by Amy Sumida
“Yes,” Fallon nodded. “It’s very similar to Earth but it functions on a magical level. You know this already though, you're a witch.”
“That's how I know about the Aether,” I started to cut up the beautiful piece of steak before me. “I didn't know about the God Realm until I killed Ku.”
“I’ve heard stories of you,” Aidan plopped down with his plate. “You were one of the recent things Nyavirezi used to scare us with. ‘Don’t try to leave the palace without me or the Godhunter will get you’, she’d say.”
“Shut up,” I laughed around the huge piece of steak in my mouth.
“It’s true,” Darius smiled grimly. “Instead of frightening me, it made me want to meet you.”
“I have to admit,” Fallon’s mouth twisted into his secret smile, “I was intrigued as well.”
“Oh, I see how it is,” I looked around, surprised to notice that the Pride had all found spots close to us. Avid eyes watched and I’m sure their ears were tuned in as well. “You needed a goddess dead, so who better than the Godhunter, right? Was this a set up?” I teased.
“Hardly,” Darius scoffed. “I just quickly realized that keeping you alive might benefit us more than killing you, that day in Arizona.”
“Well here’s…,” I looked around suddenly. “Does anyone have something to drink? I’m parched, this is some dry country.”
Fabio walked up and handed me a glass of ice water. Okay, so it wasn’t Fabio but damn the boy looked like him. Well, better than him actually, younger and a bit softer around the mouth. He smiled at my staring and flipped his thick mane of blonde hair over his shoulder. Yep, I was definitely calling him Fabio… in my head. His name was actually... sniff, sniff, sniff, Aaron.
“Thanks Fa.., ah, Aaron,” I smiled and he nodded before taking a seat behind me.
“Tima,” Darius practically growled the word.
“What?” I looked guiltily over at him.
“You were saying?”
“I was?” I glanced back at Fabio/Aaron distractedly. “Oh, right,” I held up my glass, “Here’s to hasty decisions.”
Darius shook his head with a smile, his hair slipping in silken waves over his shoulders, as he raised his glass to mine. I watched him settle his body into a more alluring pose and glanced back at Fabio/Aaron to test a theory. Yep, when I looked back, Darius was frowning and puffing out his chest. This couldn’t be good.
“So who wants to go to my club tonight?” I looked around at my pride and they all cheered. “I guess that’s everyone then.”
“Are you sure your mate will approve?” Fallon whispered to me.
“Nope,” I shrugged and tried a bite of the potato salad. It was good, real good. “Yum. Ryan, did you make the salad as well?”
“Yes, Tima,” I heard his voice carry over from the grill. “I'm glad you like it.”
“Tima,” Fallon sighed. “Do you really think shoving us in the Wolf Prince’s face is a good idea?”
“He has to get used to you,” I nodded and took a swig of water…boy, it was hot and the water was almost a necessity. “I want him to meet the Pride and this way it will be on his turf where he’ll feel more at ease. I think it’s about as good a situation as I can hope for. I’ll call and let him know. He’ll probably want the Froekn there as well.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Fallon’s face cleared as he looked at me with renewed confidence.
“I’ve lasted awhile among the gods,” I smirked, “I’m not a complete idiot. Although there are times I wonder.”
“There is something else we need to discuss,” Fallon’s face grew serious.
“We don’t need to burden her yet,” Darius shot him a glare.
“Don’t you think she’ll be upset that she wasn’t informed immediately?” Fallon glared back.
“Alright, children,” I waved my napkin between their faces. “You have to tell me now, so there’s no sense in arguing. Out with it.”
“There is one of the Pride who is ill,” Fallon’s eyes held a wary pain that made me want to resurrect Nyavirezi and kill her all over again.
“What the hell?” I stood up, my food suddenly forgotten. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have brought Teharon with me today. Someone escort me back to the tracing point so I can go get him.”
Before I could wander off, Darius took my hand and pulled me back down. “It’s not that kind of an illness, Tima.” He placed the food back into my lap. Like I could really eat after they dropped that bomb.
