The frantic vampire howled and thrashed in his grip, and he began to feel the tugs of her aura against his scales—the desperate attacks tearing bits and pieces of his new body from his frame and raining the bloodied chunks to the floor—and he grinned through the discomfort at her efforts.
“A fighter to the end, eh Buttercup Baby?”
Before she could consider a snide remark, he slammed her head forward into the doorframe, chuckling as both her body and the invisible attacks from her aura went still.
She was finally his!
Releasing the grip on her neck, he let the unconscious body of Serena Vailean start to slip to the floor before reclaiming his hold on her hair, this time making sure to keep his grip at the base of her scalp, and began to drag her into her new life with him, starting to hum as he did:
“Go-ing to the chap-pel and we’re… go-o-onna get ma-a-a-arried! Yes, I’m… go-ing to the chap-pel and we’re… go-o-onna get ma-a-a-arried!”
THREE DAYS.
Three god forsaken days.
Three days’ worth of tension weighed down Zane Murdoch’s shoulders as he paced back and forth in the community room of the Clan of Vail. Zoey, Isaac and Raith, all sitting on a nearby couch, watched their friend-and-clanmate stalk across the same path over and over; watching with a still and quiet awe as he continued to pace like a caged animal that could, at any moment, rip free of its confinements.
And, in this comparison, they weren’t inaccurate; Zane had long since been recognized as the vampire clan’s hot-head, though the true threat behind his temper had been removed from his bodies three days earlier.
Three god damned days earlier…
A cage of time since his lover, Serena Vailean—the new leader of their clan—had been kidnapped by the very being that he’d been so eager to be rid of. And each day that passed was another cake of rust on the animal’s bars; another burning need to break through and cause some damage until, somehow, it brought her back.
“Three fucking days,” he growled to himself. “Three days and zero sign of Serena or Maledictus!”
Maledictus…
He shivered at the mention of his name; the gut-wrenching title given to his waking nightmare of the past twelve years; a waking nightmare that they’d put into its own body and turned into a walking nightmare.
A walking, dirty-talking, murderous, rape-happy nightmare that had been holding his lover and their clan’s leader who-knew-where for…
Zane sighed and finally stopped pacing.
Running his hands through his disheveled hair, he turned his attention to the others in an attempt to find some sort of salvation.
“She must be out there, Zoey! How fucking far could that monster have gotten?” he snarled.
“Zane… you need to calm down! This is no way to fix the problem!” Zoey turned her bright blue eyes to him.
“She’s right, mate,” Raith, his best friend, agreed.
Zane groaned and looked down, feeling the rage pass and a new wave of depression and guilt slam into him.
“I can’t lose her, Zoe…” he whispered, letting the sudden current of relaxing energies to flow through him, knowing they were coming from his auric friend.
“I know,” Zoey offered, the pain of Serena’s disappearance burning in her own eyes. “But we can’t allow ourselves to lose hope, Zane. If there’s a chance for her, it starts with us staying positive that we can we will get her back.”
“You haven’t slept at all. Why don’t you go get some rest, mate?” Raith stood up and offered a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “We’ll continue to search while you do. Zoe’s right, have hope, and have some faith in us.”
Zane only gave a weak nod—the force of his exhaustion coming down on him; no doubt another mind-trick from Zoey, but one that he didn’t mind succumbing to—before turning down the hall and heading for his room.
Pushing the door shut behind him, he eyed his bed like a long-lost friend before letting himself fall onto the unmade mess, not even bothering to undress or turn off the lights before letting sleep drag him out of his three-day burden.
“Serena?” Zane called out, stepping through a canopy of clouds and seeing his lover chained to a stone wall.
Serena’s face contorted in pain as her lips opened and called to him, but no sound came out. The need to protect her grew and he started towards her to help.
With every step he took, she grew two paces further.
Desperate, he ran faster, watching in horror as she continued to grow more and more distant.
