to expand as if they could not handle the strain of the blood. Ezio’s own blood was boiling, as he reached for the door handle to the office.

Ezio didn’t open the door. He tore it from its hinges and tossed it towards the largest of the men in the room. The splintered wood found its home in the man’s neck and chest, killing him on impact. In a state of shock and fear, the other men pulled their guns from their belts and opened fire on Ezio. The sound of gunshots and the smell of gunpowder quickly filled the room, and when the last bullet had been fired Ezio remained standing.

“Run, bella.” Ezio pulled one of the bullets from his neck, licking his own blood from the metal exterior. “You don’t wish to see this.” The woman stammered out of the room, still in shock, but grateful to be rescued nevertheless. The two men backed away, their hands trembling before dropping their guns. 

“W-wait.  Please, have mercy! We were only following-” A crimson and black flash shot across the room, and the hand of Ezio Lunati found itself a home within the chest of the first criminal. He tore his fist free, shaking the blood from his sleeve and staring down the other man. His boyish charm and alluring demeanor hid a terrifying truth. A feral animal who breaks free when faced with those who would exert power over others to turn their lives into a living hell.

“Dear God, what are you?!” The other man fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face at the sight of the two men butchered beyond any hope of survival.

“Drop the damn act, pig. I know who you are.” Ezio spat, baring his fangs and glaring at the kneeling man. “Frederico Ricci.” The other man’s eyes went wide, before his mouth began curving into a smile. A long, elegant coat and a pair of expensive glasses adorned him, covering a luxurious suit and lavish pair of trousers and shoes. He smiled wider, and a pair of fangs exposed themselves proudly while his eyes turned to a sinister crimson glow.

Frederico Ricci, an Elder vampire, and up until this night a merchant dealing in the sale of vampiric blood. Financing the entire operation in Europe from his place of residence in Paris, Ezio had all but confirmed these facts. To sell the blood of vampires was an incredible breach of their laws of secrecy. Had vampires been exposed outright to the world for all to see, then humans very well could band together to call for their extermination. On the other hand, a war could break out that involved humans being the ones to die out, thus leaving vampires without a proper source of sustenance. Secrecy has a way of eliminating such troublesome situations.
    “How long have you known?” Frederico’s voice was colder now, so sure of himself as he rose up to his feet. 

“I’ve known for the past three days. Following your trail proved difficult at first, but when luck favored me enough to allow for my acquisition of some of your “product” I, well, I simply had finally reached the end of my tiresome journey.”

“So you have. Tell me, boy, did that whore put you up to-” The words barely crossed his lips before Ezio hoisted him from the floor and slammed his back into the wall. The side of the room collapsed, leaving a series of splinters and metal lodged within Frederico’s body.

“A bit of parting advice, puttana.” Ezio snarled, holding Frederico by the hair and hoisting his face higher. He could see the veins in his neck, bulging and stretched as Ezio kept him firmly in his grip. An Elder was strong, to be sure, but Ezio Lunati was a monster on another level. “Never insult the Mother in front of me.” He opened his mouth wide, his fangs extending like two long blades, and sank into the neck of Frederico Ricci. He didn’t even have time to scream or plead for his life, the blood pouring onto the floor like water. Ezio felt the man twitch and squirm, all to no avail. Frederico breathed one final time before death took him, all blood and power drained from his body.

Ezio released his fangs from the Elder’s neck, watching him collapse to the floor in a pool of blood. He reached into his suit pocket, procuring the vial and opening it. Ezio dumped the contents onto the body of Frederico Ricci, a final insult to the man who very nearly cast the first stone that might have damned their entire race on the continent. Ezio knelt on one knee over the man, looking down on his corpse.

“Riposare in pace.” When all was said and done, and such crimes had been punished, Ezio Lunati was still a respectable, charming man. He walked out of the moneylender’s office building, pondering where he would go to procure a new suit. He couldn’t exactly wander into a store this late at night. Even more so considering he was covered in the blood of his enemies.

“How many times must I remind you to not go so crazy, my dear?” A woman’s voice caught his attention, his gaze turning to the left and spying a beautiful figure in the moonlight. It was Gaia, the woman he adored, wearing a fine silk dress and jacket. He practically leapt from the top of the small stairway and landed directly in front of the beautiful woman.

“How did you find me?” Ezio grinned childishly as if the pair had been playing some game of hide and seek.

“The stench of blood and the sound of gunshots.” Gaia shrugged, forcing Ezio to scratch the back of his head in embarrassment. “Anyway, that aside, I’ve got a bit of a proposal for you.”

“Yes?” This was certainly a surprise, Ezio thought.

“Sun won’t be up for quite a while. Care for a stroll around Rome?” Now she was speaking his language. It would be nice to get out of France for a while and enjoy a bit of his home country. Especially with such pleasurable company.

“Quite the proposal. Any particular occasion?” Ezio couldn’t help but pry. Gaia merely smiled and shrugged.

“I’m in the mood for a little romance. First thing’s first, though. Let’s get you out of those clothes.” Ezio didn’t think twice before unbuttoning his suit, letting the elegant, black jacket slide from his torso and land upon the ground.

“Con piacere, bella.” He spoke seductively. This was going to be an enjoyable night.

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Darkness Incarnate

The battle raged on.

The field was beginning to break apart, such was the strain upon it from the sheer celestial power now waging war.

Zeus hurled the last lightning bolt in his arsenal, and by sheer luck pierced Hel right through her blackened heart, her eyes going wide in shock before she fell back into a chasm that had opened behind her.

Smiling, he took a moment to wipe his brow – which was when a blade slammed through his back and out of his front. Looking down, he saw the shape, and knew exactly what it was.

“Brother…” he gasped, before Hades pulled it free in a torrent of blood. Zeus collapsed to a knee, and Hades stepped in front of him.

“I’m not your brother. I never was. I was a slave, a caretaker to a realm you saw fit to keep me in as long as it caused no trouble, and now I am the one true ruler of both the Overworld and the Underworlds.”

“You think you are fit to rule. You couldn’t even keep your fellow Gods. How many stand with you, Hades?”

“That is irrelevant. There are enough here to put an end to you and all the false rulers that stand in my way.”

Zeus sighed.

“You never could put ego aside. It is a flaw in our family.”

“Maybe. But after today, neither your ego or that of our brother will be a problem, so long as he bends the knee and pledges fealty to the Underworld.”

“To you, you mean…”

“Same difference. Now, do you bend the knee? You might as well. You are already kneeling.”

“I will never bend the knee to you, Hades, so just get it over with.”

“Certainly. Goodbye, brother.”

Hades raised the bident, and prepared to bring it down when a tendril of black smoke plucked it from his hands and dragged it into the chasm.

Zeus looked around, as did Hades.

All over the field, the same thing was happening, the black smoke stealing weapons away and into the void.

Then Zeus saw more of the smoke issuing from the holes in the earth all over the battlefield. Glancing up at Hades, he saw a look of utter shock and horror on his face – and suddenly Zeus knew what was about to come out of the void.

Only one thing terrified Hades.

And it wasn’t him.

Sure enough, Deireadh began to quake, and a great wall of the obsidian smoke erupted from the fissure that had bisected the field, completely halting all of the fighting.

From out of the smoke stepped just five people but it was enough to send a tremor of fear through every combatant.

First was Hypnos, who was smiling widely at the assembled masses. Then came Thanatos and Nemesis, side by side with identical stoic expressions on their faces.

Nyx was next, and she wasn’t alone.

To the horror of Zeus, Erebus came out of the smoke. It was the first time in centuries the father of darkness had appeared, and his presence meant that Nyx was done playing games.

She stepped forward and began to speak.

“Go home. All of you. This petty squabbling of you bickering children has to end. And it will. Now.” Her voice was so dead, it sent shivers down Zeus’s spine.

Osiris raised his spear and threw it, only for it to not even touch Nyx. Erebus glanced at the spear, and a tendril of smoke obliterated the spear before another impaled Osiris through the gut.

Osiris managed one gasp of shock, before the tendril hurled him into the pit. Every set of eyes watched it happen, then turned as one to Nyx.

“I will not say it again. Return to your realms, or face the same. I am past forgiving and I am far past giving second chances. If you raise a hand in hostility, you will be crushed.”

There was no movement on the field for a moment, then the gods began to help one another up and retreat from the field. It was soon empty, except for the Olympians.

Nyx turned her gaze on them, and they began to scatter in the direction of Mount Olympus, or heading into the fissure that went to Tartarus.

Zeus glanced at Hades, who now looked furious. He raised the bident and charged at Nyx.

“You traitorous – ” was all he managed.

Erebus stopped him in his tracks with smoke, pinning him in place, the bident flying through the air into the hands of Nemesis.

Nyx walked over to Hades, who was struggling against his bonds, until Nyx placed a hand on his cheek.

“Hades… of all the people to challenge this family, why you?”

“You turned your back on me.”

“I did not. I am doing what is best for the realms. This war was foolish. And so I am going to end it.”

“You’re going to kill me?”

“No. I am sending you home.” Nyx told him, and turned to Erebus, who promptly threw Hades into the abyss.

Then Nyx turned to Zeus, who froze.

She walked over, and to his surprise, she helped him to his feet.

“Zeus, dear friend. I won’t hurt you, as long as you keep peaceful. Come with me…”

Zeus let himself be led, aware the entire time that Nyx’s husband and children were watching them the entire time. She accompanied him to the border of the field that led to Olympus, where she left him.

“Zeus, do not seek war with the other realms again. You have my word. Any further hostility… I will end all of this.”

Zeus nodded, aware she was utterly serious and very capable of doing so.

“Good. Go home, old friend.”

Nyx placed a hand on his shoulder, then walked back across the field. Zeus began to walk away, but kept glancing back. Then his attention was entirely taken by what Nyx did next.

Nodding to her husband and her son Thanatos, the two of them raised their hands in concert.

A giant column of black smoke issued from the void, soaring high into the air. The fatal touch of Thanatos entwined with the smoke turning it a darker shade of black.

Then Erebus brought his hands down in a sharp motion. The smoke plummeted and slammed into the earth with a shudder that nearly knocked Zeus over.

The entire field, apart from the chunk of earth the five stood upon, crumbled away. Zeus was frozen to the spot, shocked. The only way from realm to realm was gone.

For good.

Nyx gave Zeus one last forbidding glance, and then they were gone. Still rattled, Zeus began the long walk back to Olympus.

A Family Divided

Zeus waited, gazing down at the river nearby.

He was unhappy about being made to pass time while another God, but his brother rarely left the Underworld even to the Mount. So the simple fact he had chosen to come to the field of Deireadh was astonishing.

There was also the fact that the field was miles from the mortal settlements in every direction, so it was perfect for the two brothers to face one another.

A wisp of black smoke slowly drifted passed his face, followed by another, and Zeus rolled his eyes. More of the smoke wafted past his eyes and soon it was forming a thick pool of it nearby.

“I have not got all day, brother.” Zeus yawned, bored of the theatrics. From out of the smoke rose his brother, looking annoyed a little.

“Why so frustrated, brother?”

“You need to keep the Underworlds in line, Hades.”

“And how do you propose I do that, Zeus?” Hades spat. “Nergal and Inizuma are constantly sending raiding parties to Tartarus. And Hel… she is trying to undermine me by proposing I ally with her…”

“Put the bloody half faced witch on a leash, if you have to. If Hel controls the Underworlds, Odin will have all the power he needs to take the Overworld, and I for one have no intentionin bending the knee to that one eyed buffoon.”

“Yes… the mighty Zeus being forced to kneel to another would be such a terrible burden….” Hades replied, amused sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

“Watch your tone, brother. You rule the Fields and the Plains by my leave. If I wish to replace you, I will. Perhaps with Hecate.”

“If you place Hecate in charge of the Underworld, Zeus, the first thing she will do is send Cerberus to eat you. She hates you. No… wait…. hate is far too tame a word for how she feels. Abhorrence, that’s the one.”

“And I don’t care. She answers to you, you answer to me. And if that gigantic mongrel shows up within 100 miles of Olympus, I will have Ares carve it into pieces and sent back to Hecate in a thousand boxes.”

A brief flash of something lit up Hades’ sleet grey eyes, and Zeus smirked.

“You care for the witch….”

“Of course I care for her. It was me that she came to after you threw her from Olympus like a discarded piece of rubbish. She came to me, Zeus, broken, naked and bleeding… I wanted to kill you.”

“Wanted to… I note you no longer want to.”

“Oh I do. Just for other reasons.”