“I’m waiting,” my voice rose an octave in my concern. “What’s wrong with him? Tell me now. In great detail.”
“He’s bonkers,” Aidan spoke up but was quickly silenced with a look from Darius.
“One second you guys are praising my strength and the next you’re treating me like I’m a useless, fragile idiot. Don’t beat about the bush. Tell me what the fuck is wrong with my lion!”
The men around me stared with wide eyes before soft smiles started to spread like butter in the sun. It wasn’t until I noticed Fallon’s satisfied gaze that I realized what I’d said, how I was acting. I smiled back at them for a second before turning to Darius for my answers.
“Nyavirezi had her favorites,” Darius’ voice had dropped, like speaking it any louder would give power to words he’d rather bury. “Kirill was her first consort, the one she summoned the most, and he suffered for it. As much as we craved her attentions, actually receiving them was often not so pleasant.”
“Why does that not surprise me?” I stared down at my half eaten plate before putting it aside to give Darius my full attention.
“Kirill not only took the brunt of her passions but was forced to aid her in her pleasures.” Darius looked at me with haunted eyes that begged for understanding so he wouldn’t have to spell it out.
“She tortured all of you, tortured him, and when she was tired, she made him torture you,” my words fell into a thick silence. I remembered the glimpses I'd had of their memories. Darius nodded. “How long has she been abusing Kirill?”
“My guess would be a couple of centuries,” Darius shrugged, looking anything but casual, “give or take a few years.”
“And now he’s insane?” I couldn’t imagine being tortured, then forced to torture men who were like brothers to me, all the while being expected to sexually service the horrid bitch for centuries. I barely made it out of one night in Aphrodite’s dungeon. Years with a sexual sadist was probably akin to a lobotomy.
“We keep him as comfortable as possible but he must be constantly chained,” Darius looked away and his throat worked convulsively before he could continue. “I believe a swift death would be merciful at this point, Tima. Nyavirezi has always refused but I know you will not fail him.”
“What?” I looked around at the suddenly sober faces and felt my heart sink. Why did it always come down to murder? And why was I always the one who had to do the killing? Did I have a neon sign flashing above my head? “No, not without trying to save him first.”
“Tima, it’s not a pretty sight,” Fallon took my hand gently. “He’s violent, often shifting from man to beast till he’s exhausted himself enough to find some peace in sleep. He would ask you for this if he could.”
“I'll judge that for myself,” I stood and dropped Fallon’s hand. “Take me to him. Now.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
At least the room was clean, that was about all I could say for it. The walls, floors, and even the ceiling were scarred with deep gouges and the only touch of comfort was a mattress that had seen better days. There was a doorway leading to a bathroom which looked close enough for his chain to reach, the door was nowhere to be seen. Light poured in from a high window but there were no light fixtures on the ceiling and no lamps, so the room would be completely black by nightfall. I guess it wasn’t such an issue to lions but it made me sad to think of Kirill alone in the dark.
In the center of the floor was a massive metal plate with a chain attached to it. On the
end of the chain was a man. When I first entered, he was lying serenely on the mattress, naked and even more beautiful then the men behind me. It was clear to see why Nyavirezi had chosen him as her favorite.
Perfect, lightly tanned skin stretched over taunt muscles that stopped just short of being too massive. He was tall but even that was not extreme, I guessed him to be around six-foot-four, and his long hair streamed in gentle waves of ebony down his chest to pool around his hips. His strong features weren’t relaxed, even in sleep, but strained together as if his battle was constant and fierce.
“How does he keep his hair so beautiful?” I whispered and his eyes shot open, fixing me with an indigo stare so dark blue, it was almost black.
“Shifting makes everything brand new again,” Darius’ voice came from my back, laced with a choking despair.
“Kirill,” I spoke softly. “I’m Vervain and I’d like to help you.”