A cycle of trying to close the gap between them only to have her grow that much farther away continued until darkness began to shroud her, threatening to take her from his sight. Zane looked around, trying to see through the darkness to find her.
He needed to save her.
Then—suddenly—there was sound!
Laughter.
Serena’s laughter…
“You’ll never get to me, Zane. You are too weak on your own,” Serena’s voice mocked him.
The darkness ebbed and Zane was confronted with Serena lying back with a large shadow above her. Zane felt a tremor snake down his back as he watched a set of large fangs grow from the shadow as a pair piercing red eyes took shape within the darkness. Serena’s condescending gaze held his for a moment longer and she smirked, running her hand over the shadowy figure.
Maledictus!
“You’ll never make it, Zane… you aren’t strong without him!” Serena laughed, running her hands across his shoulders.
“Ha! YOU are NOTHING without me, bitch-boy!” Maledictus cackled, “Without me saving your ass at every fucking turn, you won’t even be able to survive!”
The words sunk into Zane’s chest and he froze, helpless to say anything or do anything. The darkness swam across him as he watched Serena succumb—and outright ENJOY—Maledictus’ embrace. Her mocking laughter growing into an all-consuming roar that taunted him as her cries of ecstasy pierced through the veil and he fell to his knees in loss.
“Serena… no!”
Serena opened her eyes to the sound of rattling chains and glared over at the metal pipe that she was bound to. The pipe that Maledictus had dug free from an otherwise off-white padded wall that made up one of six equally padded and equally off-white surfaces—walls, ceiling, and floor—in a room that, though she’d only been in there for three days, already felt like a jail cell to her. Though, all things considered, this wasn’t too far from the reality. While the length of the chain allowed for some moving room, she already knew full-well that it wasn’t long enough for her to even reach the other side of the already laughably small space. Were it not for the growing rage and panic, she might’ve admitted that Maledictus’ decision to hold her hostage in an insane asylum was almost clever.
It certainly seemed like an appropriate place for him to hunker down.
As she collected her bearings from yet another unpleasant set of dreams rousing her from yet another uncomfortable round of sleep, she tried to stand and and whimpered at the struggle to perform even the simplest of tasks.
Her refusal to eat was beginning to take its toll on her.
She glared at the pile of dead vermin—rats and mice mostly, but Maledictus had made a big deal about tossing a still-twitching squirrel into the room the previous night—that littered the floor around her; all of them lying just out of her reach. This, however, had been her doing; an effort to keep herself from potentially succumbing to the hunger and accepting her kidnapper’s “offerings.”
She’d sooner die than give him that satisfaction.
As she leaned her head weakly against the metal pipe, she looked up towards the padded, off-white door as its hinges groaned loudly.
Then, standing there like a nightmare, was Maledictus.
Serena sneered at the changes that had already begun to show in the ykali body he’d stuffed into; an already hideous creature that was being made even more revolting by the repugnant being occupying its f
orm. Long, bony barbs had begun protruding out of his shoulders, and his limbs had begun to warp with the recent growth, causing an uneven and hobbled effect whenever he walked or gestured. She looked up to meet his shifty reptilian gaze and fought the urge to instantly look away, refusing to let him see what sort of power he already had over her. The ykali’s face had already taken a turn away from the lizard-like and a long drive down the road of the demonic; his brow and temples already darkening, and a long, too-wide of a grin lined the lower half of his face.
Serena fought the urge to look at his clawed ykali hands as he held out a few more dying vermin, dropping them within the range of her shackles before beginning to rub his hands together like a fly perched atop a dog turd.
She bit her lip, feeling the growing hunger emerge even as she fought desperately to control it. She just had to hold onto hope that Zane and the others would find her soon.
In a desperate act of self-control and forethought, she began throwing the offerings out of her reach before burying herself back in the corner.
“Still not eating, I see,” Maledictus leered. “That’s quite foolish.”
She narrowed her eyes as he kicked one of the vermin in front of her with a gangly lizard leg and sneered at the still-twitching creatures. Looking to her as a challenge, she once again swatted the offering away.
