by Amy Sumida
“A new security measure is being installed.” Slate grimaced. “Tell them that we're digging beneath the Zone to set it up and they have nothing to fear. It will be done soon.”
“Security measure?” Jago growled. “You think that's going to fly?”
“Just fucking calm them down!” Slate shouted. “We can't have a riot in a locked zone!”
“Yes, Sir!”
Darcraxis swayed and it wasn't from the quakes, but he still brought his hand down sharply to reopen the wound. Every cut hurt me as well; every slice brought another shot of fear. I couldn't watch it anymore; not while I did nothing. As Darc lifted the blade again, I went straight into the chorus of “New Blood” by Zayde Wolf.
It was a battle song; a song about conquering. But I knew I could twist its chorus to suit my needs. Darc needed more blood, and that's exactly what the song and I were going to get him. The dramatic pound of the music rose around us, each thump mimicking a heartbeat until it felt as if it was my heartbeat. I felt the power rise and shoot out to my husband like an arrow.
Darc gasped and straightened, his stare going to mine. He held my gaze as he brought the blade down again. I winced but kept singing, kept giving him what he needed to help us. The singing turned into chanting, and I swayed with its strength. The words held a challenge but also a promise; I'd be as tenacious as any conqueror. Darc was mine, and I wouldn't let him go. I gave him all I could and felt the blood fill his veins; pumping through his God heart.
“Enough,” Darc declared. “I don't need your magic. Trust in me, my fire. I am strong enough for this.”
The words shivered in my mouth. I stuttered to a stop as Kyanite cut the music. At first, I was a bit offended. We supported each other; that's what we did. Hadn't he just said so to Slate? But then I realized that this was a test for Darc. Proof his divinity. He knew I could save him if he needed saving, but he was hoping he didn't. He wanted to see just how far his immortality had progressed. How close to his old self he'd become.
Darcraxis cut again. And again. His blood poured into the Zone, sucked down as if the soil had needed this nourishment alone. The quakes increased in magnitude but the Beneathers had stopped panicking. I wished I could say the same. I looked away from Darc for a moment, over at the calm city. When I turned back to my husband, he was leaning forward on his palms; one pressed over the dagger's hilt while blood pooled around the other.
“Darc!” I rushed forward.
Torin steadied Darcraxis while I took his uninjured arm.
“That's enough.” I took the dagger from him.
“I can give a little—” Darc's eyelids fluttered.
“No!” I practically shouted. “Gage, can you help Torin get Darc into the Jeep?”
“Of course.” Gage took my place at Darc's side, and Darc braced himself on the shorter men.
Using them as crutches, Darcraxis stumbled to the Jeep and collapsed in the back seat just as the quakes quieted.
We froze, all of us staring around the area as if Gargo might suddenly manifest, laughing like a maniac and telling us how pathetic our attempt had been. But nothing appeared and the Zone went as still as we had.
“Is that it?” Banning asked.
“I don't know,” I whispered. I had followed Darc to the Jeep and stood near where his head was propped. “Darc?”
“I'm well,” Darc said in a steady voice as he sat up. “No need for more of your music, although I would enjoy it nonetheless.”
I smiled in relief. “It's good to be a God.”
“Indeed.” He held his hand out to me, and I took it. “Does the Zone require more blood? I believe I have already recouped the loss.”
I looked at Slate; he was frowning at the Zone in general.
“I think we should see how it went first,” I suggested. “Slate?”
“It feels calm,” Slate murmured as if he didn't trust it.
Then Slate blinked and turned to face us more confidently. He was still standing at the site of Darc's bloodletting, his brothers beside him. He started for us and his brothers followed.
“Jago,” Slate spoke into the radio as he walked.
“We're all good,” Jago reported.
“I need you to send a couple of Jeeps to the place where Gargo was buried.”
“That's where you are?” Jago asked incredulously.
“That's where we had to go to save the Zone,” Slate growled. “I've got Elaria's men with us and we—”
“That's not necessary,” Darc cut Slate off as he climbed out of the Jeep. “We can use our stones to travel; we'll just have to go to Tír na nÓg first.”
Shining One traveling stones were made to travel through the Veil between Realms. If you didn't leave a realm, they didn't work. So, the guys would head home then turn around and come right back. Despite the extra trip, they'd probably beat us to our destination.
“Cancel the Jeeps,” Slate said and clicked the radio off.
“Shall I stay awhile to ensure that the blood worked?” Darc offered.
“Perhaps for a few hours,” Slate agreed. “Just long enough to gauge the effectiveness of your efforts.”
“Very well. Your office?”
Slate nodded.
“We'll join you,” Torin said with a look at my other men.
“I'll see you there,” I said to them.
