by N M Thorn
Cole moved forward, walking slowly between the shelves. He pretended to look around, but with his mind working on overdrive, he barely paid any attention to the magical artifacts before him.
“This is the business I wanted to talk to you about,” continued Amaris. “I collect these magical objects and then auction them off to the highest bidder. However, my lifestyle and my other enterprises keep me tied up to this facility, and I need someone on the outside, in the realm of humans, to run this business.”
Cole halted and turned around, understanding dawning on him. “Ricardo’s collection,” he whispered, a deep shudder running through him. “You created it. You’re the supplier.”
“Clever little vampire,” Amaris muttered, patting his cheek affectionately. “Yes, I am. Originally, I thought Ricardo could take the role I’m offering to you, but soon, I realized he was too weak and too human to deal with my type of buyers.” He ran his finger over the edge of the shelf as he promenaded along the aisle. “Nevertheless, with time, Ricardo proved to be a great provider of captive fighters for my House, so I decided to keep him around.” He shrugged. “Besides, you probably noticed that living in this bunker day in and day out can be quite boring, and his beautiful sister is a great source of entertainment to me.”
He giggled, shaking his head, and halted, turning around. Cole came to a sharp stop and surveyed the area. While nothing particular attracted his attention, the magical energy in this place of the warehouse throbbed and pulsated, wrapping around him, caressing his skin as if inviting him to find it, touch it, own it. He groaned and closed his eyes as they ignited with a bright scarlet light.
A sharp breath that sounded more like a gasp brushed Cole’s hearing, and he felt a light touch to his chest. He opened his eyes and looked at Amaris’ hand moving down his stomach. But as his fingers reached the waistband of Cole’s pants, Cole grabbed the shirt on Amaris’ chest, and in one swift motion, swung him around, pressing his back against the shelf.
Then he lowered his face and froze, his lips less than an inch away from Amaris’. “Is that what you truly want from me, Erick?” he hissed, his hand seizing the hair on the back of Amaris’ head, forcing him to look up. “You want me in your bed?”
Amaris raised his eyes, and his lips parted, his chest shuddering with short breaths.
“Yes,” he breathed. “That and a lot more.” The purple glow vanished, and for a heartbeat, Cole could see the true color of his eyes through the openings in his mask. They were light and foggy, drunk even. “Heaven and Earth, Cole… You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to meet you in person. Ever since I captured your maker—” He closed his eyes and swallowed with effort, turning away. “I’ve been watching you for years, and I wish I could have it all with you, but not in this—” He cut himself off, his gaze traveling down his own body. Then he sighed and grabbed something from the shelf behind him. “For now, I just want you to hold this for me.”
Before Cole could back away, Amaris thrust something into his hands. A sharp ping of magical energy rushed through him, and he recognized its energy signature. It was the same magic that he’d sensed earlier in this area, the one that called to him, fogging his mind.
With fear clawing through him, he glanced down and saw a short sword, sheathed in a beautifully crafted leather scabbard. It resembled an ancient Roman gladius, but what shocked him the most was that it looked almost the same as his own sword except for the stone embedded in the pommel. His sword had a red stone that looked like a large ruby, but this stone was a dark blue like sapphire, and it shone with a dim ultramarine light. Without giving it a second thought, he unsheathed the blade and raised it a little. A wave of warmth traveled through his arm, and he moaned, his lips parting like in ecstasy.
“I’ll be damned,” exhaled Amaris, taking a step to the side to put some distance between himself and the glowing blade in Cole’s hands. “The sword responded to you. It’s you… and your righteous brother… Two brothers—the Light, marked by the Darkness, and the Darkness, touched by the Light.” He pressed his hand to his mouth, his eyes igniting brighter than ever. “Dammit! I was so hoping it wasn’t the case…”
“What are you talking about?” asked Cole, feeling chills going through him. He sheathed the sword and offered it to Amaris, but he shook his head, raising his arm.