“I’d rather starve than take charity from you,” she spat. “Especially when that charity is every bit the vermin you are! So unless your prepared to open a vein—or all of them—I suggest you stop trying!”
Maledictus frowned at that, “It’s been three days now. That’s three days that nobody has found you.” He crouched down in front of her, hooking one of his ykali talons behind one of the dying rats and inching it closer to her, “You’d imagine that your friends would be clever enough to track you down in that time, yes? That, if they truly cared, they would’ve stormed this place and left not a single bit of me left for what I did. But they haven’t—they haven’t even come close—and still you deny me. Me! Me who has offered you shelter,” he inched the rat closer to her, “Me who has offered you nourishment. When will you open those pretty little purple eyes and see that I am the only future you have left?”
Serena narrowed her eyes at that and hauled back, collecting a wad of phlegm from her sinuses and hawking one of the best loogies of her life in his face. Maledictus roared and pulled back before backhanding her and sending her careening across the room, the heavy links of chain rattling as her body sailed and finally slammed into the wall behind her.
“You have always been one to take the hard way with everything, eh buttercup baby? Well that’s just fine with me,” Maledictus sneered as he itched at a slight protrusion on his chest and a fresh, bony barb exposed itself beneath a chunk of dead, scaly skin that fell onto the ground beside the rejected offerings. “Believe it or not, I actually prefer it.”
Zoey turned to the others after a moment of long silence. She sighed, leaning into Isaac as Raith and Nikki watched the hallway for a moment.
“He’s asleep,” Zoey whispered. “I can’t believe this; we finally had something right going on. Zane finally was free of this beast, after all the years.”
“Seeing things from, well, behind his eyes was hard enough… but now that Maledictus has his own form,” Raith shook his head. “I can’t even imagine what he’s going through.”
“Before Serena… I don’t think Zane would’ve been able to handle it honestly. After Serena came in, Zane changed for the better. I know you were watching, Raith, so I’m sure you can attest for that.”
“Not only Zane though,” Nikki smiled, “I may have only met Serena earlier this year, but watching her handle her power-hungry, Council-seated asshole brother, Keith, an—”
“Why would they even give him a seat? He was so young,” Isaac interrupted.
“Well, at least we don’t have to worry about Keith anymore, seeing as he’s in an auric induced coma.”
“Anyway, seeing her interject him and that Kristine broad’s new clan, Sere—”
Isaac scoffed, “what is it with you fang-heads attracting power-hungry psychopaths? This is why us therions—”
Nikki slammed her fists on the table, “if you interrupt me one more time, dog-breath…”
Isaac looked down and paused on the discussion and sighed, feeling Zoey’s hand on his shoulder.
Nikki sighed, “Either way, Serena has grown just as much as Zane from these past occurrences.”
“Well, Kristine had ties to Serena’s dead lover, Devon,” Zoey sighed. “Serena’s ex-fiancé was killed the night he was to propose to her by Kristine. His aura had tied to Serena’s before Zane’s anger and partially Maledictus’ power destroyed him for good. That auric still had a thing for Devon and then, from there, you could see the vendetta grow. She allowed that revenge to grow, to the point where she used innocent people, people like Axle and his friends, the orphanage, and others to gain power.”
“You’re telling me that that auric mimicked an entire clan for the sake of getting Council backing just to get back at Serena for an ex-lover? That seems strange,” Nikki shook her head, turning to Raith who had been fortunate, if they could use that word, to have taken Axle’s body as his own.
“Do you think there could be a greater power here somewhere?” Zoey tilted her head, looking over at Nikki.
Something did feel strange about this. Zoey paused, knowing she felt this way with Keith, Serena’s brother, and how he had so easily taken ahold of The Council.
“We don’t have time to worry about the past, Zane can’t handle another loss… especially from Maledictus’ hands,” Raith scowled.
“What do you mean by that?” Zoey asked.