I would have insisted on Darc riding in the Jeep but traveling via Shining One stone would be easier on him than the ride and subsequent climb upstairs to Slate's office. So, I let him go with the others and took the passenger seat up front again. Binx and Aaro had climbed in back without being asked. As long as Binx was driving, it didn't really matter to me.
Slate slid into the driver's seat then looked over at me. Something shifted in his silver eyes. “I don't want to jinx it.”
“But you think it worked?” I grinned at him.
“I hope it did,” he said softly then started the engine. “The last thing I want is Darcraxis bleeding for me again.”
“Slate,” I whispered chidingly.
“Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “It seems that I'm overly sensitive today.”
“It's called being a pussy,” Binx shot at his brother with a smirk.
I was about to say something snarky back when Slate's fist shot past me, in the space between our seats, and rammed into Binx's face. It happened so fast that I barely processed it and the hit was so hard that Binx passed out immediately. Aaro gaped at his comatose brother then at the brother who had thrown the punch. I pulled away from Slate to do some gaping myself.
“What?” Slate shrugged and grinned. “I told you; I'm feeling sensitive.”
Chapter Fifteen
Aaro and I were quiet on the way back to the office. Slate was silent as well, but he looked at peace while his brother and I were tense. Slate has always been a man of action and can also be unpredictable but he'd never been what I'd call a violent man. Yes, he could use violence to further his interests—all you have to do is look at the arena to know that—and he wasn't afraid of getting his hands dirty, but Binx was more prone to aggression than Slate.
Then again, this wasn't the first time Slate had knocked Binx out for saying something stupid and it likely wouldn't be the last. Perhaps it was merely startling because of its timing; so fresh on the heels of the Troll murder and Darc's bleeding.
Murder. Why had that word popped into my mind? It wasn't murder, it was an accident. I glanced at Slate. Wasn't it? Yes, it was. Of course, it was. Slate had been remorseful mere minutes after the killing. It was an accident. Although, I did have to sing him down. My stare went to Binx, who was starting to moan and roll his head on the column of his thick neck. Sure, he was a brute and he said some rude things—usually at the worst possible times—but did he really deserve that punch? He was only teasing; normal brother stuff. Hell, normal Gargoyle stuff.
We pulled up to the barracks and parked. Outside the gates, the Zone was back to its normal self—Beneathers shopping
and eating and socializing—already recovered from the trauma of its cleansing. I hoped it would stay that way but I suspected that the wound would itch a bit while it healed over.
I slid out of the Jeep and Slate came around the front to take my hand.
“Binx,” Slate called to his brother.
“Huh? What?” Binx blinked and sat up.
“Come on, Brother,” Aaro said in a subdued tone. “We're home.”
“Oh. Okay.” Binx stumbled out of the Jeep.
“Keep an eye on things for me,” Slate said to Aaro. “Anything happens; we'll be upstairs.”
Aaro nodded and slid a worried look my way. I just shrugged. Slate felt off, that was a definite, but the whole day had been like that. Maybe he just needed to decompress. I went upstairs with him to find the rest of my men sprawled in the center of the office, on the dark chairs scattered before the fireplace. The fire had been lit and Darc sat furthest from the flames, in as much shadow as he could find. I made a beeline for him.
“How are you feeling?” I brushed the silky waves of hair back from his face.
“I told you; I'm fine,” Darcraxis said gently and pulled me onto his lap. “More than fine now.” He nuzzled my neck. “I'd be happy to prove it to you.”
I chuckled in relief and kissed his cheek.
“Now, we just need to see if it worked,” Slate declared as he chose an armchair nearby. “Judging by the frequency of episodes, I believe we should know soon.”
“Why don't you ask your seer?” Gage suggested.
“It took a lot out of him,” Slate shook his head. “He was recovering when we left. I'd rather not disturb him unless necessary. Are any of you hungry? I can have food delivered.”
“I could eat.” Gage grinned.
“Your stomach is an endless pit,” I teased.
Gage shrugged. “All part of being a Griffin.”
“Or we could satisfy other hungers,” Slate's tone lowered, as did his eyelids, going half-mast over his gleaming gaze.
“Excuse me?” I laughed. “Are you suggesting we have sex to pass the time?”
Slate mimicked Gage's shrug.
“No,” I said with laughter still inhabiting my voice.
“You could strip for us,” Slate suggested.
“What?” I whispered.
“You know how much I love watching you.”
The other men looked back and forth between us; both confused and wary.
“I think we're all a bit tired,” Declan said diplomatically. “It's especially been a long day for you two.”
Declan is one of the most perverted men I know. Most Shining Ones tend toward lasciviousness so Declan is more the rule than the exception. Regardless, for him to attempt to dampen a lusty mood instead of encouraging it showed just how uncomfortable Slate was making everyone.
“Not Elaria.” Slate protested as he stood then went to pour himself a drink. “She sang a few songs, that's all. She could sing one more. Can't you, sweetheart?”
