Lovers Awakening

by R. A. Steffan

  Trynn’s stomach clenched. What was he saying? That they wouldn’t even try to save Eris? Selfish anger rose. Yes, the thousands of possible victims in this act of violence mattered. Yes, it would be a devastating blow to the world if the radioactive fallout killed or injured thousands of others. The course of humanity would be irrevocably changed.

  Yet, panic welled up at the thought of losing Eris. Didn’t his life matter, too? These people were his friends! Shouldn’t they be doing everything in their power to rescue him?

  Trynn thought back to the malicious words she’d hurled at Snag. The accusations she’d made. At the time, she’d only been interested in goading him into speech. Now, she felt sickened by the exchange.

  She’d goaded him, all right, and he’d ended up communicating far more than she had expected or intended. It was obvious that he cared for Eris deeply. After what she had seen in his mind, she would have known that even if he hadn’t hurtled off without a moment’s hesitation to rescue his friend, the instant he was released from his vow to protect Trynn.

  Surely he, at least, would not abandon Eris to his fate.

  Christ. She needed to apologize to Snag when he got back—probably on hands and knees.

  Even that thought was chilling, though. With powerful demons and evil men wielding nuclear weapons arrayed all around them, how could she be sure that Snag or Eris would return? She didn’t know if she would ever see either one of them again.

  The growing sense of helplessness ballooned inside her chest, constricting her heart, nearly overwhelming her.

  Della was looking at her as if she could see right into Trynn’s thoughts. Hell, maybe she could.

  Now was not the time to be selfish. She had to focus on all of the lives that could be lost to these attacks. She needed to be thinking up a plan to help, not blubbering in the corner like some kind of damsel in distress. She needed to figure out a way to stop this.

  Trynn took a deep breath and searched desperately for some way to resolve the bomb crisis and save Eris at the same time. She dropped her head into her hands, staring at the darkness behind her closed eyelids. She squeezed them shut so hard that lights flared like red starbursts. Before the whirling patterns had fully faded, an idea came to her, springing from her subconscious fully formed.

  Trynn jerked upright. “Shit! I know what we can do!”

  Della had jumped in surprise at Trynn’s outburst, and Tré spun around, his intense silver stare pinning her in place.

  “Okay—you’re not going to like this part,” Trynn said quickly, “but I have to get back to my hotel room across town and pick up my computer.”

  “If Bael is after you, that’s ridiculously dangerous—” Della said, but Trynn interrupted her.

  “You don’t understand! I have to, Della—untold human lives depend on this information! Eris’ life depends on this information!”

  The two vampires stared at her intently, then at each other. With a flash of irritation, Trynn realized that they were conversing silently—discussing her as though she weren’t sitting right in front of them.

  “I’m serious,” she said through gritted teeth, shoving her chair back from the table and jumping to her feet. “I’m not crazy. I have an idea.”

  “All right,” Della said unhappily, standing up as well. “We’ll take you, but we have to go now, while it’s still nighttime.”

  “I’ll get dressed.” Trynn nearly sprinted the length of the suite. Her shirt was ruined, but her sensible trousers were wearable. After a bare moment of hesitation, she rummaged through Eris’ luggage for one of his casual button-down shirts and rushed into the bathroom to change. She emerged moments later with his sleeves rolled up to her elbows, the hem of the shirt hanging to the top of her thighs. She snatched her handbag and threw it over her shoulder as she headed towards the door, where Della and Tré were standing, ready to depart.

  They passed out of the palatial hotel peacefully enough—most of the inhabitants were fast asleep at this hour. Trynn felt an unnatural stillness press against her as soon as they stepped outside. No breath of wind was stirring, and the air felt heavy with a coming storm. Sirens wailed in the distance.

  “It’s already starting,” Della said. “I can feel it. We’ll need to hurry.”