“Hold on to it, but don’t get any bright ideas—you can’t kill me with a sword. It’s time we had a serious conversation, my friend,” said Amaris, grabbing Cole’s wrist. He turned around and headed out of the warehouse, pulling Cole with him.
Amaris didn’t return to his office but ushered Cole into the same room where he spent the night with Sylvana. Not sure what to expect, Cole froze by the entrance, his fingers squeezing the scabbard of the sword. Amaris sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned forward, resting his elbows atop his knees. He covered his face with his hands and there was something so despondent in his pose that Cole’s stomach twisted with dread.
Without taking his eyes off Amaris, Cole made his way to the armchair and lowered himself onto it, hoping that the weak connection with his brother in this place was still intact. He placed the sword across his lap, his fingers tracing the design on the scabbard absentmindedly.
“Mr. Amaris,” he called after a while. “I would appreciate an explanation.”
Amaris raised his head, his hand reaching up to readjust his mask, but then a bitter laugh escaped his lips, and he dropped his hands on his lap.
“Well, my dear, I really don’t know what to tell you,” he started, shaking his head, “but your position in my House has changed.”
“I don’t understand—,” Cole started, but Amaris snapped his fingers, and invisible ropes of his magic wrapped around Cole’s arms and legs, tying him to the chair. Cole gasped and pushed against the restraints, but to no avail.
“Don’t struggle, Cole. It’s pointless. You can’t fight my magic.” Amaris got up and halted in front of him, his lips pressed into a bitter straight line. “I know it’s hard for you to believe, but I’m truly, sincerely sorry it has to be this way.”
“If that’s the way you truly feel, wouldn’t it be easier for you to just let me go then?” Cole raised his face, meeting Amaris’ eyes without blinking. “My brother will deliver on his promise. Damian is always true to his word.”
“I do need your brother to come through. After all, I asked him to deliver what’s rightfully mine, anyway.” Amaris sighed, biting his lip. “But that is not the problem. I can’t release you because I’ve been searching for that one very special vampire for quite some time. Unfortunately, it happened to be you.” He fell silent, rubbing the stubble on his chin. “Well, not me personally, per se. I have...” He turned away, staring at the door, and when he continued, his voice sounded hoarse. “You’re old enough to know that in the World of Magic, there’s always someone who has power over you. I also have a master, my friend, and by capturing you, I’m just doing his bidding.” He exhaled a ragged breath, his hands forming tight fists. “It pains me more than you know, but I have no choice.”
“There is always a choice,” replied Cole.
“You’re right,” Amaris agreed. “In this case, it’s either your freedom or mine, and I hope you can understand why I choose my freedom over yours.”
“Oh, I understand that. What else could have I expected from a low-life slaver such as yourself?” Cole tilted his head, forcing down a sick feeling. “It’s everything else that I need you to explain.”
Amaris nodded, a pained expression settling in his glowing eyes. Taking a step closer, he seized Cole’s chin, lifting his face gently. “There is an ancient prophecy. At least, I think it’s a prophecy. Something about two brothers who are destined to—” He let go of Cole’s chin and twirled his wrist dismissively. “Sorry, but I didn’t bother memorizing the text. All I know, is that the brothers must be immortal to fit the description. One is the Light, marked by the Darkness. The second one is the Darkness, touched b
y the Light. That is all I know.”
“Go on,” said Cole through gritted teeth.
“My master decided that it would be easier to find the second brother—the one who’s the Darkness,” Amaris continued with a sigh. “After years of research and exploration, he came to the conclusion that the second brother must be an ancient vampire, and this was when the real search began. We searched all over the human realm, testing every ancient male vampire we could find. I abducted Sylvana, hoping to entrap her maker, Santiago del Castillo, but he was too smart to fall for something like this, I guess. Instead, he kept sending his people. I kept catching and enslaving them, using that special Sisterhood necromancy rune, but he kept sending more until your brother captured the last one. Anyway, I had to send my people after him. I couldn’t let him go back to Vegas and warn Santiago…”
Amaris paused, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. He stood like this for a few seconds, but since Cole said nothing, he continued, “This is why I needed powerful fighters trained to deal with vampires as easily as the Sisterhood slayers, and the main reason I wanted their infamous poison. I had to have a way to fight and subdue all these old vamps, if push came to shove. Ancient vampires are smart and insidious. You have no idea what kind of hoops I had to jump through to capture and test them.”