Zeus gazed at his youngest brother, and gave a smug grin. “Believe me, brother, you are welcome to try. Put aside all the petty poisonings and assassins, and try yourself.”

Hades turned away from the water, and looked Zeus from head to toe. A different look from the usual annoyed grimace crossed his face.

“Zeus, if I wanted to kill you, I’d walk up to you while you were sat on that golden throne and slit your throat. Those assassination attempts were not of my doing. You know full well from our youth… I do things myself.”

As he spoke, he drew the bident from behind his back, the two pronged spear extending magically. Zeus conjured a thunderbolt, ready to throw it.

“So you finally attempt it do you? You crawl from that wretched pit and try to usurp the throne.”

“To Tartarus with the throne. I just want to make you scream for my mercy, dear brother.”

“Then try, Hades. Allow me to send you back to your decaying cesspool of a realm with your tail between your legs.”

Pre-empting the offense of Hades, Zeus threw the bolt, electricity lighting it up from within as it flashed through the air. Hades swiped it out of the air with the bident, then quickly closed the gap and thrusted the dual prongs towards Zeus’s throat.

Conjuring another bolt, Zeus parried the blow an inch from his neck, the lightning sparking in the air and snaking around the bident.

Hades dropped it as the volts coursed through him, but caught it and slashed it across Zeus’s face. The Underworld magic in the tips seared a thick welt across the cheek and mouth of Zeus, who staggered back.

Hades kept up the offense, Zeus forced to slowly give up ground under the constant swipes and thrusts Hades was aiming at him. As he parried and blocked the blows, he heard a sound he knew all too well.

Water was rushing, the sound growing louder and louder. The increasing volume meant the amount of water was increasing too. Zeus also noticed the slowly darkening sky.

Hades took advantage and took his legs out from under him. Holding Zeus at spear point, the prongs pressing into his throat, Hades smiled.

“Bend the knee, or die, brother, because I will – ” Hades suddenly stopped, having suddenly noticed the shadow that was now over them.

He looked up, and the smile vanished completely. “Oh…” he muttered, his tone suddenly one of utter dread.

Zeus followed the gaze and felt the exact same consuming feeling of ominous foreboding.

The river was now a colossal wall of water, having risen high enough while they were fighting to now blot out the light from the sun.

As if it had been waiting for them both to acknowledge it, the wave broke, the unfathomably gigantic tidal wave crashing down across the field, slamming into the two brothers with bone pulverising force.

They were swept across the plain, finally washing up on the other side of it from the river. Zeus pulled himself to his knees, coughing and sputtering. A few feet away, Hades was doing the same.

He looked up, and saw their brother Poseidon walking to them, his trident in hand. He suddenly threw it, and there was a gasp of shock from Hades.

Zeus glanced around, and saw the bident pinned to the floor between the prongs of the trident, inches from the outstretched hand of Hades.

“What is the bloody matter with you two idiots? We cannot fight like this, not now when we have so many enemies outside of our kingdom.”

“This doesn’t concern you, Poseidon.”

“Of course if concerns me. Your petty squabbling affects our entire kingdom, in the Overworld and the Underworlds, Hades. You call yourself Kings… grow up and act like it! If we do not put on a united front against the other kingdoms, they will divide us and they will crush us.”

“Go and find a mermaid to screw!” Hades snapped. Poseidon stepped towards him and punched him in the face.

“Grow. Up. You are king of the Underworld, Hades. A king. You need to realize that while we have our differences, we are brothers. We have to be prepared to defend one another, not be trying to give each other an early grave.”

Hades didn’t answer, giving Zeus a side long glance, then stood, looking ashamed of himself. He walked over to Zeus and extended his hand. With the slightest of hesitations, Zeus took the hand.

Hades pulled him to his feet and gazed into Zeus’s eyes. “Our brother is right, and I am sorry. We need to put our damn differences aside. This can be settled when we have peace in the Realms. Peace?”

Zeus punched him. Hades reeled back, and Poseidon bellowed, “Zeus!!”

“What the hell was that?” Hades snarled.

“That’s for scarring my face.”

Hades glared at him, then paused and nodded. “I deserved that.” He reached out a hand, and Zeus shook it.

“From this moment forward, we will be a family once again. We will safeguard not only ours but each other’s domains and ensure that the Olympian kingdom rules supreme, as it always has been and always will.” Zeus said quietly.

Both Hades and Poseidon nodded, and Poseidon placed his hand atop theirs, smiling.

“Thank you, brothers. For our kingdom and our people?”

“Our kingdom and our people.” Zeus nodded.

“Yes.” Hades agreed.

For a moment, the three brothers stood as one, united in their loyalties. Then Hades frowned.

“Fools…”

“Problem, brother?”

“Morpheus has spotted Enneads trying to enter Tartarus through the Fields, bypassing Cerberus. I must go and deal with them. Goodbye brothers.” He nodded, then vanishes in a tornado of black smoke, a sign he was furious.

Poseidon glanced at Zeus.

“Will you be okay?”

“Of course. Return to Atlantis, brother, and say hello to Amphitrite for me.”

“Perhaps you should visit and say it yourself, Zeus. She would be happy to see you.”

Zeus nodded, and Poseidon vanished in a pool of water that had formed around his feet, leaving Zeus all alone in the drenched field.

Sighing, but feeling newly happy, he took one last look around the field and disappeared in a flash of lightning.

Revelations

I led her by the hand out onto the small balcony that looked out over the river, the evening freighters and tourist vessels making their way along the choppy waters.

Sitting down in one of the loungers, I laid back. Instead of sitting down in the other, Fenella climbed onto the seat next to me, curling up in the hollow between my body and my arm, her head resting on my shoulder as her legs draped across my own.

As she rested her head on my shoulder, her slender finger began tracing runic shapes on my chest. It was an odd gesture, and I was about to ask what she was doing when she spoke first.

“Angel?” She asked, her voice timid, as if she was reluctant to ask what was on her mind, which made me frown a little.

“Yes, my love?” I kept my voice low and calm, reassuring her that she could ask anything.

“You said you weren’t perfect… when we spoke earlier before we went out. You said you weren’t perfect. But you have no scars, no blemishes…you are flawless.”

I hesitated.

She had shown such understanding to my true nature, but knowing I was a vampire, and knowing a secret I had kept hidden for almost as long…that was different altogether. But as I gazed into her concerned, guileless eyes, I knew I had to tell her.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself a little, I looked away and quietly said “….would you believe me if I told you that I reside under an illusion?”

“Illusion?” Her face still held its concerned countenance.

“Yes. I alter the perception of people who see my bare skin on my upper body, as those who know were made uncomfortable the first time that they saw me for who I truly am.”

She sat up, gazing lovingly into my eyes. “Oh my love…never pretend with me.”

“I should explain. It is a magical spell taught to me by a shaman I met many years ago.” I sighed heavily, ” But I don’t want to hide any more…”

She stopped making the movements and rested her hand on my chest and added simply, “So don’t.”

“You need to promise me something, Fen, if I am going to show you.”

“I have given you my life…in every way, what more could I promise?” She nodded then continued, “But I will…no questions asked.”

Give me your word that you will show no pity towards me. I despise being pitied.” I asked, my voice shaking a little.

She kissed me softly, “I cannot control my emotions when it comes to my love, my soul…but I will try.”

Her words filled me with a burst of courage. The complete and utter conviction in her tone was enough to tell me that she would do as she had said.

“Okay.” I nodded as I closed my eyes, not wanting to see whatever emotion struck her when I dropped the illusion. “Here goes….”

I dropped the illusion, the magic that hid my true nature falling away like a discarded cloak. My true body was a patchwork of scars – a multitude of them weaved down each arm, crisscrossing back and forth along the skin. A thick scar shredded my torso from the left collarbone to my right hip, and a final scar traversed my right eye from a few inches above to an inch or so below.

As my eyes were tightly closed, I didn’t see her raise her finger, so when it lightly brushed across the skin where the scars were, I jumped a little.

Her fingers slowly traced along each of my scars, the feather soft contact still making me shiver. Goosebumps sheeted across my skin, 

With a single finger, she traced each scar gently, kissing each one from my face to my arms. “Oh my love.” Her voice still soft as she took in the new sight before her.

As much as I tried to fight it, I couldn’t stop the shudder that quaked through me as she explored the scars that had shaped me

“The things you have seen.” She kissed me softly again, “Done.”

In a low, quiet voice, which was all my mouth would manage, I whispered “Please… don’t ask…”

She kissed me reassuring me as she shushed me, stroking my jawline. “If you wish, I do not ever want to cause you pain. But no more illusions with me. Deal?”

“I promise you, Fenella, I do not wish to hide things from you, and there are some things I am ashamed of in my past. But I will not keep things from you, not anymore. You have my word…”

She grinned at me slightly and nodded, rubbing my cheek with her thumb, “My Angel.” She said as she laid her head back on my shoulder, returning to her finger scribbles on my chest taking a big sigh.

As we sat there in silence, gazing at the slowly setting sun, I realized something, which made me smile a little. “I actually feel better…”

She muttered, “You do?”

“Yes, knowing you still love me despite these…”

“I am not petty, nor shallow…this is your past…they do not define you, but are merely a part of how you became who you are now. A defining moment, no doubt, but just another part of what shaped you into, you.”

I smiled a little, my fangs baring a little. “Yes, it did define me. I am still an animal, Fenella, but that animal is caged.”

“An animal? I see no such thing here. And you have me now. A new focus that can handle your animalistic needs and wants.”

“You don’t understand. I am a beast at heart. I keep my anger locked away because it is not something you would like of me. But I am never angry at you.”

She snorted a laugh, “It’s not like you can break me now…well, break and repair. You may be angry at me one day…I am not infallible. Do not hold me to that standard, please.”

“Fenella, I want you to listen to me. Just for a moment.”

“I am listening.”

“These scars,” I gestured to my chest and arms, “these are because I AM that beast…. they are a direct result of my pain and darkness…. but my focus now is keeping you safe, because you are the sole light in that darkness, the salve for that pain…”

I took a momentary pause, and continued.

“You are my world, my soul, my heart. And you will never bear witness to that animal unless it is in defense of you.”

“Pain I can bear…you, in all your forms, I can bear. Life without you…would kill me.”

“Then you will never die…” I smiled, and the smile she gave me in return was stunning.

“Even you haven’t asked why I sought such a thing…”

That made me fall silent. I hadn’t even thought about it. “Shit…”

The silence had stretched on for minutes, and not a sound had passed her lips as she traced those odd shapes on my chest. I grew a little frustrated.

“Answer me, Fenella. Why did you offer me what you did?”

“Huh? Oh…”

I wasn’t buying the forgetfulness. I stared at her, awaiting an answer and unwilling to move until I got one.

She opened her mouth to answer then closed it again without an answer. I leaned back and kept waiting.

She sighed before responding, “Many many reasons…one doesn’t come to this choice on a whim.”

“Trust me, Fen. I have time.”

“Or you would have one fucked up soulmate if it was a whim. She chuckled with her awkward and adorable laugh as she slid off my lap to sit beside me and fiddled with the hem of her shirt.

Slipping off the chair, I grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around her, holding her close against me, unwilling to let her go too far from me. “I will not be angry, whatever your reason.”

“I have always been taken for granted, pushed aside, used, abused, forgotten.” She paused a moment, “I wanted…I knew there was more and I damn well deserved more.”

I didn’t interrupt, or question, but sat and listened silently.

“I knew…if the gods were real, then so were you and your kind. I honestly thought…” She paused again, unsure of how her next words would affect me. “Sure you won’t be mad?”

“If you keep stalling… I might spank you.” She smirked again so I added, “And not for fun.” Her face fell again as I made her look at me.

“Tell me.”

Violet Carnage – Reiko Briggs

Guest author: Antoinette V. Sluytman

First there were the sounds of the cold howling released from the tormented jaws of the crawling victims. Scarlet laced from their wringing fingers as they grasped at the air, spilling like mercury teardrops from their fingertips. And then left to lay still, captured in time with their last expressions frozen in the moment like the masks of tortured incarnates. 

And that expression was one of pure terror, petrified amidst the violence. And then there was nothing but that death and the icy winds that pressed again Reiko’s blood stained cheek as his tall body broke across the warm glow of the horizon. 

He stood at the edge of the cliff, eyes closed, recalling how he had cut down all his enemies with a primal instinct honed by fury after escaping his prison, unphased by their putrid torture methods. And now they were all dead, their pain ended by the wrath of his axe.

Reiko licked the blood from his teeth as he carefully wiped the edge of his axe clean with the sleeve of his leather trench coat. His cufflinks were frayed at the edges, torn and dark with violent stains. He had managed to steal back his clothes before escaping his cell — and all just to have it sullied by the filth of his enemies? 