  The normally sleepy city seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for something. Trynn’s hair stood on end, gooseflesh erupting across her arms even though the street in which they were standing was calm and no sign of disturbance reached them from the nearby buildings. Trynn glanced towards the west, and saw a flickering, insubstantial glow of orange reflecting off the distant buildings.

  Fire.

  “It’s normally not like this,” Trynn whispered, hesitant to even lift her voice enough to penetrate the darkness. She swallowed hard, feeling as though a shadowy presence was closely watching her every move.

  “It’s part of the vortex forming around you,” Tré said grimly, his eyes scanning the shadows. “You are the eye of the storm.”

  Trynn shifted uncomfortably for a moment before taking a steadying breath and heading in the direction of her hotel. An agonized scream rent the air a few blocks away, and she flinched hard, nearly stumbling over her own feet.

  “All of this can’t really… be because of me, can it?” she whispered.

  Della steadied Trynn with a hand on her back. “In a manner of speaking, yes,” she said. “The same thing happened to me, you see.”

  Trynn stared down at the shorter woman, dumbstruck. “What do you mean, it happened to you?”

  “I used to be just like you, Trynn,” Della said. “I was living in New Orleans and working in an insurance office, for god’s sake. One day, everything was fine, and then… all these terrible things started happening in the city.”

  Della’s voice trailed off. They walked silently for several moments, as Trynn waited for Della to continue.

  “So many lives were lost,” she finally said, her voice brittle with bitterness and old pain. “I didn’t realize that it was all my fault until I met Tré and the others.”

  “It wasn’t your fault, draga mea. There is only one being at fault for the pain and death… and his name is Bael,” Tré interjected. Della shook her head, frowning. Trynn could tell they’d had this argument before, perhaps many times.

  “But it was like it is here?” Trynn asked, suddenly breathless. “There were fires, and shootings, and suicide bombers, and other horrible things?” Her eyes lingered on the orange glow, shining more brightly now as they made their way further into the city. Heavy, acrid smoke hung in the air. Sirens screamed in the distance, but everything around them was completely quiet as they moved along the deserted street. It was eerie, in a way that chilled Trynn to the bone.

  “Yes,” Della confirmed. “Just like here.”

  “But why?” Trynn asked. “I haven’t done anything!”

  Della and Tré met each other’s eyes, communicating silently again. Trynn felt an unexpected stab of jealousy at the obvious bond between the two, even amidst all the chaos and uncertainty. Trynn felt like her whole world was a breath away from falling apart, and the two of them were busy making doe eyes at each other.

  “Sorry,” Della said a moment later, tearing herself away from her lover’s gaze. “Inside joke. I said pretty much exactly the same thing—on more than one occasion, as I recall.”

  “To answer your question, we have some theories on that,” Tré said quietly. “We think Bael becomes aware of the reincarnated souls of our mates when we wander close enough to them for the bond between us to reconnect. Once he finds them, he pursues them to wherever they are staying. For you, it was here. You got too close to Eris and Bael discovered your presence in Nicosia. His greatest power is in turmoil and violence, so he unleashes the full weight of it and uses it to revenge himself on his enemies.”

  Trynn scratched her neck, thinking. “Why am I his enemy, though? Why should he care whether Eris and I are reunited or not?”

  Dell
a huffed in sympathy. “That’s what I wondered, too. What you don’t understand is that your existence is a threat to him. You are the one the few people who has ever defeated him.”

  Her footsteps stuttered to a halt as she turned to looked at Della. “I… what?”

  “You don’t remember?” Della asked, frowning. “You haven’t dreamed about it?”

  Trynn tried to force down the flush that tried to stain her cheeks at the mention of dreams. But—

  “No,” she said. “I… uh… I know we were together. In someplace that looked like… Ancient Greece, I guess? We seemed really happy.”

  “It was ancient Cyprus,” Tré said, his voice low. “You’re walking the streets of your ancestral home as we speak.”

  A dull spike of shock pierced her, but something about his words also seemed right, like a puzzle piece slotting into place.

  “Oh,” she said.

