by Tee, Marian
He swiveled his chair to face me as I reached his side. He stopped typing and spread one arm wide. It was all the invitation I needed. I sat on his lap and hugged him as tightly as I could.
I love you.
Lucian’s tone suddenly became distracted, and he was speaking quickly. Then he was putting the phone down and his arms were going around me. I sighed as our lips met. His kisses always tasted sweeter than anything I imagined, and I couldn’t get enough of them, of him.
My fingers played with the curls in his hair, drifting slowly to his nape. His kiss deepened. It shocked me. It thrilled me. He usually played it cool, never letting our kisses last longer than half a minute, pulling away when things got too…heated.
And then, it was over.
I blinked, stunned and extremely unhappy to find us seated across from each other, his desk serving as a barrier between us.
“I want to kiss some more,” I complained.
He shook his head. “Later,” he said but softened his rejection with a tender smile.
It was a rare sight, and I wished I had a camera handy to capture it.
He chuckled.
“What’s so funny?”
“Err…nothing.” He asked hastily, “How did your training go?”
“Fantastic,” I bragged with a grin. “I’m sure Dyvian thinks I’m the best student he ever had.”
“You’re his only student.”
I waved his clarification away. Really, he was too concerned about semantics. “I’m a red dragon, do you know?”
He shook his head.
“Dyvian tells me our line’s supposed to be the best flyers of Evren.”
“That’s right.”
“Well, I’m not exactly the best yet but I’ll get there eventually.” I caught sight of my reflection in the windowpane behind him and sighed. “Now, I remember. God, Lucian, we’re ugly.”
“Speak for yourself.”
“It’s true, Lucian, and it’s best you accept the fact.” I clucked my tongue. “Ignoring facts isn’t good, you know.”
“You being the best person to give that advice, of course.”
“It’s nice that you know.” I agreed without an ounce of shame. I leaned back against the seat and closed my eyes in remembered bliss. “Being Evren was so…amazing. It was almost like how I’d imagine skinny-dipping would be like, but with scales—
Lucian choked.
“—and the power, Lucian. It was incredible, knowing I was about twenty feet tall and able to swallow a person whole.”
“Gross thought,” Lucian said with a perfectly straight face, “but I understand your sentiments.”
“Ha-ha. You know I didn’t mean it literally.”
“I’m pleased to hear it.” He walked around his table, hands inside his pockets. “I’ve something to tell you.”
I brightened. “You’re going to tell me you’re in lo—”
“Deli.”
“It’s not that disgusting an idea.”
“Let it be, Deli.” He pushed me toward the door. “Now, let’s go join Dyvian in the kitchen. We have something important to talk about.”
~~~
“There are only two reasons why Lucian would call for an emergency meeting,” Dyvian declared.
It was four in the morning. He was freshly bathed and gobbling his way through steak and fries. It had been a few hours since we had successfully concluded our training. Lucian wanted to have the talk immediately, but Dyvian had insisted on showering and cooking himself an early breakfast first.
“What’s the first reason?” I stole a fry from Dyvian’s plate and munched.
“All outcomes agree with him.”
Lucian rolled his eyes.
“And the second reason?” I tried helping him spread butter on his toast, just like how a loving girlfriend would, but he batted my fingers away.
“Only one outcome agrees with him, and he’s thought of a way to make us think it’s our idea to choose that outcome.” Dyvian shrugged. “Either way, he stays in control.” He moved his chair closer to mine so he could whisper in my ear. “Now do you understand just how bossy your boyfriend is?”
“Perfectly,” I tried to say coherently, having just taken a huge bite of my Philly cheese steak sandwich.
“Shut up, Dyvian.” Lucian’s voice was as mild as a gentle wind, like it always was, making his rude words sound like a quote from the Bible. He frowned at me. “And you, don’t talk with your mouth full.”
“Yes, sir.” Dyvian and I saluted at him in perfect synchrony.
