by Kim Petersen
Zane cast an appreciative eye over their scaly hides and blue-stung eyes. They stood side by side, their hulky figures silhouetted against the headlight beams of the car behind them. These men were the toughest and most callous of all his employees, and now they were his most beautiful. His heart filled with pride as he looked on at his creations.
‘Smile!’ Zane said grandly, spreading his arms wide.
He started a slow pace in front of them. ‘This is a momentous night! You are among the first recruits to be granted entry into my hybrid army, the first among us to exist in the world as we know it. How honored you must feel, for tonight, we make history. Tonight, we take the steps that will bring the world to its knees. To control every corner and banish those that stand in our way. And when the world darkens under my watch, all will be ours to take! Riches you want? You shall have it! Women to fuck and feast on? So, your desire will unfold! This, I promise you! My word will be your future. Now, let us go to the witches and find the potion that will set us free of our human burdens!’
The men were silent. A few of them shrugged as they turned to look at one another, their eyes glowing like fireflies while their lips moved uncomfortably over foreign fangs. The tallest of the men stood apart from the others, leaning against the car bonnet. He unfolded his sturdy mass, his jaw tightening with a menacing roll of his shoulders. His dark head turned toward the other men and he gave a deliberate nod while his eyes slivered to studs.
‘More riches I could use,’ he snarled. His lips thinned to reveal pointed teeth and a twisted smile. ‘More women I want to fuck … And I sure as hell want to feast on more pussy! I say, we go show these witches what real men are made of! I say, we get that damned potion and watch the world turn black under Zane-the-Serpent-Hybrid-King’s reign!’
The group of men roared to life with a growling cheer as they accepted their first hybrid army mission in their morphed bodies.
Zane-the-Serpent-Hybrid-King? Zane thought. He had to admit that the name had a ring to it. He surveyed the crew of hybrids while a euphoric high buzzed through his head. He smiled faintly.
‘Very good. Let’s do it!’
Zane and Keira turned away from the men and walked through the night to their car. He slinked an arm around her and pulled her close as the gears in his head turned in elation. He could hardly wipe the smile from his face.
‘Some speech back there,’ Keira said, snuggling close to his chest.
Zane’s chest puffed.
‘It doesn’t get better than this – Zane-the-Serpent-Hybrid-King! – I always liked that Chris, what a guy!’
‘Well, I guess you will have to reward him when you’re king.’
Zane opened the car door for her and helped her climb inside. ‘Oh yes, those that prove their worth will be rewarded when I am king.’ He lowered his voice to a murmur and he dropped to his knees. ‘Especially my queen. You will be, won’t you?’
Keira clasped a hand over her mouth and stared at him.
Zane stared at her, his eyes shimmering under the night sky. He took her hands gently in his, stroking her palms with long claws.
‘Keira, will you be my serpent-hybrid queen?’
She grinned and pushed herself into his arms.
‘I’ll be anything you want me to be,’ she whispered.
Zane pulled her close, relishing the feel of her against his chest.
Not long now, and his struggles living beneath his father’s shadow will be in the past.
Not long now.
‘I love you,’ he mumbled against her hair.
‘I love you too.’
Regan hesitated in front of Arella’s hotel door. He lowered his gaze to the chrome door handle, then leaned to get a closer look. His warped reflection stared back at him, and he was silently thankful his nose wasn’t as really disjointed as it appeared in the chrome reflection. His brows raised at his absurdity as he straightened up, running a hand through his loose blond hair. He knew he was deliberately delaying knocking on her door.
He unhinged the trapped breath from his lungs and chastised himself for being so silly. He knew he looked good. After seeing Arella to her room, he had promptly organized some fresh clothes and toiletries for himself and Arella, and now he wore a new pair of black jeans that hugged his well-rounded behind with a cotton gray long-sleeved collared shirt. He smelled pretty good too, what with the Armani cologne and the basket of soapy products that accompanied the outfit.