  Della’s words were gentle. “Trynn, for whatever reason, Bael singled out Eris and attempted to turn him. Bael tried to make Eris into his servant, a shell completely immersed in darkness, who would do his bidding without hesitation or conscience.”

  “Turn him?” Trynn asked, as the three resumed their progress towards her hotel. “How?”

  Tré shivered and looked away, making Trynn wonder.

  It was Della who answered. “He attempted to tear Eris’ soul into two halves, the Light and the Dark. If he had been able to complete the turning, Bael would have drawn the Light out of Eris and cast it forever into the pit of Hell, leaving only Darkness behind.”

  Trynn gripped her hand to her chest, picturing it. “And I stopped that? How?”

  “Only you and Eris know for sure,” Della said, “but certain ancient texts tell us that only the willing sacrifice of true love can protect someone from Bael’s destructive power.”

  “Sacrifice?” Trynn echoed, her mind whirling. Jesus. She’d wanted answers, but…

  Gathering herself, she spoke again. “So he survived and I—what? Died?”

  Tré and Della’s silence was all the answer that she needed. It was an odd feeling, knowing that she had been so in love with Eris at one point that she had willingly sacrificed her life for him. Now, she was tortured by the idea of something bad happening to him, but she hadn’t really worked out how she felt about Eris, or what their next steps would be.

  Assuming he survived. Assuming she did.

  The uncertainty was unpleasant for Trynn, who was used to being able to confidently take control of a situation; who always knew what she wanted from life.

  The past few days had thrown her into a tailspin, unable to grasp what was happening around her. Trynn’s life had burst out of its seams, unraveling before her eyes. Demons? Vampires? Reincarnation? A great war of good versus evil?

  What could possibly be next?

  Yet, it was all real. She’d been thrown into a nightmare from which there was no waking up, no blessed relief that it had all been in her head. She was walking down a darkened, silent street next to two vampires, being smothered by stifling smoke that hung in the air as the city of Nicosia burned around them. They were standing in the terrifying eye of a vicious storm, praying that they could pass through and come out the other side alive.

  It felt like the entire city was teetering on the edge of a chasm, about to slide into chaos and utter destruction. Tension crackled in the air, waiting to explode into violence.

  “We need to hurry,” Trynn said, quickening her steps as they rounded the corner and her hotel came into view. Next to the grandeur of the Merit Lefkosa, the place appeared dilapidated and worn down. Shabby bushes flanked the front door, through which the three companions entered warily.

  The sleepy attendant cracked open a wary eye before tipping further back in his chair, his feet propped up on the desk as they passed by.

  Down the hall, Trynn unlocked her hotel room door and walked inside, flipping on lights.

  To her relief, nothing had been disturbed. Seeing her laptop still sitting on the desk where she left it, Trynn pounced on the device like a cat on an unlucky mouse.

  With frenzied clicks, she logged into her computer and began working as fast as she could, praying that her plan would work.

  Della sat on the edge of Trynn’s bed, watching her without speaking.

  “What are you doing?” Tré asked, wandering around behind her and looking over her shoulder. “What does this plan of yours entail?”

  “I’m sending an email,“ Trynn answered, the words clipped and terse as she worked, focusing on her screen as though Eris’ life depended on it.

  Because, oh, yeah…

  It did.

  FOURTEEN

  SILENCE MET TRYNN’S simple words, and even though her eyes never left her computer screen, she could tell that Della and Tré were communicating telepathically again.

  They probably thought she’d lost her damned mind.

  “Trynn,” Della said hesitantly, “how will that help?”

  A vicious smile spread across Trynn’s face as her fingers flew over the keyboard. “I’m about to turn the tide against our friend, Mr. Kovac. He’s going to fucking well learn what happens when he tries to attack the world on my watch.”

  Despite the tension in the cramped room, Tré let out a snort of laughter at her assertion. “Yes, you’re Eris’ mate, all right. Now, take a breath and explain.”