Lucian sighed. “Must you two always be childish?”
I pretended to think. “Umm…yes.”
“Tell you what,” Dyvian suggested. “How about we reverse roles just for fun? We’ll act like we’re 348 years old—”
Lucian’s eyes flashed, and I was scared we might have taken his even temper for granted.
“—and you act like a teenager for once?”
I waited for Lucian to snap but all he did was pat his mouth with his table napkin. “Thanks, but no thanks. Now can we talk seriously? It’s about Davie.”
That effectively put a stop to our amusements.
“What have you found out?” I asked uneasily. I still wasn’t completely convinced it was safe to leave Davie to the mercy of Zekans.
Lucian’s lips formed a grim line. “It’s not good. One of my sources had tipped me off about plans for Davie being moved out of the hospital.”
“She’s not in a coma anymore?”
“She still is, I’m sorry. And that, in itself, makes the move suspicious. I went there to find out more, and what I’ve learned is something that doesn’t just affect you or us but the entire Evren race.”
My mind went blank. How could something about Davie or me affect other Evren?
Lucian continued, “Do you know someone named Colbert Winters?”
Shock made my fingers nerveless and my half-eaten sandwich fell on the plate soundlessly. “He’s my uncle,” I told him in a dull voice. He was my dad’s younger brother, and Davie and I had never liked him or his social-climbing wife. If my uncle was involved, it was sure to be bad news.
“He’s assumed guardianship of your sister and ostensibly had her moved to his home for private care so that she’d be near her loved ones.”
“And his real motive?” If Colbert loved anyone, it wouldn’t be me, my sister, or even his wife. Money was Colbert’s first and only love. I shuddered, wondering if his love of money had anything to do with my parents’ death.
But there was a part deep inside me that already knew the answer. When I glanced at Lucian, the regret in his eyes confirmed my worst fears.
“Colbert had contracted people to kill your entire family. What he doesn’t know is that the criminal organization he’s contacted is run by and employs Zekans.”
“And Davie?” I whispered.
“Bait. Colbert knows you’re alive. Officially, you’re considered dead. A human body, burnt beyond recognition, was thoughtfully supplied by the Zekans to serve as proof of your death. With Davie the only survivor and your parents having left no will, Colbert automatically becomes Davie’s guardian and now possesses full control of your family’s finances. Davie is his way of luring you to a trap.”
“And he’s right, dammit,” I muttered.
Lucian tipped my chin up. “I know I can’t and have no right to stop you from helping your sister, but I advise you not to do so right now. She’s still in a coma, and they have every reason to keep her alive. It’s best to attempt rescuing her when she’s at least out of medical danger.”
His words made sense but I had to ask, “You promise we’ll go after Davie when she’s conscious?”
“Yes.”
I nodded, telling myself to be satisfied.
“What do the other Evren have to do with this?” Dyvian’s fingers drummed on the table.
“The criminal organization was established to give Zekans access to human blood. Lots of i
t.”
The ramifications weren’t lost to us. I spoke my thoughts out loud. “And that’s why they’re more powerful than before, aren’t they? You told me once they used to be weaker and afraid of the modern world. But it’s different now, isn’t it?”
I was so furious, that if there had been a Zekan nearby, I’d have happily poked its eyes with my fork a hundred times. God, they were clever. Evil, gross, but hideously clever. As a criminal organization, they had certified means, albeit illegal, to obtain human blood. None of their “clients” would care about their victims as long as they were properly disposed of. The Zekans killed humans, drank their victims’ blood, and got paid for it with no one the wiser.
“I’m seriously itching to whip some Zekan ass.” I grabbed a plastic cup of yogurt, tore the lid off, and took out a spoonful, hoping its bland taste would reduce my desire to kill.
“With great power comes great responsibility,” I said under my breath, reminding myself that becoming an Evren warrior chick was not synonymous with becoming a righteous killing machine.
Dyvian choked, his face a picture of incredulity, exasperation, and amusement all rolled into one. “Are you quoting Spiderman to yourself?”