Regan knocked against the polished hardwood door while attempting to tame the slight flutter in his stomach. He hadn’t heard a peep from her since they had arrived. He wondered if the clothes he had sent up to her were the correct size. Or, if indeed, she liked them. Odd … yes, that is the word, he thought, exhaling again. Odd were the feelings fleeting through his being since her presence in his life. He squared his shoulders as sounds of her turning the handle echoed through the spacious hallway.
Pull it together, Regan.
The door swung on its hinges and Arella greeted him with a relaxed smile.
‘Hey.’
Her eyes swept over him and he noticed the charcoal she had penciled around her lids and the length of her dark lashes.
‘Hey, you ready to go to dinner?’ Regan asked.
He liked it.
She turned her back to him without saying another word and sashayed into the room. Regan didn’t move an inch. He stood floored at the threshold, his eyes following her every move. Her wild dark hair was worn swept over one shoulder, and she wore a white backless mini dress with a wide sash tied below the small of her back. Lacy fabric dipped and clung low against her olive skin that gleamed smooth against the white fabric as she moved away from him.
His eyes fell to her legs as she strode confidently in chunky black boots. He liked the way the backs of her calves appeared taut and sleek as she leaned over to reach for her bag. When she turned and smiled at him again, he was certain he really could swear off blondes forever this time.
Arella stood beside a chair in the sitting area, holding the straps of her bag as she looked at him still standing at the door. Her eyes fell to her boots.
‘The dress fits, thank you,’ she said.
He couldn’t look away even if he wanted. ‘I didn’t think of shoes, I’m sorry …’
He didn’t want to look away.
She grinned. ‘Are you kidding me? I wear nothing else on these feet!’
Regan’s smile drifted from his lips as he captured her eyes.
‘Are you hungry?’ His voice was throaty and strange, as if borrowed from someplace deep inside. He felt like he was caught in a hypnotic game, and he was unsure if he was stalker or prey.
She didn’t look away. Her stare intensified while the color of her irises flared bright and lucid into his own.
‘I had some cheese and fruit,’ she murmured.
His eyes swirled against the opaque light basking from hers. Regan saw it clearly; light meeting dark, striking against one another in an invisible collision. His heart thundered in his chest while he was filled with a wonderfully bizarre sense of bliss. A serene call beckoned him, and he could not deny the intensity of the euphoric signal.
Anam Cara.
Arella took a step toward him, wringing the bag straps between her hands. Her lips parted, and she whispered the words as if his thoughts were hers for the taking.
‘Anam Cara.’
He remained in the doorway feeling obliterated and unmade. He was nobody. A blank canvas wandering through the dark with a sliver of light to guide him. Emotion rose raw and unfurled through his being; he was lost to himself.
The moment came like any other – a fragmented moment that his vanished self surrendered to. His armor fell, shattering to his feet in a murky pile. He would wait no longer. His pulse raced as he moved closer to her, his body felt alert and alive and knew only one clarity. Wanting. Her wanting. It was her desire that fueled his burning need and he took her in his arms roughly and crushed his lips onto he
rs. She tasted sweet and she pushed her tongue against his like she was whispering syrupy secrets. He pressed himself onto her, stroking the sides of her cheeks with his thumbs. He wanted to swallow her whole so she would fill the barren void inside of him.
She tangled her fingers in his hair and he dropped his hands to her shoulders and clawed at the sleeves on her dress. He hooked his fingers beneath the fabric and pulled. The lace tore apart and her breasts were bare to him. He groaned and grabbed a handful of velvety skin; her nipples were hard and swollen like cryptic beads and he ached to take them between his lips. He felt like a scavenger chasing the light and he would languish if he couldn’t feel her. He lowered his head and sucked on her nipples while she pushed herself into his mouth and panted.
Yearning.
Wanting.