Slate returned to his chair and sat in it the same way he had when he had first demanded that I strip for him; back when I was his prisoner. It gave me the shivers and also an epiphany. A zone lord is connected to his zone. If the residents had been affected by Gargo's blood, wouldn't it serve to reason that Slate would be too? Sweet stones, it had been staring me in the face this whole time.
“Slate, you're not acting like yourself,” I said softly.
“What are you talking about?” Slate scoffed. “It's unlike me to want my girlfriend to behave like a girlfriend? To desire you? How is that not normal?”
I looked at Darc and something passed between us. Blood. What was good for the zone would be good for its lord. We needed to cleanse Slate. I stood up and Darc followed suit.
Slate frowned at us. The other men watched warily.
“I think you've been infected, honey,” I said gently.
“Don't be ridiculous. I'm fine.” Slate grimaced. “Look, I'm sorry if I offended you. I was just trying to find something for us to do together.”
“No, you weren't,” Darc murmured. “You are behaving strangely.”
“You punched Binx for making a joke,” I reminded him.
“He deserved it,” Slate huffed. “He's Binx; even his name is dumb.”
“Binx did good today. He helped us. He didn't deserve that.”
Slate frowned. Blinked. Cracked his neck and set down his drink. “I'm fine.”
“Just let Darc put some of his blood on you,” I cajoled.
“I think it would be best if he drank it,” Darc countered.
“I'm not drinking blood like a damn Blooder,” Slate growled.
“Watch it!” Banning snapped.
“Oh, fuck you, parasite prince,” Slate said scathingly.
We all went still.
The men would sometimes tease each other but once things started to get out of control, they had agreed to keep it light; to never maliciously deride each other. Slate's tone alone had broken that pact. Not to mention, this simply wasn't like him. Slate doesn't say things like that. He'd never once looked down on Banning for being a Blooder, a race most Beneathers scorned.
“Grab him,” Darc said to the other men.
Slate snarled as they came for him, shifting into Gargoyle form and shredding his new clothes as Gage, Declan, Banning, and Torin closed in.
“This is unnecessary,” Declan said.
“Thank you,” Slate huffed. “At least one of you hasn't lost his damn mind.”
“We don't need to restrain him,” Declan went on and waved a hand at Slate.
Slate dropped to the floor, suddenly asleep.
Did I mention that Shining Ones are the strongest magic users in the Beneath? Well, with the exception of true Gods.
“I could have used that trick earlier,” I noted dryly. It rather galled that I, who had created the Shining Ones, couldn't do all the things they did.
“I can manage to put one Gargoyle to sleep,” Declan said, “but a crag of Trolls may have been beyond me.”
“Aw, you don't have to be modest, baby,” I drawled.
“May I remind you two that we have a problem?” Torin asked dryly.
“Right.” I looked down at Slate, still in his Gargoyle form. “Let's prop him up. I don't want him to choke on the blood.”
“Are we seriously going to force Darc's blood down Slate's throat merely because he got a little cocky?” Gage asked.
“I didn't mention this earlier but at the end of the fight with the Trolls, after I put them to sleep, Slate killed one of them,” I said grimly. “The guy was unconscious and Slate ripped out his throat.”
“Fuck,” Gage whispered.
“Help me prop open his mouth,” Declan said to Gage.
The Griffin nodded and wedged his fingers into one side of Slate's mouth while Declan took the other. Slate's impressive canines were put on display.
“What? You couldn't just magic his mouth open?” I teased Declan.
“Never waste magic, Ellie,” Declan chided but winked at me.
Darc drew his blade again and stepped forward. This time, he cut his palm then made a fist over Slate's open mouth and squeezed some blood into it.
Slate immediately flinched then began to tremble. Declan and Gage jerked back as Slate's jaws clicked shut. His body fell to the floor in a palsy; shaking as his zone had. I gaped at him. I hadn't been a hundred percent sure, but here was my proof. Slate had been infected and it had been far worse than the Felinae or the Trolls; it had stayed with him. He'd broken through a few times, but it kept creeping back up to influence him. My breath caught as I watched one of the men I loved be cleansed by the blood of another.
At last, Slate went still and his body shifted back to human.
“I think that's a good sign,” I said cautiously. “Both for him and the Zone.”
Darc nodded. “I believe both are now cleansed of Gargo's blood.”
“But perhaps you should return to that seer
in the morning,” Torin suggested. “Just for confirmation.”
“Yeah, I think you're right,” I agreed. “Can you help me get him into bed? Then you guys can go home; we should be fine now and I think it would be better if you weren't here when he woke up.”
Darcraxis grimaced. “I concur.” He picked up the naked Zone Lord and slung him over a shoulder. “Direct me, if you please, my fire.”