He frowned down irritatedly at the black tips of his boots before lifting his head up to observe his work. He had his fair share of army carnage in the past but…damn had he made a mess. The sight made his eyes glisten, one slightly more swollen from the blood that clotted the edge as they scanned the battlefield. 

Bodies of the fools who thought that they could imprison him. He rubbed the blood from his beard with the base of his thumb as he inclined his chin down at the trail he had left of victims in his wake. The sight would’ve even made darling Ravenna proud.

Ravenna

He had almost forgotten how the vampire mother had mentally breached his consciousness after the battle with a very specific message. An order.

It is time to return home Beast…

Reiko smiled to himself and his fingers curled in when he remembered how she had called him by his nickname, after his title Beast Incarnate. A befitting name indeed.

But he also noted there would be an issue at hand as his gaze lifted to the far distance where the hazy silhouette of the city awaited. How was he going to return to The Hall of the Ancients without bringing the whole infantry down on his head? Surely he couldn’t slaughter every citizen there…

His head tilted to the side slowly…or could he?

The sound of a mangled groan from somewhere nearby broke Reiko out of his thoughts, and he noticed a squirming lump of a man moving from somewhere amidst the pile of bodies.

Somehow the desperation caught in the squirming fool’s eyes inspired an idea in Reiko, and he carefully pulled out his pipe from his pocket and blew out a wisp of blood vapor from between his lips before moving over the bodies towards the man.

“Aye,” Reiko loomed over the bloodstained worm beneath him. “Well look at you boy, covered in the blood of your comrades but not a single scratch on yourself. Either I lost my touch or you’re just that easy to miss.”

He blew out another puff of smoke as two pairs of wide and terrified blue eyes stared back up at him, then he grinned widely. “And you didn’t even piss yourself either, I’m impressed.”

The man grunted when Reiko pushed him over with his foot. “H-heathen…y-you’ve killed them all!”

Reiko noticed the man was young, most likely a new recruit drafted from some slum into the military force. He despised when he was forced to face such weak opponents. A green-eared street urchin.

“Well if I had killed them all we wouldn’t be having this conversation now would we?” Reiko tapped the ash from his pipe with his finger. “What’s your name boy?”

Blood spilled down the man’s chin as his throat bobbed nervously. “My name? My name is…Ashton…” he shook his head anxiously. “Why are you asking? Are you just trying to prolong my suffering for your own cruel satisfaction? I will die with my comrades and my honor shall find me in the afterlife, so just get on with it!”

“Oh, I’m tempted,” Reiko bent down on his knees and leaned forward, causing Ashton to suck in his breath. “But like I said, you’ve shown me that you’re easy to miss, a measly maggot who couldn’t turn a single head, not even in a battlefield. And I am in need of this technique you’ve mastered of remaining unnoticed, so that I may pass through the city in peace.”

“I…I think I’m going to be sick…” Ashton’s mouth fell open and his head fell between his shoulders. Annoyed, Reiko ceased his face between his fingers and forced the man’s head back up, fingers gripping the skin right beneath his hollow cheekbones and pale blue sunken eyes.

“If you refuse then I will remove your head from this body and bring it with me back to my Queen, she has had a recent weakness for blue eyed humans. Your honor will be impaled on the gates of The Hall of the Ancients with your head. And I will find someone else who can help me, someone with brown eyes, aye?”

Ashton nodded slowly. “Please…I was drafted without any choice into the army…I-I did not know any of this would occur—“

“By the Trium, should I fetch some violins?” Reiko laughed out loud while smoothening back his dark brunette hair, rising back up to his feet. “Enough whining, get up — we need to move while it’s still morning.”

Ashton stumbled to his feet, keeping his eyes trained on the large bearded man that stood before him. 

The Beast Incarnate, Reiko Briggs. 

He was a pure menace to look at. Tall and clothed in dark leathers and straps, the silver of his belt buckle and the buttons of his collar stained with dark blood, and his long dark beard contrasted the slanted grey of his morbid eyes. He was covered in knicks and cuts from the battle, blood staining the hard edge of his jawline near the edge of his eyelashes. Reiko had the looks of a killer, but his voice was surprisingly soft and charming.

Reiko flexed his knuckles so that the hardness of his veins became prominent. “At a boy, now the transaction from here is pretty simple. Get me through the city unnoticed, and I spare your life.”

Ashton breathed out and rubbed his arm. “Right…we can’t walk around covered in blood, we’ll need to change. Follow me.”

Reiko stepped over the bodies in front of him and moved to follow the young man across the battlefield with a confident gait.

Reiko smirked beneath the shadow of his brow, this would be an interesting story to tell the others over a few goblets of wine.

Hmm, wine… the thought of it made him wet his lips excitedly as they entered the city through a back alleyway Ashton had led him to. They weaved their way through the narrow streets until they made their way to a small grey cobblestone home buried in a back alleyway. Ashton’s house apparently.

“Oh Ashton,” Reiko clicked his teeth as he glanced up at the beaten down doorway. “How pathetic.”

Ashton began fumbling with his keys, fingers loose with trepidation as he shot Reiko a frown. “At least I’m not the fugitive here.”

“Fugitive? Oh my return to my home is very much expected, and the size of it would swallow half of this whole city, boy.”

“You’re the Beast Incarnate,” Ashton hissed under his breath, fingers trembling. “You’re a criminal, a murderer…”

“What does that have to do with where I sleep at night?” Reiko yawned.

“How do you sleep at night?”

Reiko grinned. “Drunk and squeezed between two bodacious and naked—“

The door was thrown open, and the creaking of the hinge echoed through the alleyway as a tall thin-boned with long black curly hair stepped into the light. Ashton looked up, Reiko turned and came face to face with the eyes of the most furious woman he had ever seen.

And as he was stuck between the raging fire in her eyes, he couldn’t help but feel like there was something familiar about her. At least he did, before she lifted her hand and struck him hard across the face. When he felt the pain he couldn’t help but feel a bit impressed.

“Ashton you bastard!” her dark violet eyes burned furiously at him. “How dare you show your face back here after — Oh….you’re not Ashton.”

“No,” Reiko growled at the woman, dressed in a scarlet robe. “I am most certainly not Ashton, but please, do go on.”

Ashton glanced from Reiko back to the woman, eyes squinting from the shadows. “Now’s not the time Sashae, we-we have to hide this man, it’s a long story.”

Sashae… Her name was definitely familiar…but from where? By the looks of her she was no vampire.

Sashae finally looked at Ashton for the first time, observing the blood that stained his leather armor before nodding her head slowly at him. “That…that is what you truly look like from the inside Ash…a bloody fool. Leaving to battle without telling me after sleeping with that charlatan!”

“Sashae,” Ashton cleared his throat loudly while nodding his head at Reiko. “This is Reiko, Reiko Briggs.”

Sashae’s mouth remained open, and her eyes fell back on Reiko. A brilliant violet now. “That’s…that’s impossible…Ashton he’s supposed to be—“

“Imprisoned, I’m sure you can connect the dots in that little brain of yours sweetheart and imagine the urgency of the situation. Particularly for the head of your precious lover here.” Reiko stated.                    

Sashae continued to scowl at the both of them, but then eventually moved aside to allow them both inside, uttering a few curses under her breath. Reiko couldn’t help but smile at the woman’s bitter tongue.

“The sooner we get him out of here the better,” Ashton walked into the room with haste and pointed at one of the doors along the hallway. “There should be some fresh garbs in there, a cloak to cover yourself, grab whatever you need.”

“I need the wine too,” Reiko nodded while pushing the doors open. “All of it.”

Ashton perked an eyebrow. “We don’t have any wine, it’s too expensive.”

“Mmph, no wonder you left without warning.” Reiko grumbled while moving into the room, still feeling Sashae’s gaze burning into his back as he slipped into the shadows.

Why was there something so bloody familiar about the horizon violet of her eyes? He shook the thought away and removed his trenchcoat and arsenal belt from around his waist, sliding his axe to the side as he threw a flimsy black cloak over his shoulder. He knew Ravenna was waiting for him, her and the other vampires.

Reiko admired the blood that painted his skin for a moment before washing it off and then joined Ashton and Sashae back in the main room. Ashton had changed into a grey tunic and robe, and now that he was clean from all the blood Reiko noticed that he was a lot younger than he had originally thought. Sashae leaped to attention when Reiko entered the room.

“I’m…,” Sashae swallowed. “I’m coming with you both, it will be far less suspicious if a woman is with you.”

“Sashae…” Ashton began, trailing off as Sashae shot him a warning look from beneath her pale lashes.

Reiko just shrugged his shoulders and hooked his axe back to his belt before moving past them. “Right then, let’s move.”

The two humans followed shortly behind Reiko and they moved back into the streets. Reiko had to admit, it was a smart idea to bring Sashae along. Most bystanders were much too preoccupied with admiring her stunning looks to notice Reiko’s grim presence by her side. 

“Why do this?” Ashton whispered from beside him, tucking his head beneath the shadows of his hood. “You’ve chosen to spare me to help you…because you do not wish to see anymore destruction right?”

“Where you see destruction I just see noise,” Reiko kept his head forward. “And too much noise can be a bad thing.”

“Where will you go?”

“The only place where I can be accepted. Where the wine flows from fountains like blood and there is the purest glory of gilded steel.”

Ashton turned his chin down with a frown, clearly conflicted at the revelation that he was helping his enemy escape. His thin contemptuous lips formed a hard line as he remained quiet for the rest of the way until they came across an empty alleyway that followed the sewer line of the city, abandoned by the commoners, yet revealed an exit through the gated fence around the city.

“We’ve arrived,” Ashton breathed. “Just take this back entrance and it will lead you to the sewer gates of the slums, it should be easy for you to open them since they’ve been abandoned for years.”

“Well I’d prefer not to return home smelling like human manure, but I suppose it isn’t the time for being picky, aye.”

“Probably not, the infantry is most likely already on its way since…there is no survivor of the pursuit battle except me, so reinforcements have had to come across what you left behind by now…”

Reiko chuckled softly. “Bet they pissed their trousers at the sight, now I’d pay good money to see that. Who knows, maybe they’ll even name that hilltop after me.”

Ashton scowled at the ground. “You’d best hurry, if you head east outside of the gates—“

Ashton’s words were cut off by a loud thud, and when Rieko turned he saw the man’s body crumble to the ground. Sashae stood behind him with her lips muttering inaudible words, eyes turned down to the ground. 

A spell.

“You’re a necromancer.” Reiko’s hand gripped his axe and slid it free from his waist, and Sashae quickly lifted her eyes back at him before removing a small dagger from her sleeves and directing it at his throat.   

“Yes I am,” Sashae said with a confidence that took him by surprise. “Ashton is leading you into a trap Reiko, he told me while you changed. There is a patrol waiting right outside those gates.”

How unoriginal.

Reiko couldn’t help but laugh. “So what if there is? Nothing I can’t handle, the boy only dug his own grave, and so have you.”

Something hardened behind Sashae’s eyes and she refused to back down beneath the merciless abyss of his eyes. “I won’t let you leave, not yet.”

He had had enough of this. Before Sashae could so much as move a muscle, his hand was wrapped around her forearm where he bent it away from his throat, and her blade clattered to the ground. The wide astonishment in her eyes was caught in the steel of his weapon as he threw her against the wall, a gasp escaping from between her lips as the axe moved up to her throat.

“You don’t remember me — its my fault, I made it that way Reiko…” she kept her eyes on him as she spoke, lips quivering, her wild curls pressed against the sweat on her forehead.

“You think you can stop me with these foolish lies?” Reiko sneered in her face.

“I don’t want to stop you.”

“Then what do you want!?” He snarled at her, but her face remained calm the whole time.

“I want…” she blinked her eyes open at him. “I want you to turn me into a vampire.” That caused his grip to release for a moment, and an eerie silence broke the tension in the air. It wouldn’t be long before the patrol would catch them from the gates.

“I can see it in your eyes, a part of you still remembers me. It seems fate has forced our paths to cross once again. We knew each other a long time ago you and I, before I put an enchantment on you so that you would forget everything…I thought I could start all over with…Ashton…but he is not worthy of me, no man in this cesspool is worthy of me, this life is a burden on my existence. I want what you have, power, power and no fear. No more settling for those undeserving of my time,” her eyes were wild now, a stunning wildfire glowing behind them, untamed. “The mother vampire has a weakness for those with eyes of blue.You could bring her another addition to the prize of sky eyes she already has, or you could gift her something even more rare, Reiko. A vampire with eyes of violet.”