Her wanting brimmed and whirled between his own and his mind fogged dizzily. He craved to have her now. He pushed her back onto a chair and fumbled with the zipper on his jeans while she watched him, her eyes a euphoric lull. He pushed apart her legs. She was flowery and wet, and he thrust himself into her while she moaned, and her nails dug into his flesh. With every push he lost himself again and again. The light was near the peak and he rode her until the light consumed his shadow and he filled her with pearly seeds.
He blew hot breath against her hair. His body throbbed ecstatically into hers and she groaned while she slipped against his skin and clung her body to his. Her hips molded onto him and she wrapped her legs around him as they fastened together with racing hearts and sweaty hips.
Anam Cara.
Afterwards, Regan walked to the bathroom and he was sure his feet didn’t touch the ground. He was neither high nor low, he was someplace in between, and it felt better than the place he had begun. And he knew his thirst for her was insatiable. He knew he could never get enough. He peered at himself in the mirror for the longest time. He felt peculiar. The squatter within him shifted and the floating essence that had started to haunt him since he had brought home her mother’s painting began to feel native to him. And he needed her again.
His eyes dropped to the thick silver band on his finger, the one Vincent had presented to him years before when he had come of age. He twisted the ring and pulled it from his flesh and tossed it into the waste basket. He turned away and walked from the bathroom, and he knew he’d never walk the earth the same again.
The coven village was cradled like a baby in the arms of the surrounding hills as Zane, Keira and their crew descended deeper into the valley. The thick canopy of trees above became unyielding, hanging rigid over the road with the growing frost crawling over their thick leaves.
The village was relatively small. A few cottages were scattered about, poised meters apart from one another, their slanted rooftops exhaling curls of smoke and all but the largest cottage blackened against the night. A timber framework dominated the center of the village. Long planks of wood formed a roped bridge that sprawled into a circular platform. Between the roped notches, long lanterns loomed tall and deadened at even intervals. A massive barn stood to the rear of the village, and beyond the red timber structure was a long stretch of crops and pens filled with various livestock. Only the occasional yelp of a sheep and a long drawn out cow-call broke the heavy silence blanketing the valley.
Zane pumped his hand against the car steering wheel and let out a howl. Adrenaline coursed through his bloodstream and his mind soared with elation as they drew closer to the coven village and his prize of the magical potion.
Zane pulled the car to a stop where the mountain road began to meet the valley. He grinned at Keira, his teeth gleaming under the dreary light.
‘We walk from here.’ He hauled himself out of the car to meet his crew and issue instructions.
His men would raid each cottage in quick succession, gather up their occupants and herd them all to the barn at the back of the village. Since all the cottage lights were darkened except the largest, they should encounter little resistance. And whatever resistance there was would be met with death. They were instructed to kill without hesitation. While his men were busy rounding up warlocks and witches, Zane and Keira would take the large cottage where he was sure he’d find Selina who, after all, was the mother of the infamous Dark Star.
They set off, moving soundlessly through the undergrowth that edged the narrow road and tracked into the center of the village. A thick scent of burning wood mingled with the chilling air and stung Zane’s eyes as they closed in on the first cottage. For a bare moment the group of hybrids paused and looked to each other. Zane puffed up his chest with menace. He was more than ready. He gave his men a brief nod as he watched his beloved hybrids disperse into the black cottages. He motioned to Keira and they dashed toward the biggest cottage.
Smoke billowed from the chimney and a small glow danced from the cottage windows. Keira shadowed Zane up the few steps that led to the porch to peer through the modest glass. Curtains hung undrawn around the edges of the misted window and looked onto a barely furnished living area. Petite stained-glass lamps glimmered on table stands with long thin legs, and one twin seater sofa faced a corner where an open fire blazed. A woman sat motionless on the sofa. She was facing away from them and appeared mesmerized by the crackling fire, her golden hair fanning over the edge of the sofa and luminous in the flaming light.
