by L A Kennedy
“Sidriel,” Amity sang out from deeper down the hall.
“Why can’t you call me Sid, like everyone else does?” Sid called back.
Her giggle echoed against the walls. “Sidriel is your name, is it not?”
She flowed out of the hall, more graceful than ever before. Amity didn’t just move. She glided, the way sunbeams shone down through thick forest. She had gained perfect control of her Vampyre side within a few hours of waking. Part of that was due to her perfect breeding and training, and part of it was because of who she was, the real Amity. Over this past week, she had grown with her freedom. Twice, during dinner, she had turned down different foods. Why? Because she’d said they tasted like shit. Everyone blamed Sid for her new-found vocabulary and behavior. Amity didn’t. She thanked him every day.
Amity had grown close to Neri. A piece of her soul, after all, was tucked inside Neri for all time. More than that, Amity understood why Zylan loved Neri more than life and death. Neri was beautiful and smart, brave and fearless. She was a warrior in her own way. She fought with her mind and her soul.
Amity had grown close to everyone at the compound. She spent time with Riam—origin unknown to everyone—who was a pillar of calm and had a love so powerful deep inside him for each and every comrade there. Each death of an innocent he’d said felt like a bullet to the head, Amity agreed. Amity knew that Riam was what most men could only aspire to become.
Bane had taken Amity under his sniffer wing. He’d spent countless hours with her, keeping her safe, but teaching her how to use all of her senses to her advantage. Teaching her how to smell a lie, how to smell weakness, but, more importantly, how to smell danger. He’d taught her to trust the prickles of gooseflesh that would cover her at the oddest of times. He’d taught her how to be on constant alert in the back of her mind, while enjoying the smaller pleasures of life. Bane had taught her how to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Amity said she loved his laughter most, loved how it would fill up his eyes and burst out in liquid joy.
Amity loved spending time with Desdemona Bloodworth, orphan, Prophetyc and, in Des’ words, a half-breed. She was everything Sidriel had told Amity she was, but more. Amity could see the future in her eyes. She could see hope, and Amity felt solid around her. Des—as she preferred to be called—grounded everyone. She sheltered all from a storm, taking it all and protecting those who couldn’t fight. Knowing Des gave Amity a backbone. She’d watched Des go toe to toe with each man here, and never once would she back down. She had an opinion, and death was the only thing that could keep that opinion safely inside her. But Amity saw that the part every Slayer loved most about Des was the fire that burned inside her for Cael.
Meeting Cael had been a special treat for her. She’d never met a man like him before. She saw parts of him that inspired her. He wasn’t as friendly as the rest. It wasn’t because he didn’t care. It was because he cared so much. He was usually lost in his own world of constant worry. The only silence he received was when Des was touching him. She grounded him and focused him. He clung to her like a life raft. Cael was fearless, protective and thought of himself as the Aegys for them all, their protector. He would sooner die than fail them. Amity found strength in Cael, and she watched him speak as though he was a god. She nodded and would take notes, wanting to learn from the man who would die for people he didn’t even know.
Then there was Sidriel—Sid to his friends. Amity called him by his whole name, only because she enjoyed his wrinkled brow and frown. Sidriel was stuck between doing what was right overall and doing what was right in that very moment. He wanted to save everyone but wasn’t allowed. He wanted to jump in head first, without looking. Amity knew that his heart was in constant pain, pain for those he failed and those he knew he’d fail. He could see farther down the road than anyone here, including Riam. He would trade his life for any one of them, but he didn’t have a life to trade. His life was not his to barter with. He existed. He didn’t live. Amity spent each day reminding him that he was not an object. He was a being with choice, as he’d once told her—only his choices were shaped by fate, not destiny.
“Sidriel, can we go out dancing?” Amity called down the hall, still twirling and breathing in the smells that hung in the air. “I listened to Desdemona and one of your new recruits, Able, speaking of a dancing house downtown.”
“A club? You want to go to a club?” Sid asked, stepping away from the wall.