“My heart is breaking for you,” muttered Cole, narrowing his eyes.
“For three years, I held your maker captive because I was positive it was him, but I couldn’t test him.” Amaris chuckled, shaking his head. “Little did I know…”
“Ruslan doesn’t have a brother,” snapped Cole, struggling to contain the rising wave of anger.
“I had no way of knowing that,” replied Amaris, “and he seemed to be righteous enough to fit the ‘touched by the Light’ part.”
“Why couldn’t you test him?” asked Cole. “What is the test, anyway?”
“The sword you’re holding is the test,” replied Amaris, bending forward to touch the stone. “My master came into possession of this blade centuries ago, before we started the search. According to some old lore, this sword has a twin brother. Both used to belong to some powerful ancient deity whose name has been forgotten and who is no longer worshipped by humans. We’ve been looking for the second sword for ages with nothing to show.
“I don’t know all their magical properties, but there is something unusual in the way these swords are forged—they react to anything unnatural in the supernatural world. You’re a vampire who can wield magic—it doesn’t get more unnatural than that, does it? So, the sword reacted to your magical energy.” He fell silent, his purple eyes exploring Cole with fascination. “Ruslan wasn’t willing to comply with my request, and you know how magic works. It’s all about free will.”
Cole peered down at the weapon, a disarray of thoughts crowding his mind. “Erick,” he said at length, raising his eyes. “Before you deliver me to your master, can you do me a favor and satisfy my curiosity?”
Amaris’ mouth opened a little, and he took a step closer, moving like in a trance. “Cole, I’m sorry, but if you want to know who my master is, I can’t tell you that. Besides, I have no idea what his true identity is. He always deals from the shadows.”
“Just like you—always in that goddamn mask,” Cole said bitterly, jerking his chin at Amaris. “No, that wasn’t what I was going to ask you.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Ricardo told us he made some kind of mistake that allowed you to learn about his plan,” said Cole, relaxing his tense shoulders. “He had no idea what that was, and it’s been bugging me ever since. Can you tell me what he did wrong? How did you find out?”
A shadow of sadness flew across Amaris’ eyes. “I knew about your little plan quite a while before the day I entrapped Ricardo, demanding him to deliver you and your brother to me. Ricardo didn’t do anything wrong. He didn’t lie to you and your terrifying brute of a brother,” he said. “Actually, it was your brother who made the mistake.”
“I don’t understand… How so?”
“To be completely honest, he didn’t do anything wrong either,” replied Amaris. “He stayed true to what he is, doing exactly what he’s supposed to do. He couldn’t have known that I have connections in all the right places.”
Dammit, Dima… Who did you tell… Oh, fuck…
“Cole.” Amaris’ voice ripped through the veil of frenzied thoughts in Cole’s mind.
“Yes?”
“I have to do something to prepare you for the meeting with my master,” said Amaris, his voice trembling slightly. “I’m sorry, but it’ll hurt—”
Cole laughed mirthlessly. “Wait. Don’t tell me. It’ll hurt you a lot more than it’ll hurt me.”
He could see only the bottom part of Amaris’ face, but whatever skin was exposed turned ashen gray. Amaris didn’t say anything but took one knee in front of Cole and started to unbutton the shirt on his chest. Cole averted his gaze, praying to all the gods he knew that Yakov’s magic would hold against Amaris and his demonic powers.
Amaris pulled the shirt open, exposing Cole’s chest, and placed his hand over his heart. He didn’t channel his magic. Instead, he leaned closer and caressed his icy skin gently, his finger trembling.