Reiko scoffed incredulously at Sashae, at the audacity to even mention the mother of vampires so casually in front of him. Clearly this necromancer had a death wish. 

There was no way he would be gullible enough to allow someone to put him under an enchantment…and yet she was familiar to him in some way he could not put a finger on.

Frustrated, he pulled his lips back into a snarl and leaned closer so that Sashae could see the fury in his eyes. Somewhere behind them the gateways opened and the echoing of footsteps began to approach.

“Or how about this?” he gripped Sashae’s chin and smiled coldly at her, forcing her to look into his hungry gaze that wanted nothing more than just to devour her. “Why don’t I just kill you now, and bring back yours and his eyes as prizes, hm?”

“Because, I offer a better prize. One only for you Beast Incarnate,” Sashae’s hand gripped his and removed it from her chin, and then with her eyes still trained on his she forced his hand through the opening of her cloak and pressed his palm to her stomach. And then her eyes became clear. “Because inside of me, I carry your child.”

He felt the swell, and the blood drained from his body just as quickly as the patrol of soldiers broke from the shadows to advance upon them. The silence was broken by the sound of steel clattering against the stone when his axe hit the floor, sliding from the trembling grip of his hand.

And then he finally remembered her.

He remembered the woman who had sold him out to the military forces during the Battle of Cannae.

Sashae Ashryn. The only woman to steal his heart.

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The Hand – Sorrel Ravenswood

“I don’t care. If the miners drop, let them die and use them for fertiliser.”

Closing the door behind her with a sigh, Sorrel turned to find a small roll of parchment on the desk, which perplexed her as the door was usually locked and guarded.

Pausing, she crossed to the desk and picked it up. It was old parchment, as she could smell the musky scent of mould on it.

Unrolling it, she read the contents and felt her body shivering with fear.

Dear Miss Ravenswood,

We are aware you are a busy woman. You have more on your plate than most vampires of this age, while many hide under the cloak of secrecy and misdirection.

We admire your drive for success and your indomitable will, which is why we are inviting you for a dinner at our home, three days from now in the caves to the east.

Do come alone, as we cannot guarantee the safety of those who would come with you. 

Yours,

At the bottom were three bloody fingerprints of different shapes and sizes. Sorrel chucked the parchment into the fire, perturbed.

Not even her closest friends knew her true nature, not even her husband. But a stranger had broken into her private office, left a note blatantly telling her they knew, and invited her to dinner.

This was bad, and whoever it was needed to die.

The three days passed, and Sorrel found herself heading up into the hills, a knife tucked into her belt underneath her shirt.

It was a long walk, but just as the sun set beyond the hills to the West where her mines lay, she reached the caves. To her surprise, she was met by a little girl.

“Hello… my name is Sorrel.”

“Dalia. It is a pleasure to meet you. You must be thirsty. It is quite the walk to reach these caves.”

“I’m fine.”

“Of course you are. But not many vampires make the walk up here. It is rather high up and we do like our privacy.”

Sorrel suddenly realized who she was looking at.

“You sent the letter.”

“We, sent the letter. But nevertheless, you accepted the invite all the same. Please, join us.” Dalia replied, turning on her heel and heading into the cave.

Sorrel hesitated, then followed her in.

The cave was spacious. Three stone chairs sat in the far corner, next to a fire that burned merrily. Across from her was a large pit, the surface rippling gently.

Dalia, however, led her to the fire, where two other young girls were sat, feasting on what looked like pheasant breast.

“This is Karta and Laima.”

“Hello.” The two replied in unison, creeping her out.

“Please, join us for dinner.” Dalia smiled, gesturing to a small wooden stool. Sorrel sat and Karta passed her a plate full of meat.

“I don’t need food.”

“Neither do we. But it is still delicious. Eat.”

“But – ”

“Eat.” Laima snapped, and Sorrel found herself compelled to do so, soon finishing the plate.

Putting it aside, she studied her hosts.

Dalia appeared to be the smallest of the three. Dark blonde hair touched her shoulders, framing a cherubic face. Karta was slightly taller, deep brown hair short but messy, her face slightly gaunt but pretty. Laima appeared physically to be the oldest, straight black hair flowing down her back, her angelic face serious and stoic.

All three of them, now that she was looking closer, had red eyes the colour of blood.

“Why did you invite me up here? And who are you?”

“We, dear girl, are the first of the race that you now call yourself a part of.” Karta replied.

“You’re the first vampires?”

“Yes. We gave birth to the rest of you, so to speak.” Laima added.

“And why did you ask for me? Why am I special?”

“Your drive, dear girl. The empire you have under you is extraordinary, and we wish to apply that to our own rule. We wish you to be our envoy.”

Sorrel gazed at them.

“What do I gain out of this?”

“With the exception of us, you will become the fastest, strongest, deadliest vampire in the history of our people. Nothing will ever be a threat to you again, and all we ask is you do as we command.”

Sorrel was tempted. Being the highest vampire on the food chain – despite the three in front of her – was quite the offer. 

“I’ll do it. What do I do?”

“Come and take a look at this.” Dalia smiled, walking off towards the pit she had seen when she had first entered the cave. As she got closer, she realized it was full of blood. What she didn’t understand was why it was still rippling.

“What is this?”

“This, is the cradle of your new life. It will give you your new strength.”

“Okay.”

“It is layered with dark magic. What enters, is altered forever.”

“Dark magic. From where?”

“From us. We are a coven of not only vampires, but very powerful witches. We have made this pit as powerful as possible, seeking the one that can bring about a new world order.”

“You’ve found her.” Sorrel said confidently.

“We will see. Kneel.” Dalia instructed. Sorrel knelt before her and Karta. Neither of the two spoke, and it made Sorrel uneasy.

“What do I do n – ” she began, only for Laima to step up behind her and slice her throat. Gasping for help through the torrent of blood that gushed out, she looked up at the three with disbelief that they had killed her.

Laima kicked her into the viscous pool, and the last thing Sorrel felt was the blood submerging her in its depths.

Then her eyes flickered open, and all she could see was crimson. Swimming for the surface, she broke free with a gasp, hauling herself out of the pool. Her entire body simultaneously ached and buzzed with power.

Wiping her eyes, she saw the three vampires kneeling beside her.

“How do you feel?”

“You tried to kill me.”

“We needed the blood to get into your system, and letting your own blood out was the quickest way to allow it entry. It has completely rewritten your body. This… this is a shell. You are blood in its purest form, and it will serve you well. Stand.”

Sorrel stood, noticing her clothing was as dry as a bone as she did so.

“Picture a weapon.” Karta told her.

Sorrel frowned, but brought up the image of one of the antique swords in her study. No sooner had she done so than she felt her hand ache. Looking down, she nearly fainted in shock to see the same sword – albeit made of solid blood – coming out of the palm of her hand, eventually long enough for her to hold like a real sword.

“How…”

“We told you. You are blood. It bends to your will. Now, who do you serve?”

“You.” Sorrel replied, letting the blade return to her hand and dropping to one knee.

“Good. We have work to do.”

Poking A Bear – Rosemary Beckworth

Leaning in the doorway of her home, Rosemary gazed out at the villagers. They were simple folk, farmers and miners more than anything else. They lived a quiet, peaceful life.

Rosemary had purchased a home in the village for that exact reason, as other vampires were unlikely to find her if they came to look for her. Not that any would, as she wasn’t the kindest of vampires, and would sooner tear their head off than offer them tea.

There were a few exceptions, but they were asleep or they kept their distance. It was lonely, but there was less chance of bloodshed and violence. And those days were long gone, as much as the animal in her heart told her otherwise.

Turning, she headed back inside, closing the door with a gentle click. Placing more logs on the fire, she laid down before the fireplace and closed her eyes. The day held little interest, and night would fall before long.

As it fell beyond the horizon and the last beam of warm light vanished from the cabin, Rosemary’s eyes flickered open. As she sat up, her stomach rumbled loudly in the silence, testament to the fact she had not fed in four days.

With a sigh of utter frustration, Rosemary dragged herself to her feet and headed out into the village, which was quiet except for a few last stragglers coming home from the mines.

She padded slowly through the silent streets, her ears listening to the inhabitants of each house as she passed, searching for one thing in particular. She found it in the last house.

It was situated right on the edge of a great expanse of field that stretched off into the distance as far as her eyes could see. Slipping round the back of the house, she let herself in through the back door.

The house was peaceful, a fire crackling merrily in the fireplace, the fragrant scent of lilacs permeating the air of the cool, dark house.

Slipping off her shoes, Rosemary slowly made her way through the house, always alert for signs of movement or pets. Stopping at a door, she became aware that on the other side were two people. Turning her head, she registered a third.

Crossing to their room instead, she pulled the door open at a snail’s pace. Inside was a young girl, her face buried in the pillow, sleeping peacefully. Rosemary stepped into the room and closed the door with a soft click. Gliding over to the bed, she knelt and gently pulled the girl a little closer, exposing her soft, pale neck.

Leaning in, she bared her fangs and sank them into the girl’s flesh, eliciting a soft moan from the girl. She fed slowly, the urge to drain the fragile girl increasing with every pulse of her heart. Feeding had always had the ability to nearly consume her, and it was a struggle just to put the girl down and step away from the bed.

Wiping her mouth, Rosemary tucked the sheet back over the girl’s limp frame and left the bedroom. She stepped out into the balmy night air and began to head back to her house.

The walk was uneventful, even during the brief stop she made at the small lake in the center of the village, where she knelt and watched the fireflies dance through the air over the water as it rippled in the breeze of the night.

Closing her door behind her, she felt the lingering buzz in her veins left behind by the child’s blood, and felt a soft disappointment that she had no war to engage in, no trial to complete.

Sitting down in a chair, she gazed out at the sky outside through the window. The hours passed, the sky lightened and she drifted back to sleep.

What seemed like seconds later, she awoke to a loud cacophony of screams in the village outside. With a deep sigh, Rosemary got to her feet. Humans that were screaming were never a good sign.

Unless they were fleeing for their lives…

Pulling the door open, she poked her head out and took a look down the street. Everyone was sprinting down the main path of the village towards a woman who was knelt in the open. She was clutching onto a shape… a body. Rosemary realized it was the girl that she had fed on in the night.

What the…

She hadn’t fed enough to drain the poor girl, that she was sure of. But the girl was unmoving in the grip of her mother. And now that she was able to focus on the girl, Rosemary found she could hear no heartbeat – the girl was definitely dead.

The mother was screaming at the top of her lungs, her wails making her words almost unintelligible, but it was clear what she was saying. She was claiming a demon had taken her daughter from her in the night.

Rosemary felt a shiver of guilt.

Inadvertently or not, she had killed the girl. It had been her need to feed from an easier target that had caused the death, and the townsfolk would soon be on the hunt.And as the newest resident, she was the obvious candidate.

No sooner was the thought in her mind than several of the townsfolk turned to look at her, most of them people who had seen her as she walked through the village the night before.

They marched up the road, stopping before her house. Rosemary didn’t move. She wasn’t in the least afraid of them, but she was wary of her temper exploding.

“Did you do this?!” One demanded.

“What are you talking about?”

“Did you kill the child?”

“Of course I didn’t. Why would I?” Rosemary snapped. She was technically telling the truth, as it had been the child’s age that had killed her. The mother clearly wasn’t believing it at all.

“It was her! She killed my daughter! Kill her!”

“I did not kill your child. That is utter nonsense, no matter what you people think.”

“She killed my daughter…” the mother wailed, and angry murmurs spread throughout the crowd, as clearly the grieving woman’s sorrow stricken ravings were more believable than Rosemary’s protestations of innocence.

Rosemary rolled her eyes and turned to head back in, tired of the arguments. The moment she had turned her back, she felt something hit the back of her head with a soft splat.

Looking down, she saw a partially crushed tomato lying on the floor in the doorway. Her rage bubbled to the surface, but she didn’t unleash it, turning to the assembled crowd.

“Which of you threw that?” She asked, willing to leave them be if an apology was admitted. To her dismay and irritation, another tomato hit her square in the chest, followed by a third that soared past her head.

Rosemary snapped.

Flitting forward, she slammed into the assembled crowd like a tsunami, gutting several with her bare hands. Blood stained the ground, along with organs and flesh.

Others were thrown through the air into buildings and objects with such force that the impact killed them stone dead. The rest were drained dry as her fangs tore their throats open.

None escaped her fury. Men, women and children alike suffered a gruesome end, the maelstrom of carnage ending as she slowly stalked the mother of the young girl.