  “Hold on just a second,” Trynn murmured, clicking between several screens as she tried to ensure she had all the relevant information available to her, while composing a message in Russian in her head.

  After several moments, she spoke. “Okay, so we intercepted this information in the form of emails, right?”

  “Right,” Della said, and Tré shrugged agreement.

  “But we don’t know the true identity of the guy purchasing the suitcase nukes. Nothing beyond the name B. Kovac, which could be any one of hundreds of people—maybe thousands,” Trynn continued. “He always sent these encrypted emails through a series of different servers to hide any identifying information.”

  Trynn could feel herself falling into teaching mode as she explained her theory. “Now, we’ve been trying for months to discover who this guy is and where he came from, but maybe we were going about things all the wrong way? We didn’t know until recently if this information was even legitimate, so we’ve been trying all the while to establish whether this guy is truly a threat. Well, we’re past that point now. He’s obviously a huge threat.”

  “Obviously,” Tré agreed, frowning at her—clearly not getting it.

  “We haven’t paid much attention to the suppliers because we know who they are. That part wasn’t a mystery, since there are databases used by the US government and Interpol that track all the active members of each criminal organization. We already knew their part in the plan, so we never really dug deeper than that.”

  “And that’s what you intend to do now?” Tré asked.

  “No. I’m not acting as a spy in this war anymore,” Trynn corrected. “Fuck that. I’m picking up a gun and changing the course of the battle.”

  “But how?” Della asked, looking just as confused as Tré.

  “I told you, we already know all about Kovac’s supplier,” Trynn said in measured tones. “So… what do you think would happen if the Russian mafia suddenly received correspondence from Mr. B. Kovac, stating that he wasn’t going to uphold his part of the deal? For example, something stating that he wouldn’t be making the full payment?”

  Neither Della nor Tré answered, but slow smiles spread across their faces. For the first time, Trynn could believe that they were predators—she’d seen just such a smug expression once on the face of a cat, contemplating a bird with a wounded wing.

  “I don’t think they’d be very pleased, do you?” Trynn finished blandly.

  “They probably wouldn’t, at that,” Tré replied.

  “I imagine they’d be a bit cross, yes,” Della put in.

  “Plus,” Trynn a
dded, “they’re not really known for their patient and forgiving natures. If a major deal like this went south at the last second…”

  Her voice faded away as she threw them a wide-eyed, innocent look. “Who knows how they might respond?”

  Turning her attention back to the email, Trynn scanned through what she had written one last time and sent the message.

  Once it was away, she pulled up Twitter and focused on finding the users she was looking for. She’d noted several of the more outspoken players in the Russian mafia over the years, and searched now for their handles on the social media website.

  Where are they? C’mon, c’mon, don’t leave me hanging, here, she thought, scrolling through the fast-moving feed. Trynn knew that many members of the Russian mafia communicated through Twitter. She was hoping to see evidence of a sudden shock within their criminal organization as word spread of Kovac’s betrayal. Trynn turned back towards the two vampires.

  “Is there a way for you to communicate with the others?” she asked grimly.

  “The other vampires who are going after Eris?” Tré asked.

  Trynn nodded.

  “There’s a growing distance between us, but Snag is incredibly powerful. I think I can reach him from here.”

  Tré fell silent and cocked his head, as if trying to listen to an elusive sound. After a few moments of quiet, he nodded. “Yes, he can hear me. What should I tell him?”

  Trynn ran through the details of her plan in her mind again, wanting to keep her message short.

  “Tell him that we are trying to disrupt the arms shipment and that the Russians are likely to retaliate against Kovac.”

  Tré nodded. “Della—draga mea, lend me some of your power for a moment.” He closed his eyes, and Della did, too. Trynn watched in fascination as Tré took several deep breaths, as if to center his thoughts.

  Finally, they both opened their eyes and Tré nodded, which Trynn took to mean that the message had been successfully delivered. A combination of excitement and apprehension flooded her stomach as she stared back at the screen, contemplating the events she’d just set into motion.