“Mind your own business,” I snapped, embarrassed at being heard, and busied myself with another spoonful of yogurt.
He made a small toast to Lucian. “We appreciate the heads up, but you haven’t told us the purpose of this meeting yet, have you?”
A slight smile touched Lucian’s lips. “No.”
There was still more bad news? “What is it?” I sighed. Why did I ever think being Evren would be glamorous and easy?
“We’re going up to DV to report our findings.”
I straightened in my seat. “You’ll take me with you?”
Dyvian stared at him in disbelief. “You’re taking Deli with us?”
I couldn’t believe it either. Did this mean…oh, my God, but maybe it did.
Lucian rolled his eyes. “It’s nothing to be excited about.”
Dyvian gave him a pitying look. “After everything, you still don’t know how Deli’s mind works, do you?”
I blew Lucian a kiss. “Don’t mind him. He’s just jealous you’re going out with a pretty girl like me.” Lucian began to look alarmed, but I chalked it up to his obsessive need to worry. He was probably nervous at how intuitive I was becoming these days.
“I told you he likes me a lot, Dyv. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be thinking of taking me there, would he? I mean, it’s the closest he could do to having me meet his parents.”
~~~
The drive to DV was spent in silence. Lucian was behind the wheel, frowning about God knows what. Dyvian sat in the back, content with listening to his iPod. I sat next to Lucian in front, despite his protests, but with Dyvian’s blessings and my insistence. We had to make the right first impressions, you know.
Lucian parked the truck in the slots reserved for VIP visitors of the Death Valley National Park. I grabbed his hand as we walked and held tight even as he tried to tug his away without being too obvious.
It was early morning yet, but already the temperature was rising. My body hadn’t yet completed its adjustments to being Evren. I could only wish the day would come soon and sweating would just be a bad memory.
I only had a moment to appreciate the beauty of Death Valley—vast sand dunes appeared endless, a golden carpet covering the earth. The sheer size of the canyons was breathtaking, their ragged edges carving a treacherous path to heaven. Marble and limestone would occasionally break the monotony in color, streaks of light amidst all shades of brown.
In seconds, we were invisible and soaring high. Lucian held me tightly against him. He told me flying together would save time, but I liked to think he just wanted me close.
The Holy Grail of Evren was inside an enormous cave. The maps had only designated a number for the trail leading to it, but I liked to think of it as DVC, for Death Valley Cave. I didn’t share this with the Chevalier brothers though. They’d just laugh at me anyway.
DVC was a refuge for Evren who grew weary of living amidst humans and hiding from Zekans. It was also where Hallir, the great prophet and Lucian’s former mentor, resided. His word was pretty much law for our kind.
DVC lay behind the ridges of the Devil’s Golf Course, a majestic black-and-white pan of immense salt crystals. One misstep could be your last. A guidebook to DV referred to it as the place only the devil could play golf.
Obviously, the author didn’t know Evren could be the devil’s golf buddies.
We materialized into view when we reached the entrance. Many gave us second glances, curiously at me and admiringly at Lucian and Dyvian.
It was a busy, busy place. People rushed in all directions, going in and out of countless passageways. Colorful stalls lined the walls all the way in. I was taken aback at my first sight of DVC. I had expected to see the Vatican and got a New York shopping bazaar—in a Flintstones setting—instead.
“This is your church?” I whispered to Dyvian.
He chuckled. “We don’t exactly have a church, but if you’re wondering where Hallir lives then you’ll find his place further inside.”
I pulled on Lucian’s sleeves. “Do you think he’ll like me? Will he think I’ll suit you as a girlfriend?” I had dressed to impress with a yellow cotton polo shirt, pleated white mini-skirt, and pink canvas sneakers. Since Evren were strong and I wasn’t—yet—I was aiming to look athletic at least with my tennis-inspired get-up. I had even debated carrying a racquet to complete the look, but Dyvian had said it was overkill.