She grabbed the woman, who was crawling along on hands and knees on the dusty path, and sank her fangs deep, puncturing the flesh and shredding the veins beneath. She drank deep, the blood not only flowing down her throat but down into the dirt and dust.

Dropping her to the earth, she walked back along the path, falling to her knees by the lake once again. The scorching heat of her fury was ebbing away, and she could feel the blood of all the villagers dripping from her hands, sliding down her face… it was everywhere.

Plunging her hands into the water, she splashed it over her face, trying to scrub it all clean. The water of the lake was awash with crimson when she had finished.

Rosemary looked up at the sky, and suddenly felt a deep shudder of grief. Not fighting it, she began to weep. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw the destruction and wept harder.

Then, in the quiet of the morning, she heard a voice that made her look back around. Stood on the shore nearby, gazing straight at her, was a person she never thought she would see again.

“Hello, my sweet Rosemary.”

“Ravenna… my Queen…” Rosemary breathed.

“We need to talk.”

A Deeper Desire

The Balance Shifts

Ravenna stared down at the last four of her children as they sat peacefully. She couldn’t help but smile, as they were still acting like the brothers and sister they had become all those years ago.

As her eyes wandered from each one to the next, her mind filled with warm memories.

Reiko… my sweet feral beast…

If there had ever been a greater example of the animalistic nature of vampire kind, it was Reiko. He was a monster of unfathomable proportions, a river of blood staining his name forever in the histories of both human and vampire kind.

Her eyes moved on.

Ezio… faithful and charming to the end…

As she gazed at Ezio, an echo of a brief but romantic kiss came to mind. She pushed it away, feeling guilty. She loved Vladimir, but would never forget that Ezio had been there at a time when everything else had been lost. He was the wolf hearted seducer, but Ravenna knew he would stand beside his siblings until the world caved around them.

Her eyes fell on the only female left of the First Children.

Rosemary… so unbalanced, so angry… so beautiful…

Ravenna had always seen Rosemary as a sister, not a daughter. Her mental illness aside, Rosemary had always been the one to confide in, the one Ravenna had made godmother of her youngest child. Fierce and protective of her brothers, she was the closest thing Ravenna had to a true sibling.

Her eyes moved to the opposite side of the fire, landing on her love.

Vladimir.

My love, my dark prince….

Her unbeating heart skipped looking at her dear First Child. They were all family, but Ravenna wondered how the others would react knowing Vladimir had actually given her a blessing beyond happiness.

Their children were somewhere in the world, and Ravenna hoped someday they would all be able to sit and talk of their family, but it was unlikely.

Then Vladimir said something that made her smile with joy.

“Stop lurking, dear Mother.”

All three others at the fireside jumped and looked round as Ravenna slowly glided forward.

Rosemary scrambled to her feet and leaped on her for a hug, which Ravenna returned, bemused just a little. Ezio, Reiko and Vladimir all bent the knee, their old chivalry and fealty showing through.

“Stand. There will be none of that this time. We are not a Queen and her subjects any more. Nor a Mother and her Children. We are a family. And we have a problem that needs solving.”

The three men stood, and beside her, Rosemary frowned.

“What problem?”

“We have a divided world. It is time we made our presence known. Come, dear family mine. Time to break our silence.”

Ravenna turned on her heel and walked into the darkness, her four friends behind her, ready to set the world to rights.

Animals At Heart

Rosemary wandered through the gardens of the compound. She had no direction, she simply wanted away from the fledglings. The need to incessantly chatter among the younger generations was frustrating and Rosemary knew it was leave or murder them.

Her feet led her down through a series of arches, the bricks and metal overtaken completely by the vines and roses that flowered all over the place.

She paused to take a sniff of one of the roses, and saw a familiar figure silhouetted against the moonlight as he gazed out at the sea. Hesitating, she slipped around the brick column and slowly made her way closer.

She was only ten feet away when he spoke.

“I am not in the mood. If you are joining me, get your ass over here. If not, find somewhere else to loiter and someone else to sneak up on.”

Rosemary quickly stepped up beside him. She wasn’t particularly afraid of him, but there was always the chance he would throw her into the frothing waters below if her got annoyed.

“You seem pensive.” She said quietly.

“I am not pensive. I am resisting homicide.”

Rosemary chuckled.

“They are frustrating, aren’t they?”

“Frustrating is not the word. I sincerely think that Vlad had the right idea.”

“What idea?”

“Vladimir wanted to assassinate all of them after we first met with Buckley. He despised them.”

“So why not do so? What is to stop you and I walking into that compound and murdering every last one of those pathetic little pretenders that call themselves vampires?”

“Our word.” Reiko replied, shifting a little. “We gave our word to our dear brother that we would tame our darker impulses.”

“So that is what we are, is it? Two animals caged by civility and weakness?”

“Weakness? What weakness?”

“We have to keep our true natures subdued because our dear brother says so.”

“You forget one thing, Rosemary.”

“And that is?” Rosemary snapped, scoffing.

“You can’t keep an animal caged forever.” He replied, giving her a smile that made her shiver, a shiver that had little to do with the cold wind blowing in from the sea.

As she gazed at him, he walked away, leaving Rosemary alone, watching her only kindred spirit walk away into the shadows.

A Grave Mistake

Hades was silent.

Beside him, Hel was sat up, slowly pulling her clothes on. A deep sense of shame pulsed through him, even though it had been necessary.

He needed Hel to believe he was on her side, and the seduction of the Jotun would bind their realms together until it became necessary for that bond to be shattered.

As Hades climbed out of the bed to dress himself, the worst possible thing happened – the door opened.

Both of them turned to stare at it, aware that should anyone see them together, a lot of plans would become incredibly difficult.

To his horror, the beautiful and heavily pregnant Persephone wandered in, her face still masked in sleep.

“Hades, where is – “

Her eyes fell on Hel, who gazed back, her face showing clear conflict as she stared at Persephone’s swollen belly.

“My love…” Hades began. Persephone turned on her heel and stormed out.

“That was – ” Hel began, but Hades turned on her.

“GET OUT!” He bellowed, making Hel jump in shock. A dark shadow filled the room as he advanced on her. “You were not here. You did not see her. Get. Out.”

Hel, for her part, didn’t back away. She gave him a look of utter disdain as she pulled her dress up onto her shoulders, then drew a portal on the wall and left.

Hades pulled on a tunic and ran after Persephone, determined to explain himself, only for someone to grab him by the scruff of the neck.

They slammed him back against the wall and pinned him there. To his surprise, it was Nyx, who looked absolutely livid.

“What the bloody hell are you playing at?!“

“Lower your tone, Nyx, before – “

“Not finished! You slept with Hel! What is wrong with you?“

“I said lower your – “

Nyx slapped him.

“You foolish, prideful moron. You have a pregnant wife, a wonderful woman here in our home, and you sleep with Hel? Were you thinking with your cock or were you even thinking?”

Hades was now incensed, the sting of the blow burning his skin. He smacked Nyx’s hand away and slowly advanced on her.

“You forget your place. You do not scare or intimidate me. I am not a god you can bully. You answer to me, Nyx. Not the other way around. And if you ever strike me again, I will – “

Once again his words were stopped mid sentence, this time due to someone else.

A cloud of black smoke erupted between them, and a tall, porcelain pale figure appeared out of it.

He was glaring at Hades with such hatred and fury that Hades immediately and instinctively took several steps back.

Then he shocked both him and Nyx by doing something else.

He spoke.

“You will what, Hades?”

“Did you just…” Nyx muttered.

“Answer me!” Thanatos demanded. “What will you do to my mother?”

Hades didn’t answer, but Thanatos clearly wasn’t being rhetorical. He had appeared for a reason, and the sheer fact he was angry spoke volumes.

“Thanatos…”

“Answer. Me.” Thanatos interrupted, his voice deep and commanding, almost hypnotic even though it shook with rage.

“I wouldn’t touch your mother, Thanatos. You know that. Not even Zeus would dare lay a hand on her.”

“Then don’t EVER threaten her again. You may be the king of this underworld, Hades, but I am death. I reap all that come to the pits of Tartarus and the fields of Elysia. The next time you speak like that, be prepared to think it through first. Because if I ever hear you do so again, I will be explaining to your brother why I reaped a god.”

Hades took another step back, a shiver running down his spine. He was not keen to test whether Thanatos was serious, as the simple fact was that Thanatos was never angry.

Now, standing before Hades with a look of venomous murder in his eyes, Hades knew that Nyx was not the real threat. Thanatos was far more lethal than his mother ever would be.

“My apologies, Lady Nyx. My anger got the best of me.”

“Not accepted.” Nyx said as she stood beside her son.”Find your wife, grovel and beg for her not to leave you. Because you have royally screwed this up, Hades.”

“I am aware of that.”

Nyx glared at him, then took Thanatos by the arm.

“Dear son, take me to the Elysian fields. I wish to see the new arrivals.”

Thanatos nodded, gave Hades one last unnerving and withering stare, then vanished in the cloud of black smoke, taking Nyx with him.

Hades let out a breath he hadn’t realised he had held and went in search of Persephone, desperate to save his marriage.

Awakening

I heard her before I saw her. I listened to those timid footsteps, the accelerated thunder of her heartbeat, and I almost smiled.

She paused outside the door, last moment indecision perhaps taking hold, but she tapped almost silently on the door. When she received no answer, the doorknob rattled, and the door opened.

I stepped into the shadow in the corner as she entered the living room and watched her silently, my eyes following her as she began to search for me.

“Angel…? I know…I know I am early, but do you need me?” she asked into the quiet, which made me move noiselessly up behind her.

“Need…” I said softly, making her jump and spin around, “is a very specific word”

“I—I felt your pull. It felt like…like you needed me.”

I looked her from head to toe, and at that moment, she looked so innocent, so beautiful, that an altogether entirely different need took over.

Stepping forward, I lifted her clear from the floor as easily as lifting a bag of sugar, she weighed so little. Her legs wrapped around my waist as I pinned her tight against the wall.

My fangs sank deep, making her cry out my name in shocked surprise. A thin river of blood trickled slowly down her shoulder, the rest flowing down my throat as I fed.

As I fed, her soft moans grew slowly longer and weaker, and I pulled free to look her in those beautiful eyes, which were almost closed.

“You asked all of me…” I said, my voice quiet and calm.

“And I give all of me…freely.”

Time seemed to stand still, the promise of those words more than I could bear to think about.

“I accept.” I heard my voice reply, and I sank my fangs back into the soft skin, this time taking every drop I could draw from her fragile body.

She didn’t struggle or cry out but held onto me as if her life depended on it, even as that life slipped away. On the brink of taking all she had, I lowered her to the floor, cradling her limp frame in my arms.

Tearing the skin open on my wrist, I placed it against her lips with a firm order to drink. Her body lolling against mine, she took a few sips, until the taste compelled her to take more.

Latching onto me with surprising strength, she began to take long, demanding gulps of the crimson stream, until I pulled my arm away, preventing her from taking too much.

She looked up with eyes that held her fear front and center. “Will this hurt?” she asked in a voice shaking so much I was amazed she wasn’t trembling herself. 

I could have lied, but instead, the truth sprang to my lips. “Yes. It will. It will hurt more than anything you have felt in your life. But it will have been worth it when you wake. You will suffer the first few days, but the reward is worth the tribulations…it was for me…”

She opened her mouth to speak, but at that moment, the conversion began to take hold, and she crumpled, crying out in agonized pain.

Lifting her writhing body into my arms, I carried her to the bed—which was completely made due to my not sleeping in it—and sat down against the headboard. As her body shook and seized, I kept a firm hold, over and over again whispering the same words.

“I have you…just hold on…” were words I spoke again and again in a prayer that she would pull through the pain. Eventually, she fell still, as if someone had simply switched her entire body off.

There was no rise and fall of her chest, no slow, steady thump of her heart, just a calm, somewhat eerie quiet. Leaning back, I laid her head against my chest and waited.

Around an hour or so later, she jolted upright, looking around in panic. When she realized she was in my arms still, she slowly lost the tension of her limbs, and her eyes fixed on me as she relaxed.

“Angel….” Her voice sounded so lost, so confused that had my heart beat, it would have ached.

“Yes. I’m here. You made it through.”

“I can’t feel my heart anymore,” she said in a voice that sounded like she was choking back tears. “It aches…”

I placed my hand on her breast, on the exact spot where her heart would be under the flesh beneath it.

“I assure you, sweet Fenella, that it is there, it is still…” I smiled at her, “and it is mine.”

“Yours…” she gasped. As the realization of what I was saying filtered through her mind, she said it again. “Yours…forever?”