“Zane was previously engaged to a sangsuiga vampire named Celine. She was with Zane when we started to work together,” Raith sighed. “She didn’t agree with Zane working with me and in my opinion, she was a heinous bitch. But Zane loved her…”
“What happened to her?” Zoey bit her lip, afraid to know the truth.
“After our curse, Zane went back to the house. He lost control and when he came to, he was surrounded in blood. Celine’s blood,” Raith shook his head. “It broke him…”
“How exactly was this curse created? I know that Zane and you were hoping to obtain something at Nikki’s clan, but the details weren’t exactly something Zane was ready to get into.”
“I had asked Zane and Raith to take something—a relic—from my village,” Nikki chewed her lip. “It had begun to taint my tribe; burden them with an unstoppable rage. They stopped acting themselves and had begun to worship it. Prior to this, my people never worshiped objects; it was considered a sin of sorts. I had hoped that Raith and Zane could steal it and get it far enough away from my tribe to clear their minds. But instead… well, you know.”
“Before that curse, Zane was a different person entirely,” Raith sighed. “He was carefree and upbeat about everything. Not a god damn thing could’ve ruined his optimism on anything. He was my best mate and even now, I promise to stick by his side.”
Nikki smiled, running her hand up and down Raith’s back, noticing the tension growing in her lover. Zoey turned to Isaac, who had been noticeably quiet and smiled, resting her hand on his leg and he turned his green gaze to hers. Without Isaac, Zoey couldn’t imagine going through all this. With him by her side, she knew they would be able to work through it.
Somehow they’d find a way.
“This obviously has everything to do with that receptacle that we pulled out of Zane. What the hell is that thing anyway?” Zoey asked.
~DECEMBER 28TH, 893AD~
~ARMENIAN OUTSKIRTS; JUST OUTSIDE OF DVIN~
~PALACE OF MELEILZSI SHAYKH NAQSHBAND~
~SHORTLY AFTER SUNDOWN~
THE GREAT HALL TREMBLED ONCE MORE as Meleilzsi Shaykh Naqshband’s bellows for his chalice became more enraged. Slave and concubine alike flinched at their master’s roars, and the very walls of his palace—
walls that were rumored to contain the thousands-upon-thousands of bodies that had fallen in the efforts to erect them—shook; seemingly humming with a fury that matched Meleilzsi Shaykh Naqshband’s own.
Those who knew of his power and the magic he wielded also knew better than to question this, just as much as they knew that the phenomena was not an unrelated or random one. There was no question in the minds that Meleilzsi Shaykh Naqshband had allowed to still have thought that there were, in fact, corpses within the walls…
But they were far, far from restful.
While many believed great Meleilzsi Shaykh Naqshband to be a Mage—after all, the rumors of his magic were the stuff of legends, and it was no secret from any, both within his palace and without, that he had an affinity to working with the dead—it was clear that his workings were something far more sinister and, moreover, reserved for his gain alone.
That the walls now rumbled with the fury of the palace master’s demands was proof that the flames of his magic were growing, and it would not be long before all within the palace walls would burn if those demands were not soon met.
It was the victorious shouts of Arezoo, Meleilzsi Shaykh Naqshband’s most coveted of concubines, that finally stilled the rising storm. The soft-yet-steady patter of the young girl’s nimble feet echoed through the still-bloodstained halls, and any set of eyes that were privy to the sight of her swiftness shimmered with a bastard hybrid of awe and terror. And while, on any other day, this might have been in response to her alien beauty, their gazes cared little for her appearance at that moment. Undeniably, with her almond-toned flesh that offered the same smooth flawlessness as the porcelain treasures of the far-East and a mane of hair so golden it put the treasures of sultans to shame, she was a sight to behold; a goddess, some would say. However, on that night, all beauty and splendor for not, it was the threat that Arezoo’s swiftness with the palace-master’s chalice, his most beloved of relics, that forced the air within their chests to still.
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