Zane strained to obtain a better view of the rest of the cottage. The rooms that led from the living area were sheathed in darkness. The woman appeared to be alone.
A shrilling cry rang through the night and echoed from somewhere behind them. Zane’s eyes swung back to the woman. She moved her head slightly, cocking an ear in alert. She had heard the cry. She moved forward and lunged for something in front of her that eluded Zane’s vision.
His next move seemed mechanical, as if his thoughts didn’t belong to him. He was governed by an instinctual, animalistic drive that overrode every other reason within him. He slinked to the door and gave an almighty kick. A deep growl tore through his throat as the door swung on squeaky hinges. He stepped over the threshold, the scales of his neck bulging and glinting while his narrow-slit eyes met with hers.
The woman reeled around to face him. She froze. Her long hair clung across her face and wisped over her eyes. Zane saw a snippet of her white fleshed leg tremble beneath the black satin robe twisting around her body. He inhaled the scent of her fear which streamed through his mind like a cool tickle. Her arms were hidden behind satin flounces in her robe, and she stood utterly still. Above the wails that carried aloft through the quiet valley was the growing smell of pervasive fear. Her foreboding was obvious, yet her turquoise eyes reflected defiance; and as Zane steadily regarded her, he caught something else wafting from her – revulsion.
The woman drew a sharp breath and shifted her gaze from Zane to Keira.
‘Who are you?’ Her voice was low and hoarse.
Zane grinned. He glanced at Keira next to him and took a step toward the woman.
‘The question is, my dear, who are you? Are you Selina Knowles?’
The woman sneered while a pale thin arm raised above her. Zane caught the waver in her eyes; it was enough to reveal her identity. He was certain she was Selina. His grin froze as he spotted a crooked looking wand pinched between her fingers.
The woman tossed her head, her long hair flailing like a golden fan behind her. ‘Come closer and I’ll use it on you, I swear it,’ she hissed.
Zane had never trusted witches and warlocks, and somehow he sensed the powerful magic behind that obscure looking stick she held.
‘You misunderstand, Selina. I was sent here by Apepsis; he is your serpent god, no?’
Selina’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.
‘Why would Apepsis send you here to raid my coven?’
Zane’s head fell to the side as he slid his eyes over her.
‘We’re not here to raid by any means. We’re here for the potion, the magic potion that will forever keep us serpent-hybrids. Apepsis has spoken. Giv
e me the potion, and my hybrids and I will be on our merry way.’
Selina brought the wand down in a sharp sudden move. Her mouth moved fast, her voice a husky chant. The fire flared wild behind her while her face contorted and a strike of black lightning burst from the wand and struck Keira.
Keira reeled back and screamed out in agony, grasping at Zane as she collapsed to the floor. Her breathing labored as she struggled and squirmed at his feet.
Zane blinked once at Keira, then lunged forward. He caught Selina’s arm before she could strike again. His claws dug into her arm. Blood pooled under his nails and a savage hunger gripped him. His black eyes glazed and flickered with strikes of blue. He drew back his scaly head, ready to rip into her flesh.
Selina’s wail was hysterical. She yanked to free her arm in vain. She pressed her hand against his forehead, her eyes large and watery as she retreated from the fangs inches from her flesh.
‘Stop! Stop! I’ll give it to you! The potion is yours … please!’
Zane’s head stalled between ravenous thirst and the words spilling from her mouth. Blood dripped over her wrists, and her veins bulged blue and spidery under the sheath of her skin. He hungered to taste her. He yearned to feast on her internals and drink from the fountain of her throat. With all his strength he lifted his eyes to meet hers. He flinched as the action tripped his innate demand to feed and stabbed through his empty gut. Her words echoed all around.
The potion.
The potion.
Zane shook his head, rolled his shoulders then ripped the wand from her hand and tossed it into the fire. The flames spat and crackled loudly as the wand became charcoal. He released her arm, thrusting her away from him.