“Forever.” I nodded, and her hand entwined with mine upon her breast.

“My maker…” she breathed, leaning into me and letting herself be held until the sun had finally sunk beyond the horizon.

Daughters of Darkness

Ideal listening… https://youtu.be/BaXSbsZoYnU

Vermillia nonchalantly drew the sigil into the earth and stepped onto it, taking them both to the home of Syrenna.

Winterbourne castle.

It was situated high up on a snow-capped hill, a shroud of thick fog around its walls. The aged stone of the walls still stood strong, even though they had stood while Syrenna herself had been a child.

It had weathered wars, magical and militaristic violence and centuries of time, and still stood strong.

Vermillia glanced at Dorothy, and had to suppress a grin at the look on the young girl’s face. It was the same look many people had when they saw the Winterbourne estate for the first time.

Shocked awe.

Vermillia suddenly became aware of Dorothy’s hand in hers. It was slender and warm, and it made Vermillia want to be with Karliah.

Releasing Dorothy, she led Dorothy into the castle drawing room, where her Queen was sat in a chair before a fire that burned in the hearth.

“Is there anything you require me to do, my Queen?”

“Why do you call her that?” Dorothy asked timidly, before clapping a hand over her mouth as she realized that she had spoken out of turn.

Both women stared at her.

“Call her what?” Vermillia replied, but Dorothy didn’t answer.

“Dorothy?” Syrenna coaxed.

“Why do you call her your Queen? Is she actually a monarch?”

Vermillia smiled.

“To us, she is. Syrenna has always been our ruler for as long as there has been a Torvarian Order. We call her that out of respect and love.”

“Do I have to?”

“Are you a Torvarian?” Syrenna said quietly.

“No.”

“Then no, you don’t. I have no issue with what you choose to call me, just as long as it is polite and respectful.”

Dorothy nodded.

“Vermillia, in answer to what you asked a moment ago, I wish you to go and ensure the Silver Moon are given suitable residence for the time being, then find a room for Dorothy.”

“Anything else?”

“No. I will call for one of you if I need you.”

Vermillia led Dorothy out of the drawing room, across the courtyard and into the west wing.

Inside, the Silver Moon were all sat in the large hall that was usually used for entertaining visiting mages. It was full of cobwebs but a fire was burning.

Their leader – a visibly balding and slightly overweight Asian man – gave Vermillia a barely veiled look of utter contempt.

“Where is Syrenna? She should have come here to talk to us in person. I have half a mind to – ”

“Yes you do.”

“Do what?”

“Have half a mind. So be quiet and listen, or I will hex your lips together – permanently.”

The man fell silent. In the reflection of a nearby mirror, Vermillia could see Dorothy trying not to laugh. The man saw her, and turned his anger on her.

“What are you laughing at, girl?”

“Nothing.” She quickly said.

“Good. Because if I catch you doing so at my expense, I will – ”

“You’ll what?” Vermillia interrupted, drawing his attention completely.

“Pardon?”

“What will you do? I’m curious to know. What will you do?”

The man squared his shoulders.

“I will punish her. A young witch like her needs to learn to respect her elders and superiors. She needs to learn her place.”

“Her place is above you. Because do be quite aware of this – if you or any of your pack of misogynistic jackals touch a hair on this girl’s head, not only will you draw the ire of myself, but you will incur something far worse.”

“And what’s that?”

“Let me put it this way. The girl is the biological heir to Syrenna. She is family to my Queen, and as such she is family to the Torvarian Order. Make no mistake when I tell you, I will take a great deal of pleasure in wiping your order of the face of the earth.”

The man took a step back, looking at Dorothy as if she was plague ridden. In the mirror, Dorothy was looking at her with suspicious eyes.

“Now, any of the rooms are in this wing are yours for your men to find a place to sleep. You are not to enter the east wing unless myself or another of the Black Order summon you. Is that clear?”

The mages nodded, and Vermillia left the room. Dorothy hurried along in her wake, clearly not wanting to be left alone.

“Excuse me? Miss LaChance?”

“Yes?”

“Did you mean that?”

“Mean what?”

“I’m family to you.”

Vermillia stopped and whirled to face Dorothy, ready to give her a verbal lashing.

Then she looked into Dorothy’s eyes and stopped as she realized that she actually was starting to see Dorothy as family.

“Yes. I do. As much as it makes me a little annoyed to say, you are starting to grow on me. I doubt that you and I  will ever be the best of friends, but I am not as willing to kill you as I was.”

“That’s… good, I think.”

Vermillia didn’t answer, turning and continuing back into the east wing, a small smile crossing her face at the look of confused bemusement that Dorothy had began to show as she walked away.

Cataclysm

As the field of Deireadh began to fissure under the strain of celestial war, the air turning red hot from the sheer magic all around them, Zeus confronted Odin, eyeing the one eyed false god with utter venomous hatred.

“Finally, you one eyed pretender. There is nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, so stand and face your end, old man.”

Odin impaled one of the Titans through the abdomen and propelled them through the air, then turned to face Zeus, an air of smug superiority radiating off him like a cloak.

“Pretender? Pangaea is mine, Zeus. You should have stayed in the South with your pretty little wife and bent the knee.”

“Clearly you have never met my wife…” Zeus smirked, knowing his wife Hera was wreaking havoc on the Kami only yards away.

“I will know her plenty when this is done, that I promise you, Zeus, when I find out what her innards look like.”

Enraged, Zeus summoned a lightning bolt and prepared to throw it.

Which was when it happened.

A bone freezing chill fell like a curtain over the field, made worse by the gale like wind that had suddenly begun to blow.

Zeus had never felt such a vicious cold, and glared at Odin.

“Is this your doing?” He snapped.

“Don’t lay blame when you are responsible!”

Infuriated, Zeus raised his arm to throw the bolt when an immense chasm opened in the middle of the field. He frowned, until be realized it could only be one thing.

Hades.

And the Underworlds were coming with them.

Meeting Of The Minds

Hades sat on his throne, one leg crossed over the knee of the other, his chin resting on the palm of his hand on the arm of the chair, eyes on the doorway but not seeing it.

He had been sat in the same position for hours, at a loss for what to do next. The proposition from Hel had come at a most inopportune moment, but it held such deep merit that the pull to act upon it was growing stronger and stronger.

The door to the throne room opened and his closest fellow Gods walked in. First came Morpheus, side by side with Nyx. Just behind them was Hecate, looking none too pleased at being there.

As the door swung shut, a black mist began to form, coalescing into the shape of Thanatos, who stayed where he was just to the left of Hades.

“My King.” Morpheus said softly, kneeling in fealty.

“Oh, get up Morpheus. This isn’t a time for pomp and ceremony. We have a crisis on our hands.” Hades snapped, straightening in his chair.

Hecate slumped down on one of the nearby chairs with a thump, and Hades turned to glare at her. “And what is your problem?”

“This entire thing is my problem. You want us to play nice with Hel, with Anubis… and yet we should be doing what needs to be done when someone threatens this Realm!”

“Do not raise your voice to me.” Hades shot to his feet. Advancing on Hecate, he continued to speak as a shadow filled the room, driven by his fury as it burst its dam and flooded out. “I am the King of the Underworld, Hecate. No other. You will do as you are told or I will hang your head from a spike at the gates of Tartarus as warning for those that think annoying me is a good idea, am I understood?”

Hecate fell silent, cowed into subdued acquiescence. The shadow dissipated and Hades returned to his seat.

“We play nice, as you said, because until we can be sure we have the advantage, we keep them within sight at arms length. They need to believe that we are agreeing to this peace, before we crush them like the pretenders that they are.”

“But why not keep the peace? Having the Underworlds together is sensible.” cried Morpheus. “We need to keep the borders to our realm up and ensure that they cannot invade.”

“Invasion is for mortals. Complete and utter subjugation or obliteration is the only thing these foolish people understand. And one or the other is what they will experience. I am done with peace. I am done with Hel and her crooked tongue. I am done with Anubis and his pompous sense of entitlement.”

“You’re declaring war…” Thanatos stated, his eyebrows raising in mild surprise.

“Yes. They will be led like lambs to the slaughter, following their blind comfort in our obedience and friendship, until we blind their eyes with the truth and drown them in the depths of their own darkness.”

Hecate smiled.

It was the first genuine smile Hades had seen from her in centuries, and it lit up her normally stoic face with a beauty surpassed by none in the Underworld, except perhaps his wife.

“Good. It’s about time.” She laughed, and it was a laugh drenched in malice and joy. She stood, gave a small nod and marched from the throne room.

Thanatos gave a respectful nod of his own and faded away, leaving Morpheus alone with Hades.

“This is a mistake. We need to barter a peace. The Overworld are in disarray, and the Underworlds don’t need the same. You need to – “

Hades grabbed him by the throat.

“I need to do nothing.” He seethed. “You are forgetting your place, Morpheus. I am the King, and I decide what happens. You will do as you are told, or I will find another God to monitor dreams.”

Pushing Morpheus to the floor, Hades stormed out of the throne room and up to his private study. When he slammed the door, he turned to see someone stood on the balcony, looking out over the realm of Tartarus.

She was tall, broadly built and carried an aura of bleak menace. Striding over, Hades made to grab her shoulder, but she turned and he stopped dead, his eyes locked on hers and the grotesque state of her face.

“Hello, Hades…” Hel said.

His Lady of Shadows

That delightful blush once again warmed up her porcelain flesh, one of the most enticing sights I had ever seen.

“Perhaps in time…,” she whispered, only to clear her throat and continue in an attempt at a stronger voice. “I am not afraid nor shy.”

As she said this, she tilted her head back and my world ground to a halt as the blue vein that gently pounded in the side of her supple throat became the centre of it.

I was so entranced that I almost missed her next words.

“There is a beautiful jugular in the thigh,” she muttered almost silently, swallowing hard at her own bravado.

“I am aware of that, child. But perhaps not today.”

With a soft shiver, she turned away from me, head still raised for the perfect access to that swan-like neck. My stomach rumbled a little, and an inescapable desire took over my senses.

I could feel the fine tremor that belied her nerves, that little quiver that a human gets when they realize that their time has just run out and the Reaper is breathing down their neck.

But that shiver was easily quelled, especially when my lips left fleeting, butterfly soft kisses along that pulsing blue line. Baring my fangs, I sought the perfect spot, just under the soft flesh of the throat itself where the blood flowed so freely.

Hushing her softly, I felt her body ease its rigid anticipation for a moment – the moment my fangs found their home in her supple skin.

To my surprise, she didn’t cry out or whimper as many humans did when my fangs pierced their veins. She took a single breath in through clenched teeth, her body melting into my embrace, her hand sliding up to cup the back of my head.

It was not a request for easement that most humans would have sought, but the slight tug of her hand on my nape suggested she wanted more. Sinking my fangs a little deeper I fed slowly, pulling her slim frame against me for a better feeding position.

The throaty moan that resounded in her neck was so sensual and guttural. I ran my tongue over the small punctures and bit again a little lower, the crimson that flowed sweet and hot.

Fenella was a marvel, not pulling away or seeking an end to the feeding, instead urging me closer, deeper into the feed. A thought of her complacency struck me, and I paused.

“You can always tell me to stop,” I whispered, low enough for her to shiver again. This was met by a shy yet challenging grin.

“Not until you have had enough,” she sighed, clearly content. At that moment, I would have drained every last drop, but she was so inquisitive and unique that it was difficult to do so.

“I could never have enough of you so sweet, so…exquisite,” I replied, my voice briefly dipping into a deep growl that sent a ripple of goosebumps across her fragile skin.

A delectable blush followed, turning her white skin into a brilliant shade of red. She sat up and glanced at the window, biting her thin little lip.

“It’s daybreak.  Shouldn’t you be resting? I will sit guard if you need me to or do you need more blood or,” she fell silent again at the steady gaze I was giving her.

“I don’t sleep much.  Insomnia is a curse for me as much as it is for humans. But I have had enough for now.” I smiled, nipping my thumb and letting a drop of blood run down her neck.

As it made contact with the bites on its slow path down her throat, they sealed up, no trace left that they had ever been there. I took hold of her and gently pulled her close and laid her head on my chest.

There was no heartbeat to hear, but she seemed to find  some comfort in the embrace.

“And sunlight!  Sunlight is a myth. It has no effect on me or my kind, except beyond being warm. At any rate, I find your company oddly soothing.”

That blush crept up her face again and she buried it looking away, her finger tracing idly across the top of my shirt. After shifting her weight a few times and a few furtive glances up at me, she found the courage to speak.