“I’m truly sorry, meu amigo,” he whispered into Cole’s chest. “I had no idea it was going to be so hard…”
“Just spare me the drama, Amaris,” growled Cole, jerking within the restraints of demonic magic. “As if I don’t know what you’re going to do. Go ahead, use your necromancy. You have my fucking blessing.” A demon with feelings… Someone, please stake me before I throw up…
Amaris pulled back and placed his palm flat against his chest. The magical energy around him spiked, and the reek of pure demonic essence assailed Cole’s senses. Amaris’ hand grew hotter, and the pain—pure liquid torment—surged through Cole’s body. He clenched his teeth, struggling not to scream, but as the potency of Amaris’ spell intensified, he could hold the screams no more.
His body arched within the restraints of the dark magic like from an electric shock, and he threw his head back, a terrible howl of pain erupting from his lips. Suddenly, something inside him twitched, and a wave of different magic spread through him, repelling the darkness of necromancy. Amaris gasped and jerked away, falling on his back. He scrambled into a kneeling position, nursing his right hand as if it were burned.
Staring at Cole in awe, he started, “You are—”
“Stain-resistant, like your carpet,” Cole growled, his body still shaking with strain. “You can’t use necromancy on me, you evil bastard. I told you, it’ll hurt you a lot more than it’ll hurt me. I wasn’t being sarcastic, you know?” A sardonic grin stretched his lips, and he touched the tips of his fangs with his tongue. “So, if you want to deliver me to your master, lover, you’ll have to do it as is—in all my unnatural vampiric glory.”
Amaris got up to his feet, his arms hanging along his sides, his fingers locking and unlocking.
“You…” he whispered, panting. “You have no idea what you’re talking about! Don’t judge! You know nothing about me.”
“Are you kidding me?” Cole hissed, his voice getting softer. “You’re a low-life demon! What else do I need to know?”
“And you’re a vampire!” yelled Amaris, his voice rising to a high-pitched shrill. “An undead leech without a heartbeat, incapable of love or affection or any true feelings. All you know is thirst and lust!”
Cole growled, fighting against his restraints. Amaris dropped on the bed, as if he suddenly ran out of steam.
“Cole, I’m sorry. I’m a little upset,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper. “You wanted to see me without this mask?” He reached up and placed his hand over his face. “Except for one person, no one has seen my true form for centuries, and I’m tired of living like this. For the first time in so many years, I’ve met a man who…” He shook his head, and there was so much pain and bitterness in his move that Cole sti
ffened with his lips parted. “I hate myself and this illusion I’m forced to keep up day in and day out to hide who I truly am. I just want you to know that… I want you to see the real me before I have to…” His voice trembled and broke, and he turned away. “So, here I am…”
He pulled the mask off, and the air around him shimmered, a thick veil of dark, purple mist wrapping around him. When the mist dissipated, Cole lifted his face and gasped, his eyes widening.
“Oh… my… God…” he whispered, reaching through his blood bond to Damian.
Chapter 26
~ Damian Blake ~
“Are you…” Damian stared at the man, flabbergasted. “Are you a Destiny Enforcer?”
“Yes, Commander,” the man replied, rising. “My name is Petrukha, and I’m the Shadow Enforcer to Lord Ulric Aramir.”
“To Lord Aramir?” echoed Damian in disbelief, scratching the back of his head. “When did you have your last communication with your master?”
The man glanced around, and a shadow of doubt crossed his face. “Commander, I’m sorry, but it’s getting late, and we should get back into the palace. In the last few days, the Isle has been attacked by all sorts of demonic entities, and I can’t figure out what’s going on. The Sacred Isle is supposed to be the safest place in the Land of Dreams.” He furrowed his brow, raking his fingers through the mess of his gray hair, and then gestured at the gates. “Please, follow me. We can continue our conversation inside the safety of these walls.”
Damian followed Petrukha and his men through the gates and halted, observing his surroundings with interest. Steep-roofed houses built in the early Muscovite architectural style encircled a large city square. A single road, paved with light cobblestones, led toward the large palace, its white walls and five golden domes prominent even in the darkness of the evening.