Amity poked her head out of the darkness of the hall and nodded.
“I want to celebrate my death. I was not granted a Reaping. There has been no celebration,” Amity said, her eyes almost begging him. “Please, Sidriel—just one hour.”
“You will need to change. I’ll have to round up a few Slayers,” he agreed.
“Slayers? That is not a celebration. That is a hunt. I do not wish to go on a hunt, although Bane has stated I would make an excellent Slayer,” Amity said, planting her feet firmly and staring Sidriel in the eyes.
“They don’t have to be with us, but I can’t take you down there alone. I won’t risk it. We either have a few Slayers spread out, just in case, or it’s a no go.”
Amity wrinkled her nose then nodded. “Deal.”
Sidriel shook his head. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“You can’t die, so don’t pout.” Amity giggled and tore off running back into the darkness of the hall. “Desdemona! I need clothes. Sidriel is taking me to a dancing house… A club. He’s taking me to celebrate.”
* * * *
Wearing skintight black leather pants, a black sparkly backless shirt that tied around her neck with one strap around her shoulders, black boots just under her knees with a small heel, her hair pulled into a tight ponytail and a dash of makeup, she met Sidriel in the front room. She knew she’d aced all ten steps by the look on his face.
Zylan met her first, giving her a small box. He told her that it was a gift he’d picked up a few days before. It was meant to be given when they returned to Sola-Nosfer. Smiling, she opened the box. Inside, a small bracelet, a little charm with three hearts hung off of it. Her hands shook as she lifted it from the box.
“I will treasure this for all time, sire. Thank you,” Amity whispered, allowing Zylan to place it around her wrist.
“It’s from both Neri and me. No matter the outcome, we will always be grateful for the time you have given us,” Zylan said, placing a small kiss on her forehead. “And please, stop calling me sire. I am Zy to you, always.”
Neri stepped forward, clutching Amity’s hands. “I will forever love and cherish you. You are with me forever.”
Bane gave her a small charm to add to her bracelet. “It is engraved with the marking of my people. If ever you are in trouble, you may give this charm, and you will be taken to my people. Show them this, and they will find me. I will find you, always.”
Ester, the resident doc, stepped forward with her own charm. “This is a symbol of strength. When you are at your weakest, I give you my strength to see you through the darkness.”
As each person stepped forward, her charm bracelet filled up with little tokens of how much they really cared for her. She was left speechless. She hadn’t realized that so many of them truly saw her or cared so much for the woman whom fate had decreed would take one of their men from them.
Riam stepped up and took a moment, looking her in the eyes. She could feel the weight of his stare pushing on her soul. He placed a small charm on her bracelet, a small flashlight. “To help you find your way back from the darkness, always.”
Sidriel was last. One solid heart, placed on her bracelet, had meant more than the rest. They both stepped outside and were off into the night. Sid would drive and six others would be set up around the club. He wouldn’t bring her to Blood Alley, even though the clubs were the best the city had to offer. It was far too dangerous for her there.
She spent the trip excited. No one had guessed she had a plan beyond dancing. It took an hour to drive there, and
she filled the time with talking about little things she’d never noticed before. She wasn’t trained to talk about things unless it was of interest to her mate. But tonight, she filled the air with topics that made Sid smile and laugh.
“We’re almost there,” Sid called out to her.
She turned her face to him, her smile ear-to-ear. Her excitement added to his. He now looked just as eager as she felt. A first for her, and, in a way, she knew this was a first for him.
They parked and walked up the sidewalk, around the long line of partygoers. Sid gave his name at the door. A man dressed in black gave a nod and lifted a red rope. The doors opened, and they were both hit with heat and the sound of bass. Sid pulled her in behind him. They checked their coats and headed straight for the dance floor.
The songs changed, bleeding from one to the next, Amity not missing a beat. Song after song, she danced. Finally coming to a stop, she touched her throat, signaling thirst. Sid pointed toward the bar and grabbed her hand, pulling her back out of the sweating and pulsating crowd.