“So, can…may I ask you about yourself?”

I pondered the possible extent of her questions, and saw no threat to them, just the inquisitive nature of a young human, so I nodded, allowing her curiosity to run free.

“What would you like to know, child?” I smiled, letting her know she was able to ask her questions, my hand trailing through her soft, red locks.

She was quiet for a moment, perhaps not having thought she was going to get the chance to ask and was now searching for something that she wanted to know.

“Ummm…how long ago were you turned into a vampire?”

I smiled. It was a simple question, the one most asked when they tried to become friends with me and it always surprised them when they found out that I was older than most buildings.

“I was turned at seventeen, ninety three at the age of eighteen. I have been alive a very long time, child.” I told her. She didn’t answer, but her eyes widened in mute shock. “Is there anything else?”

Her finger continued to trace those odd shapes on my clothing as she said in a voice that shook a little, “Was it your choice?”

That question struck a nerve, forcing a memory so deeply buried to surface in my mind, making a tremor of anger rattle my body that she thankfully didn’t notice.

“No!.” I finally answered, hoping she would drop the issue. She seemed to sense that she had made me uncomfortable, as she squirmed a little in her grip and lowered her head.

Her voice was so timid, so nervous, that my unbeating heart went out to her. I used my finger to tilt her head up and kissed it softly in forgiveness.

“Don’t be afraid. It is the first time in a long time that anyone has ever asked me thatand the memory is not one I care to remember, not if I can help it.”

“I am the first one to ask?” She looked up at me with those guileless eyes. “But,I could lie here with you all day and find questions…if it pleased you.”

I gazed down at her, and realized something that surprised me a great deal. As much as I found humans annoying as a rule, this girl was the opposite, a breath of fresh air.

“I think I would enjoy that.” I surprised myself with my own words. “I find your thirst for information rather refreshing.”

“How else would someone get to know you, if they didn’t ask. Human or otherwise, you don’t know someone if you don’t try to find out their nature. Is everyone afraid of you, is that why they don’t ask?”

“Only those that know my past are afraid of me, as they know the animal that lies in my heart. But those who know are few and far between, and most of them are dead. But you do not seem afraid.”

She smiled, a smile that was quirked at the corners. Her eyes, however, had no sign of that smile. They shone with panicked sorrow and curiosity.

“It is a healthy fear,” she whispered, her voice barely louder than a sigh. “Born of respect. I know that even though I am lying here, untouched, you could end my life in the next thirty seconds.”

Her words were true, and almost shaking with her emotion. As I gazed into those beautiful green eyes, I felt my own shiver of emotion, and I knew what it was. She was so innocent and sincere, but seemed wise beyond her age.

“Do not be afraid of me, Fenella. Fear is what so many people feel when they know me, and it grows so tiresome. Besides,” I fixed my gaze on hers and grinned, my fangs peeking below my lip, “I can think of far better things to do than kill you.”

She smirked,she actually smirked at me, as if she had forgotten that my fangs were sharper than steel and would shred her life away extremely quickly.

“Really?” She chuckled, her finger briefly hooking into the waistband of my trousers before rising back up my chest, her courage perhaps deserting her.

“Yes,many things and quite a few involve you screaming, I admit.”

An eyebrow slowly rose, and the twinkle of playfulness lit up her eyes. When she spoke, her voice was dripping with faux innocence.

“And that’s a bad thing?” She asked, the challenge and implications clear as she bit her lip. I gazed at those small, white teeth pressing into that pink flesh, and a growl bubbled up.

“It depends. What if blood was not all I wished to take from you? What if I sought to take your pleasure? Make you beg for mercy because the ecstasy was too much to bear?”

My words clearly struck a nerve, as her lip fell free of her teeth and that spellbinding blush once again turned her a deep crimson as she squirmed.

Long moments passed, her indecision and arousal writ large on her young face, until she said words that held a fruitful promise.

“I am yours, no matter what. However you want me. Take me.”

As those words hung in the silence, I took her hand and stared into her eyes. The question I had was one that I couldn’t answer alone. What DID I want from her?

The Queen Returns

As the human army drew closer, Elias kissed Magda one last time before they both drew their knives and prepared to fight. Beside and behind them, countless others were doing the same.

Then, in the moment before Adele gave the order to fire, another sound echoed in the rain, making them all look round.

It was a creaking, a shifting, a deep, chthonic rumble wrapped up in one and only getting louder by the second.

Elias worked out where the noise was coming from in the second before the worst happened, and he immediately moved to block Magda from the worst.

The nearby tower block came tumbling down, falling like a dying beast, straight down on top of a nearby fuelling station. The resulting explosion was gigantic, and Elias moved to shield Magda from the debris.

When he looked up again, there was a wall of flames to their left, but everyone was looking at what was in front of it. It took Elias a moment, but when he realized, he suddenly felt a wave of utter horror.

There were five of them, stood imperious before the flames. They were nothing but silhouettes, but those five black figures – arms folded behind their backs – caused more terror than any army.

The figure in the middle was undoubtedly female, as was the one to her far left, the other three men. But it was the woman that was the cause of Elias’s fear.

He knew the other four, and by extension she could only be one. The Queen had returned, and what happened next could only be bad, as she would be extremely hungry.

Then, amidst the roar of the fire and the patter of the rain, she spoke.

“Humans, your leader will step forth.” She ordered in a voice that was irresistibly compelling. Adele Fontaine stepped forward, showing absolutely no fear of the Queen as she stopped a few feet away, smiling.

“What do you want?” Adele asked in that same smarmy, superior tone.

Ravenna didn’t move, not for a moment at least, then she darted forward and sank her teeth into Adele’s throat. Adele struggled but within seconds she had fell still, drained to the last drop.

Ravenna tore her own wrist open and fed her blood to Adele, letting her drop to the floor with a thud.

“Humans, hear me now. This is what awaits those who seek to harm any of my children… you will die, and you will be as one of them. Flee, now, and never raise arms against our kind, and humanity will live in peace. But if you choose to continue your crusade of bigotry and fearful extermination, we will bleed this world dry.”

Then, as if to cap off the speech, the imposing form of Reiko Briggs stepped forth and gave an absolutely bone chilling, feral roar that sent them scattering like quail.

Then Ravenna turned her attention to the vampires, and Elias felt his own heart sink – this was going to be bad….

Depths of Darkness

“You are missing the point, Morpheus. If this section of the Underworlds falls, the other two Kingdoms that my brothers own will fall soon after. That cannot be allowed to happen, so while you and Hecate have your bad blood, it must be washed away before the other Kingdoms overtake us.”

Morpheus stayed silent, even as he followed Hades onto a ridge overlooking the fields of Elysium.

The fields were leafy and fragrant, forever as green as the day they came into being. It was a place of peace, revelry and joy, where no tears were shed, and no hatred ever reared its ugly face.

The souls that dwelled there were eternally happy, blissfully unaware that the God of the Underworld and the God of Dreams were gazing down at them.

“What do you want me to do? Send her flowers?” Morpheus asked, his voice almost hypnotic. “You heard her. If I set foot in her chambers again, she will hex me into the next century.”

“She will not. All she wants is an apology, Morpheus. She is proud, and I cannot be too harsh on her for wanting her due share of respect.”

Morpheus nodded.

“You speak truly, Hades. I shall try and make amends with her. But if I cannot, I will still try to protect the denizens of Elysium and Tartarus.”

“Thank you. Perhaps enlist Thanatos.”

No sooner was the word from his mouth than dense black smoke coalesced into the form of the God of Death.

“You called, Hades?” He asked in a voice as dead as a grave.

“No. But while you are here, I need you to be ready to protect the souls here. Warriors from the other underworld realms may attempt to lay siege to our home. You must protect them as long as you can.”

“I shall be ready. They will not bypass me so easily, that I assure you.”

“Good. And Thanatos?” Hades added with a glance at Morpheus.

“Yes?”

“Try and recruit Hecate to assist you. She is rather annoyed at myself and Morpheus at the moment, so keeping her as far from us as necessary is a good idea.”

Thanatos gave a small nod and slowly faded away. Hades continued to watch the souls of Elysium, wondering if they could feel the foreboding chill of fate despite the magic of their abode.

“Hades?”

“Hmm?”

“What is troubling you, other than the state of the Underworld?” Morpheus asked, and it took only a sigh to know exactly what ailed the King of the Underworld.

“Persephone…”

“Hades, she – “

“She is pregnant.” Hades interrupted. It was the last thing Morpheus had expected, and his jaw thoroughly dropped.

“Pregnant?”

“Yes. Of all the times she becomes with child, it had to be now, when I cannot focus all my attentions upon her.”

“Would you like me to pop in on her? I can ensure she has peace, at any rate.”

“That is kind of you Morpheus. But I need you to set up a Miasma trap across the valley.” Hades pointed to the south, where the borders of their home connected to the other Realms.

“It will be done. Then I will check on the pit, ensure that Typhon is still securely sealed in place.”

“Good idea. Consult with the Hecatonchires as well.”

Morpheus nodded and strolled off across the valley. Hades stood where he was, his eyes on his Kingdom, but his thoughts on the realms above.

The Powers Three

The wind that whistled across the empty peak of Mount Olympus, the other Gods gone to seek whatever they wished to do one last time before the morning brought death to potentially all of them.

Only one stood on the peak, gazing down at his kingdom with a pensive expression. He was awaiting guests, and such a meeting was best viewed by no others, lest old hate and recrimination spill forth.

The weather across the way reflected his mood, the clouds dark, the odd flashes of lightning splitting the sky.

As he stared, lost in thought, a water spout rose from the floor, more and more clear liquid joining and warping until it finally fell away and his brother Poseidon was stepping up beside him.

“How much trouble are we actually in?” He asked with no preamble.

“The other Kingdoms seek to claim Olympus, which means they will march on our home as soon as possible. Tomorrow morning, they all begin their marches. At least, that is what the spies in their ranks have told us.”

“War it is, then. But if they all march upon Olympus at once, they will not reach our borders, as they will meet in the field of Deireadh before.”

“Which is where they must be met, and where they must be kept. They cannot reach Olympus, and I intend to ensure they don’t.”

“So you want to reunite the Kings? Hades will never go for this.”

“All I can do is hope. Do you think Odin will settle for command only of the Overworld? I think not. He will seek to have that ghastly Hel woman reap the Underworlds.”

“And our dear brother would not like that one bit… that is true. You think he will show?”

“Who?” A rich, deep voice said from behind them, and both brothers turned to see their other brother stood not ten feet away, hands behind his back, fixing both with an annoyed but somehow intimidating stare.

“Brother!” Poseidon smiled, a smile that was not returned.

“Why have you summoned me here, Zeus, of all moments? Right when the Overworld and Underworlds are at an apex of disorder, you pull me away from my duties.”

“This chaos is exactly why I have asked for your presence, Hades. The three Kings must stand united once more. This petty divide between our Realms must end.”

“End? END?! You were the one who split our Realms and made me caretaker of that wretched pit!” Hades bellowed, his voice ringing out so loud that Poseidon winced.

“And for that I am sorry.”

“Oh, grow up. You have never been sorry for a thing in your life. The Almighty Zeus is never wrong, and never sorry.” 

“Brothers, calm yourselves. Let us discuss this like civilised beings, protect our Realms and then we can go back to hurling insults at one another.” Poseidon pleaded, putting a wall of water between the pair of them.

From both sides, his two brothers glared at him, but he didn’t drop it until Hades had retreated another twenty feet away.

“Brother, we need peace. If only for one day, we need peace.” He told Hades, who gave him a gaze that said more than words ever would.

“Is Tartarus really that bad?” Zeus asked.

“In general, or now?” Hades scoffed.

“Now.”

“It is worse than ever. The Titans we have down there are trying constantly to break free, and I am forced to fend off constant advances from Hel to bend the knee to Odin.”

“She wants you to bend the knee?”

“Yes. She wants the Underworlds united under her watch, in the possession of Odin and his treacherous rule.”

“The stupid hag…. Tartarus is yours. Not Odin’s or hers.”

“Exactly. Do not fear. Hel will never hold the Underworlds while I am alive.”

“Good.”

“What of the Overworld? Thanatos said you were all preparing for a war.”

“Tomorrow. The other Kingdoms march on Olympus tomorrow, and we will be there to stop them before they even arrive.”

“Good. If Olympus falls, so will Tartarus, and then I will be of no help whatsoever. The Titans must stay imprisoned.”

“I have trusted you to keep them locked away, Hades, and I still do.” Zeus said, turning to look down at the innocent humans below.