The man on the bed shifted his head a bit but continued to stare at me so blankly that I wasn’t sure he’d even heard me. I was beginning to doubt their claims of violence when he sprang, shifting as he went, at my face. The chain stopped him short and he fell with a crash and a horrible whimpering sound. My eyes shot to his ankle where what I'd thought had been a manacle, revealed itself to be a bar inserted between his bones and welded on each side to the heavy chain.
“Why is he chained like that?” I turned my sickened eyes to Darius.
“He shifts, Tima,” he said quietly, his eyes never leaving his fellow lion, “it’s the only way to keep him chained.”
I took a shuddering breath and sank to the floor, weighed heavily by misery, as I stared at the horror my predecessor had wrought. Darius placed a hand on my shoulder but I shook it off. I couldn't be touched. If someone touched me, I'd lose it.
“Get out,” my voice trembled but I wasn’t sure what emotion it was filled with, there were so many vying for attention. Horror, anger, sadness, and a creeping despair.
“Tima,” Fallon started forward but I cut him off.
“All of you,” I looked back at the Intare, their scared, confused faces, and I tried to soften my tone. “Please shut the door when you leave.”
The lion paced in front of me as the door shut behind me, roaring and lashing out at the air between us. Even in his animal form he was exceptional, an impossible black, with blue highlights that matched the slightly human eyes staring out at me. I searched those eyes for some sign of humanity, for some glimmer of sanity, so I wouldn’t have to destroy something so beautiful.
There was nothing, only anger and hopelessness swirled in the glassy orbs. He couldn't be saved, the boys were right, the kind thing to do would be to put him out of his misery. But it was so atrocious, such a devastating waste, to have to kill this man. The weight of it hung down on me, dropping my shoulders and making my heart clench. My lioness roared inside me, desperate to reach her lion, desperate to protect him from what I had to do.
I tried to reach out to him down a thread of magic like the others were connected to me but there was nothing there, we hadn't established a connection yet. I had no way to reach him. I wouldn't even be able to kill him gently without that thread there. I'd have to behead this magnificent creature with my sword. The mere thought of it tore me in two and the pain poured out of me, overflowing my eyes and streaking down my cheeks in hot rivers.
I pulled my legs in, hugging them to me as I mourned. Mourned the small piece of my heart that would be killed when I destroyed Kirill. Mourned the humanity that was slipping away from me and most of all, I mourned Kirill.
The lion before me was lost, even though I'd won the fight and freed his brothers. Kirill was still lost to me and maybe it was hubris to think I could save them all but I had. I wanted to. I needed to and the knowledge that I couldn’t, that one of my first acts as their leader would be to destroy one of them, one of us, the very first werelion created, was acid on my soul.
I cried so violently, so freely, as I hadn’t allowed myself to in such a long time, that it took me awhile to realize the lion had quieted. Sniffling and wiping at my eyes, I looked up and found him lying before me, head on his paws, studying me with a new expression… curiosity. My heart leaped with sudden, and most likely useless, hope.
“Kirill?”
The big head turned to the side, regarding me seriously before sniffing the air between us and letting out a small whimper. My mouth fell open as I tried to remember how to breathe again. There was something left of the man within the beast. I lay down face to face with him and gave him a long, slow blink. He blinked back and I caught my breath. I was using techniques you use to calm cats. Would it work with a lion?
I needed something with my scent on it, something I could reach out to him with so he wouldn't feel threatened. That left out the kodachi. Hmmm. Oh, screw it, I took off my tank top and held it out to him. He snagged it with a claw and dragged it closer. His head dropped and he inhaled deep without removing his gaze from me. He blinked again and rubbed his face into the material, snuffling and making little lion sounds. Okay, next step. This was the scariest because if it didn't work, I wouldn't just get scratched, I might lose my hand.
I slowly stretched out my hand. He watched it closely as it crept forward, completely still until I reached his paw. Cautiously, I stroked one finger down the silky fur over the deadly claw and he eyed it just as cautiously, until I tried to pull it back. Then his head shot out and he bit me.