He grabbed two bottles of water, and they moved over to a small table on the edge of the dance floor.
“That was amazing,” Amity yelled over the music.
Sid pointed to his watch. She didn’t want to end the night, but she knew she shouldn’t keep Slayers from the field.
Amity leaned in, still smiling. “Thank you, Sidriel. This has been the best night of my life.”
Sid nodded in agreement. “This has been one of the best nights of my existence. I don’t want it to end, but we must go.”
“I need to go to the Ladies room before we depart,” Amity said. It was time for her ultimate plan.
Sid pointed to the back, to a door with a white figure in a dress. Following her to the bathroom, he waited against the wall, while Amity stepped inside.
The bathroom was like every other bathroom she had seen on television and in books. Or magazines, as Des had called them. It smelled worse than she had thought it would. She could smell urine and vomit, sweat and what Bane would have called desperation. She scanned the room, finding small windows lining the top of the ceiling, against the back. Tucking herself into the stall, she climbed up and unlatched the window.
She knew where the other Slayers were. They wouldn’t see her climbing out and into the alley below. Pulling herself up and out, she dropped then rolled on the ground below, skinning her elbows. Her heart pounded with her decisions, but they were hers to make.
She ventured farther down into the alley, letting her sense of smell guide her. At the end of the alley, to the right, she found him—a complete stranger who smelled of regret and anger. He leaned against a wall, a needle hanging out of his arm. He pumped in the rest of his poison and pulled the needle out, tossing it to the ground.
He stepped forward. “You’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere, blondie.”
It took her two tries, but she finally spoke, stepping closer to him. “No wrong turns.”
His lips parted in a smile, exposing rotting teeth. “What can I do for you, pretty lady?”
Amity pulled the top button loose on her pants, trying for a sultry grin, the kind she had seen in the movies.
The man filled with poison stepped forward, pulling his jeans open. “I think I can help you out there.”
“No, you can’t,” Sidriel spoke, stepping down the alley.
“Mind your business, mister,” the druggie spoke up, glaring toward the voice. The sound of a gun clicking changed his mind. He pulled his pants closed and stepped away. “I’m good. I’m gone. I don’t need this shit.”
Sidriel stepped up to Amity with her coat on his arm as the druggie ran off down the alley, back to safety. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Amity grabbed her jacket and pulled it on, ashamed but angry. “You have no right to intervene, Sidriel. As you said yourself, it is my life, my choice.”
“Give me a good goddamn reason why you were about to fuck some disease-infested crackhead, and I’ll go drag him back here for you. Hell, I’ll keep your six until you’re done. But the reason better be life or fucking death, Amity. Any other reason isn’t good enough.”
Amity looked back at Sid, her cheeks flushed from embarrassment. “To save Zylan and Neri. If I am tarnished, he will not be forced to marry me. If I am ruined, he will not have to leave his Fyrvor. So yes, it is life or fucking death, Sidriel. To me, it is.”
Her words started strong and angry, only to end as a whisper, filled with shame. She would take it—and more—to save Zylan and Neri, to keep their love alive. She would carry that shame with her for all time, for them.
“You know how you want to do something to save someone, but you’re stopped each time? That’s how I feel in this moment. You took away my choice to do what I could do. I have limited options, Sidriel, and you just took away the only one I had. Why? Why would you do that?”
Sid pulled her into his arms, walking her back out of the alley. “I will help you, Amity, but not like this—never like this. You cannot give yourself to someone who doesn’t care about your life or your love.”
He helped her into the car and climbed in, driving back in complete silence. She knew that he could identify with how she was feeling in this moment. To try to do something to help someone, only to be blocked in the end—to be willing to sacrifice yourself for someone else, only to be stopped when you’ve come so close. Amity knew Sidriel had been in her shoes, maybe not in some dank back alley, but he’d hit the same level of desperation.