Poseidon gave Hades a glance, then joined him again. A moment later, there was a sigh of annoyance, then Hades was stood the other side of him.

For a moment, the three brothers stood side by side, at peace for the first time in centuries of conflict, gazing down at the mortals.

“Zeus, you are right. This needs to end, this animosity between us. You have my word, Tartarus will stand firm against those that come to claim it.”

“Thank you, Hades. Once this is over, we will rebuild the bonds that have been broken.”

“Will you need me tomorrow, Zeus, or shall I hold Atlantis in check?”

“Hold Atlantis, but be prepared to send armies if needs be.”

Poseidon nodded.

“And I shall hold Tartarus.” Hades nodded.

“Thank you.” Zeus replied. There was a short, tense silence, then Hades cleared his throat.

“I take my leave, brother. The Titans won’t keep themselves locked up.”

“Fair skies, brother.”

Hades chuckled softly, then before leaving in a cloak of black fog, remarked, “there are no skies in Tartarus…”

And he was gone.

Poseidon frowned.

“Did Hades just make a joke?”

“I think he did. Maybe things are worse down there than we thought.”

Laughing, Poseidon nodded and vanished in a water spout, leaving Zeus all alone with his thoughts.

When Worlds Collide.

Today is a post to remind people of the deadline for the anthology. This is a collection designed to showcase the depth of talent we have in the indie author scene, and to introduce more people to their works.

If you are interested in applying, please DM me at @Ryan_OHara91 with your full name, genre and title of work.

1. Deadline is last day of July

2. 7000 words maximum.

3. If you are writing in the erotica genre, please make it clear so a warning can be placed on the book.

The Coldest Heart chapter one

The cabin was quiet now. It was an empty and unnerving silence, made all the more tense by the lack of a fire burning in the hearth and the slow, ominous rumbling of thunder outside.
Dorothy had crawled into a corner, her knees up around her chin as she hoped the remaining two residents would leave her be.
The hooded figure had ordered four of them to go and recruit as many willing followers as possible by any means necessary and they had immediately vanished.
Before that, she had shocked all of them by almost effortlessly creating a new hand – it appeared to be made of an inky black substance – which she affixed to Karliah’s wrist.
This had left her with Shyra, who had departed into the kitchen of the cabin, and the hooded figure. Dorothy was certain she knew who was under the hood, and felt a mixture of terror and failure at being the one responsible for her being there.
She was quiet, testing her magic with small spells. In the space of a few minutes, she had reduced a table to dust and back again, then made a fire burn bright in the hearth before she snuffed it out like a candle.
Not once had she looked in the direction of Dorothy, which made her feel nervous about when she would, and what would happen next.
Shyra came back into the living room with a trio of small bowls. She placed one on a side table before handing the first of the other two to the hooded figure who nodded slightly and took the bowl with shaking, frail fingers.
Shyra then brought the other to Dorothy, who pointed a finger at her.
“Stay away from me.” She hissed, the tremble of fear in her voice betraying her. Shyra paused a moment, but chose to kneel down in front of Dorothy, holding the bowl out with a sad smile.
“You need to eat, Dorothy. I know you are scared, and hurt, but I have never and will never harm you. Please, eat.”
“No. You lied. How could you betray the White Order and be working for these people? They’re murderers! They’re evil!”
“Firstly, I work with them, not for them. And for your information, you have no concept of the things I have done in my life. I’m a murderer too, Dorothy, and I regret it. I do. But I have never taken the life of an innocent, and I will not start with you. Please, take this and eat.” Shyra pleaded, her voice almost broken with guilt and tears.
Dorothy frowned, torn with indecision. She knew Shyra was being sincere, but she couldn’t bring herself to take the bowl.
Shyra hesitated before taking a second choice and placing the bowl in front of Dorothy, a few inches away from her feet before moving to the sofa and eating her own.
Dorothy looked back and forth from Shyra to the hooded figure and back again, wondering what could have made Shyra – a woman who had seemed so friendly and honest – turn her back on people that had called her friend, protected her and maybe loved her.
Then her stomach rumbled. Sighing, she reached out and picked up the bowl.
To her surprise, it was noodles with some vegetables and chunks of chicken. She looked up and saw Shyra smile sadly at her before she returned to her own meal.
Slowly, she made her way through the bowl, which was delicious and perfectly cooked. She still didn’t trust Shyra, but the fact that she had cared enough to ensure Dorothy ate and stayed well was enough to take a little of the edge off of her nerves.
Once she was finished, she set the bowl down and glanced at the hooded figure. She was still slowly and methodically eating the food with her fingers.
Whenever she tilted her head back, Dorothy caught glimpses of pale, wizened flesh that was slightly blue, but she seemed not to see Dorothy staring – or she didn’t care.
“Are you warm enough?” Shyra called, and both of them looked at her. She was evidently talking to Syrenna, as her eyes were fixed on her, not Dorothy, as she conjured a small but unnaturally warm fire.
Syrenna nodded, just a little, as she pulled the cloak around herself with skeletal, chalk white fingers. Shyra glanced at Dorothy, who tried not to stare. She was more curious than scared, and sure enough her own inquisitive nature caused a question to burst free.
“Why are you pale?” she blurted before clapping a hand on her mouth. Neither of the two women even looked at her, and Dorothy thought for a moment that they hadn’t heard her.
Then Syrenna slowly turned to gaze directly at her, making a shiver of absolute terror rattle her spine.
For a brief moment, Syrenna frowned in apparent recognition, but it was gone a split second later. She seemed to be considering her answer.
“I am pale…” she said quietly, her voice creaky and weak, the effort of speaking seemingly enormous and painful, “because… the resurrection… only restored… me to a body… not to full… reanimation…”
“So you are stuck like that?” Dorothy asked timidly.
“For now…” Syrenna nodded, drawing her cloak a little tighter around her. Shyra was glaring at Dorothy in a reproachful fashion, as if warning her not to ask further questions.
Dorothy couldn’t help it though as she loudly blurted, “Are you going to kill me?”
“Dorothy, hush.” Shyra snapped.
“Let… the girl… speak.”
“Are you going to kill me?”
“Dear… child… why would… I kill… the one… who gave me… my life… back? You… deserve… the world… for what… you have… done…” Syrenna told her, a surprisingly warm smile crossing her wizened, pale face.
Dorothy was horrified.
“I don’t want a reward. Releasing you was a mistake, a horrible mistake. I wasn’t to know I would open the door, I was just so… angry!”
“And anger… is… often… the downfall… of even the… proudest… of people… but all… the same… I think you… should be… rewarded… for it… when I am… whole again…”
“I hope you never are.” Dorothy spat, aware she was insulting a deadly witch. Shyra reeled back in shock as if she was the one Dorothy has snapped at.
“Dorothy!” She gasped, glancing between the two of them as if worried Syrenna would attack Dorothy – a very real possibility.
Syrenna simply gazed, not moving or speaking, and Dorothy suddenly feared for her life, more than ever as the smile was gone.
“Fear is useful… child… it shows… us… the true nature… of people… And I know… that right now… you may… hate me… with all of… your heart… but a time… may come to… pass… where you… don’t.”
“That will never happen. You and Shyra are both the same. You are liars and murderers!”
“Dorothy, please hush.” Shyra pleaded.
“No. You lost the right to tell me to do anything when you gave your soul to these… these… monsters!” Dorothy spat.
She was too angry to be afraid. She was almost certain that Shyra was not going to hurt her, and she hoped Shyra would intervene if the ghoulish Syrenna chose to attack.
“I had no choice. None whatsoever. You are young, you are naïve and you are foolish. I have killed people far greater and more powerful than you, Dorothy, and there has not always been a way out of it.”
“Then why aren’t you like them? You still look normal.”
“You wouldn’t understand. You can’t see past your adolescent beliefs that people are good or evil. You don’t see that sometimes you must do what is necessary, and there are times that what is right is not the simplest choice. So don’t you dare sit there and judge me when you know nothing of life!”
Dorothy reeled back – she was utterly taken aback by the sheer venom in her voice. Shyra was furious, her hands flexing as if she wished to throttle Dorothy.
“But you betrayed the others? Why?”
“I didn’t betray anyone.” Shyra seethed, her furious eyes locked on Dorothy. “When you are a White witch, Ravenstone is the safest place, and I am not a White witch. Not anymore. My residence at Ravenstone was a matter of safety, Dorothy, there is nothing for me there.”
“Not even Imane?” Dorothy asked, and momentary guilt flashed across Shyra’s face before she grew angrier.
“Don’t ever mention her name. She is dead to me. I can never return to Ravenstone, and never return to her. I am a Torvarian, Dorothy, and that will never change.”
“It can. Go back. Tell them the truth.”
“I can’t go back. I murdered Artemisia Torrance.” Shyra spat, shocking Dorothy to the core.
“What? That was you?”
“She is dead because of me. I killed her, and I enjoyed it.” Shyra smiled, her voice shaking out of some unidentifiable emotion. She stood, took the bowl from Syrenna and left the room, leaving Dorothy alone with the ancient Black witch.
Syrenna was gazing at the door Shyra had left through, and they heard the front door slam, Shyra having apparently gone outside for fresh air. Then she looked at Dorothy, who became all too aware that she was now alone with her.
“Are… you scared… of me… child?” Syrenna croaked. Dorothy shook her head, trying hard to mask her fear. “It is… rude… to lie…”
“Fine! I’m afraid! Is that what you want to hear? Does it make you happy to know that I’m terrified?” Dorothy snapped, her fear making the attempted anger futile due to her breathless voice.
“Not in… the least… dear child…”
“What?”
“I have… no reason… to benefit… from your… terror. You… have… given me… my life… back… and for that… I owe… you the… world. If it… is in my… power to give… I shall… give it.”
“I don’t want anything from you.”
Under the cloak, Dorothy saw Syrenna’s lips quirk upwards in a small, wry smile. After what seemed like eternity as Dorothy waited for her to speak again, Syrenna reached up with her deathly pale hands and lowered her hood.
Dorothy gasped.
She was horrifying. Her skin was as pale as chalk, her veins a black spider web highly visible under her skin, giving her the appearance of being made of cracked glass.
Her eyes were milky white, but she could apparently see Dorothy just fine. She was skeletally thin, her bones protruding from under her skin. Her lips were the deep blue of corpses.
It appeared that she was in the most simple and rudimentary body that the resurrection was capable of, and the sight of it was nightmarish to the extent that Dorothy abandoned all her pretense of not being scared and tried to push herself into the wall.
Her actions brought a sincere and warm grin to Syrenna’s face as she rose and slowly stalked towards Dorothy.
Kneeling in front of her, she simply stared for a moment, then the smile faded away before she spoke so quietly it was hard for Dorothy to hear.
“Do I… scare you..?” She asked, and Dorothy nodded. “Why?”
“Because I know that you are going to kill me even though you said you owe me. It’s what you people do.”
“I would be… very careful… who you… call a… murderer… young lady… because… there is… nothing… stopping them… from killing… you.”
“So you are going to kill me? Why not just do it and get it over with? I’m of no further use to any of you. Or am I just a hostage?”
Syrenna didn’t answer her, but gazed at her with those eerie eyes and unnerving smile, and Dorothy knew in that second that she was going to die if she stayed in the cabin.
“Death… comes for… us all… dear girl. It… even came… for me. So yes… you may… die here… or die… somewhere else. But while… you are here… I will… keep you… safe… as way to… pay the debt… I owe.”
Dorothy nodded slightly as she began to realize exactly what she had done, and that the most powerful Black witch was in her debt.
“I ask you let me go.”
“Pardon?”
“You said you owe me. I want you to let me go.”
“No.”
“You said if it was in your power, you would do it. Let me go.”
“Do you… not understand… child? I am not… strong enough… to protect you… from my… people. If I free… you now… they will… kill you. If you wish… to leave… allow me… to become my… old self again. Then you… may leave… safely. You have… my word.”
“I don’t trust the word of a murderer.”
“I have not… killed anyone in… over six hundred… years.”
“That means nothing. If you get your body back, you’ll kill again.”
“We will… see.” Syrenna shrugged slightly, then made to get up before looking back. “I suggest… you get… some rest. We all have… a great… struggle… ahead.”
With that, Syrenna left the room, heading in the direction of the small bedroom.
Dorothy watched her go, suddenly more afraid than ever before. She was in a cabin filled with people that were happily waiting to kill her, and she was all alone.
Pulling her knees up to her chest, Dorothy began to sob.

Welcome one and all

Step inside the home of the Ravenstone saga, the Norse World Duology, the Family Chronicles and the upcoming Vampire Wars series