Lucian seemed to be counting to ten before answering. “For the last time, Deli—”
“Oh, look, they’re selling really nice jewelry here.” I waved vaguely toward a booth displaying rows of colorful accessories. I had a feeling he had been about to say something quite cutting, and I wasn’t in the mood to have my confidence dampened.
He didn’t say anything, and I stole a look at him when the silence continued.
He was gazing at me with inscrutable eyes when the smallest sigh escaped him. His knuckles grazed my cheek. “We’ll go shopping after I speak with Hallir. Would you like that?”
I could only stare at him in amazement. It almost seemed like he was apologizing, albeit indirectly. I opened my mouth to tease him, but he had already turned away, snapping at Dyvian and me to hurry.
He led us in a series of twists and turns, going up and down in a maze of torch-lit alleys.
“People are looking at us.”
“Yup,” Dyvian agreed cheerfully.
“Why?”
“Because I’m good looking and popular?”
“Puhleez.”
“Okay, Lucian’s almost just as good looking—”
“Why are they looking at me?” I butted in before he could go on and on with his delusions.
“Ah, that. I guess it’s because you’re the first human in centuries to have been successfully turned into Evren.”
I mulled that over. “Is that a good thing?”
“Of course,” he assured me. “Our numbers are far from growing and successful conversions give our race hope. We don’t want our race to die out.”
Lucian motioned us to hurry, his stride lithe and graceful as we traveled down a steep stairway that took us deeper into the cave. The passage ended with a barricaded bronze door where two men in white livery stood guard.
They saluted Lucian. The gesture surprised me, and when they were done unlocking the door, I asked them, “Is he your captain?”
They gaped.
“Ignore her,” Lucian said quickly and pulled me inside.
“It was just a simple question.”
“Ask me instead.”
“But you never answer the questions I ask.”
“Exactly my point.”
I stuck out my tongue.
“Is this the girl I’ve been hearing about?” a laughing voice asked, and I turned to see an old man with a fu
zzy gray beard in long white robes. He could be none other than Hallir. He was everything I had imagined a prophet would look like. The huge crucifix, the altar with its tablecloth of gold silk, and the rows of church aisles just affirmed it.
The old man approached us with a kind smile. “Hello, child.” He had a gentle face and a friendly voice, but for the life of me, I couldn’t help feeling nervous. An aura of power emanated from him, and I was scared of making the wrong impression as Lucian’s unofficial girlfriend.
Without even knowing what I was doing, I found myself curtsying. “Good day sir,” I stammered as Dyvian started laughing.
I glared at him before smiling nervously at the prophet.
“Relax, Deli. He’s not going to eat you.”
“I know,” I gritted out as I continued to smile. Duh. Didn’t he know how badly I wanted to make a good impression?
Lucian frowned. “Then why are you so nervous?”
“You can be quite insensitive, son,” the old man scolded and smiled at me again. “Forgive his manners. I had thought we taught him better, but I suppose he’s forgotten after so many years.”
“Hallir, I have to tell you something—” Lucian sounded oddly…anxious.
“Were you his teacher once?” I asked shyly at the same time.
“I suppose I was or had been.” He offered his hand. “First things first though. My name is Hallir. And you must be Delilah?”
“I prefer Deli.” I began to relax and flashed him my brightest smile. “How long has it been since you taught Lucian?”
“Hallir,” Lucian repeated, his voice more urgent.
The prophet ignored him, intent on answering my question. “Maybe…a hundred and fourteen years?”
I laughed, then stopped when Lucian and Dyvian’s faces paled. Drat. Maybe I had been too impolite? “Sorry,” I apologized quickly, flushing in embarrassment. “I didn’t mean anything—”
“It’s all right, child. I’ve never been good with numbers. I suppose that is why you’re laughing?” He turned to Lucian. “How long has it been? Maybe one hundred twenty-five years? Twenty-six?”