He opened the door for Amity, holding out his hand for her. He watched her try to collect herself before stepping out. She was always a model of perfect breeding, never showing weakness or emotion. “I will help you, Amity.”
“The only way you can help me is to ruin me for him, and he will hate you for it,” Amity answered.
“I know. But don’t worry about me. They’ve all hated me at one time or another. And I’m sure they’ll hate me again for some other reason.”
Amity gripped his hand tighter. “Swear to me, on your honor, that you will help me.”
Sid swallowed and gave his word. Amity jumped into his arms, wrapping hers around his neck, kissing his cheek.
“Thank you, Sidriel. Thank you,” she said, over and over. Her smile was back to its usual delight. With a bounce in her step, she led them back into the house.
Most of the Slayers were gone out on hunts. Zylan was with Neri in her lab. Amity could hear her laughter carry down the halls. Des and Cael were out on separate hunts, but soon the house would fill with the sound of them reuniting.
Amity didn’t waste time. She pulled him straight to his bedroom, a place where they had both spent a lot of time together, usually lying on the floor, talking about things she didn’t understand and him doing his best to explain them, usually without success.
Amity stripped out of her clothing and placed herself face up on the bed. She closed her eyes and steadied her breathing. She was schooled in the art of lovemaking. She knew this would hurt. She’d been told that sex would probably hurt every time her mate came to her hips.
Sidriel dropped his clothes on the floor and climbed onto the bed beside her, placing his hand on her stomach. “Open your eyes, Amity. Please. I can’t do this—not like this, not when all I can smell is your fear.”
Amity opened her eyes, turning her head to Sid. “Please, Sid, please just do it. I’m sorry. I’m sorry this will not be what you are accustomed to, but I beg of you, just do it.”
Sid climbed on top of her, putting himself between her thighs. He rested his elbows under her shoulders, holding her face.
“You’re beautiful, Amity. You deserve the stars and moon,” Sid whispered, rubbing his thumbs over her cheeks. He whispered little bits of sweetness until she opened her eyes again.
Amity finally smiled. “Thank you, Sid.”
She slowly lifted her head, placing her lips against his, not because she had seen this done by others or on television, bu
t because she wanted nothing more than to kiss him. Sid lowered his hand and prepared her as best he could. With one slow movement, he pushed himself into her, eating her whimpers with his mouth.
Her fate was sealed with a kiss.
Both of them sealed their destinies in that moment.
* * * *
Zylan looked up from the floor, sitting at Neri’s feet as she worked at her laptop. He rubbed his sternum, feeling the same pressure he’d felt before. Chalking it up to exhaustion, he stood, lifting his Fyrvor into his arms. She didn’t fight him. At one time, he knew that she would have fought tooth and nail to remain working—but not with Zylan, not ever with him.
He carried her back to his room—their room—placing her gently on the bedding. He retrieved her night clothes and turned his back, giving her privacy. Neri had said she thought he was being silly, but Zylan couldn’t help it. He waited for her to dress then he tucked her into bed, crawling in beside her, his boxer shorts still on. The thought of being nude with her made his stomach flop. She deserved more than that. After what she’d been through, he wouldn’t dare make her endure something that made her feel even the slightest bit of discomfort. He was there to keep her safe, not press his nudity onto her.
Spooning her, the pressure in his chest released. Being close to Neri did that for him. His worries would leave just as soon as they would settle.
“What’s wrong, Zy?” Neri whispered into the dark.
“I don’t know. Something felt off, but it’s gone now,” Zylan responded, pulling her tighter.
“Look into it tomorrow. Don’t ignore it. I’ve heard a few people say the same thing these past few days.”
With a nod, Zylan let it go for the night. He knew something was wrong, but couldn’t put his finger on it. He’d mentioned it to Riam, who’d said nothing, as if he’d say anything at all. The sky could be falling around him, and Riam wouldn’t have mentioned it. Sid? Well, that was a lost cause. Sid spoke in riddles, if at all.