I inhaled sharply but forced myself to go limp and not scream. Cats often bite you lightly when they don't want you to stop petting them. Granted, his was not the lightest bite but I still had my hand attached to my body, which I considered to be a good sign. So I relaxed, trying not to show any fear, and waited.
My blood dripped down my wrist and made a soft tap as it hit the floor. It was barely a noise at all but it was enough to bring Kirill back. He dropped my hand and started to lick it, carefully cleaning the wound before nuzzling against it. I was so relieved, I almost started to cry again as I braved a quick stroke of his face. The lion leaned into my hand, rumbling satisfaction through his chest. He was purring.
Then the door opened and all hell broke loose.
“Tima,” Darius’ voice was soft and awed but the sudden sound startled Kirill.
I found myself dragged back under the shaggy body as Kirill roared and lashed out at the others. They backed off, frantic but wary, and I was left to view the world from beneath thick black fur while pondering my sanity. Even lying beneath the massive beast, I still couldn’t find regret for my actions. Instead, I was filled with hope. Kirill was showing signs of protectiveness, which made me believe that somewhere beneath all the pain, there was still a kind heart.
“Get out,” I told them again. “If you care anything for me and your brother you will leave. Come back in an hour.”
They stared at me like I was crazy.
“Tima,” Darius dropped to his knees. “You must kill him, please. You can do it painlessly, just concentrate on him going to sleep and dying without pain.”
Kirill tensed around me and I automatically reached out to stroke him. How demented was it that I’d never felt more safe in my life? Somehow I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, his magic had finally recognized mine and even though my lioness had been used to destroy him, I knew she had the power to heal him as well. I knew she wanted to heal him, wanted to repair the damage she’d been forced to do.
Then he lay his head to mine and his scent rolled through me. I inhaled deep, metaphysically grabbing his thread with both hands and tying him to me. I could feel his heart now, feel the strength of it, and I knew I could stop it painlessly if I wanted to. I also knew that I'd fight to my last breath to prevent that because this thread was special. Our connection glowed and pulsed, thrumming with a unique magic. There was something in him that was important to the Intare, important to me, and I knew he needed to live.
“I’m not Nyavirezi,” I kept my voice low and calm. “I won’t ke
ep him alive for spite but I will keep him alive for hope. I’m not giving up on him yet. Look at him; look at how he’s protecting me. He’s not completely lost to us. Give me some time and a little faith. Oh, and someone go let Trevor know I’m not going to make it home for dinner.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Night found me reading fairy tales to my very own Beast. The boys had brought me books, a portable stereo with CDs, bedding, and a lamp. Kirill wouldn’t let me retrieve the items until they left, so they had to leave them by the door and lock us in. By the time Darius brought our dinner, I had made me a little nest on Kirill’s mattress in the corner.
He had calmed shortly after the others left us the first time and remained so, content to simply watch me, listen to the music I played or the sound of my voice as I read to him, until they returned. Every time someone else stepped foot into the room, he’d go wild, pulling at his chains, roaring, swiping at them, and moving his body to block any path to me.
Instead of worrying me, his behavior reassured me. He had obviously sunk into his beast to escape whatever was done to him and now he was so deeply entrenched that his understanding was only an animal's. I could work with that. Didn’t I live with a werewolf? Didn’t I think of myself as a mother to a cat? And most importantly, didn’t I hold three beasts within me already? I could do this.
I was just finishing the story of The Ugly Duckling when the sound of a commotion warned me of imminent visitors. Kirill jumped out from behind me, unbalancing me since I’d been laying on him, and stalked to the end of his chain.
“Kirill,” I called, just as the door opened and Trevor strode in. “Stop, Trevor!”
My werewolf was in a tizzy but he automatically halted at the sound of fear in my voice. He took in the scene quickly and was left in obvious confusion. Kirill made a low sound of warning as he immediately determined Trevor to be his greatest threat and faced off with him.
“What the fuck is going on here?” Trevor’s fearless gaze went from me in the rumpled bed to the angry black lion.
