Dark Stranger The Dream

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Dark Stranger The Dream Page 7

by I. T. Lucas


  He had to rethink the way he did things.

  Some of his workload would have to be relinquished to others. Though knowing himself, trusting them to do it well and then living with the consequences would be tough.

  Kian planted his ass on his throne and waited in the empty auditorium for his people to arrive—not because anyone was late, but because he'd gotten there early to make sure everything was in order...

  Just another example of his OCD...

  As if Shai couldn't have done it for him.

  Tapping his fingers on the armrests, he watched the door, expecting the Guardians to get there first.

  Tradition dictated that the council's meeting place must be secured and protected prior to the arrival of its distinguished members. Though with safety not being an issue in the bowels of the keep, the men would be upholding the custom more out of respect, or maybe habit. Still, he had no doubt they would be arriving soon.

  Besides Kri, their most recent female addition, the six men were seasoned warriors who'd been serving in this capacity for centuries and were likely to stick to doing things the way they were used to.

  Anandur and Brundar were the oldest, serving with him for over a thousand years. Born of the same mother and two very different sires, they were nothing alike.

  Besides both being deadly, that is.

  On the surface of things, Anandur appeared charming and easy-going, always ready to jest and pull pranks. But as a stalwart defender of the clan, the guy was a ruthless slayer of its enemies. His tactic of projecting a demonic visage of himself into his opponents’ minds and scaring them shitless was his kind of a cruel joke. They either ran for their lives or died believing they were going to hell.

  Brundar was still an enigma after all the long years he had been serving as Kian’s bodyguard. Besides his brother, no one really knew him, and Kian wondered how well even Anandur did. Brundar was aloof, secretive and somber. Rumors hinted he had a sadistic streak, others that he was a masochist. One had to wonder, though, how someone that couldn’t stand being touched could enjoy being at the mercy of another...

  Brundar looked like an angel; a vengeful, deadly angel of wrath. Possessing unparalleled skill and agility, he had perfect aim with any kind of projectile weapon and complete mastery with any kind of blade.

  Just as Kian had expected, the brothers made it first, Onegus walking in right behind them. With a slight nod in his direction, the three headed for their places, but then Anandur stopped for a curtsy, lifting his robe's tails like a lady's gown and batting his red eyelashes at Kian.

  It seemed the guy couldn't help his compulsion to clown around, despite it being highly inappropriate considering the circumstances that had brought them here.

  Still, Kian was grateful for the comic relief.

  Onegus, on the other hand, didn't share his leniency, flicking the top of Anandur's head. "Show some respect!" He pinned the redhead with a hard stare before taking his seat.

  It was doubtful Anandur had felt the flick through the cushion of his crinkly hair. Nevertheless, he rubbed at his scalp as he looked at his superior. "It's not my fault that you have no sense of humor..."

  "Oh, just shut up." Onegus was clearly not in the mood to carry on with the guy, and rightfully so.

  What often started with Anandur goofing around, ended up with a sparring match at the gym where the big oaf ruled as an undisputed champion. So unless Onegus wanted to pull rank, he was smart to nip the thing in the bud.

  An inch or two shorter than Anandur, Onegus was still quite tall but not as burly, more on the lean, athletic side. With smiling brown eyes, curly blond hair, and a million dollar smile, he claimed to be more of a lover than a fighter, which, of course, was total crap. Still, it was true that he often used that charm as a weapon in his diplomatic capacity on Kian's behalf and to his own benefit with the ladies.

  "I'm telling you; the assholes didn't know he was one of us!" Kri's agitated voice turned Kian's attention away from the guys. He glanced at the door as she entered the room while arguing with the stoic Yamanu.

  For all intents and purposes, Kri was as good as invisible next to that guy. Yamanu had this effect on people, his startling looks commanding everyone's attention to the exclusion of everything else. Which might have been the reason Yamanu hardly ever left the keep. Except, that raised another important question... How the hell did he manage to get any sex without prowling the clubs and bars?

  Not that he would have to work hard for it, towering as he did at six and a half feet and built like a sculptor's fantasy of how a male body should look. And as if that was not enough, Yamanu wore his shiny, black hair in a straight curtain that fell down to his waist.

  His most startling feature, though, were his hypnotic, pale blue eyes, strange and out of place in his dark, angular face.

  Yamanu was a master illusionist with an ability as powerful as the gods of old. His illusions could alter the perception of reality in thousands of mortal minds, providing a sense of touch, smell, and sound, in addition to sight. On more than one occasion, this unique talent of his had saved the clan from serious trouble.

  With hordes of mortals attacking anything in their path, Kian's small force of warriors hadn't stood a chance, and though his people were hard to kill, a sword could sever a mortal's or immortal's head with the same ease. Even worse, the thought of what those savages could've done to the females if they had gotten past his warriors' defenses... and the children...

  Hell, he'd better not go there if he wanted his head clear for the meeting...

  The last Guardians entering were the somber duo from the Bay Area; Bhathian and Arwel.

  The two looked worn out and miserable, but the sad truth was that it hadn't been the recent tragedy that had caused their misery. It had just amplified it.

  Bhathian always looked pissed off. The big guy, with his tall, muscular frame and strong face, could've been considered handsome if not for the unpleasant vibe emanating from him, which made him look more like an ogre. And Arwel, with his out-of-control emphathtic ability, was wearing a perpetually tormented expression.

  Regardless of their disparate physiques and temperaments, the seven Guardians formed an impressive, unified front in their formal ceremonial attire. Onegus's robe as both Guardian and councilman was white with a double edge of black and silver, the others’ were black with a single silver edge.

  Kian's, however, well... in his opinion, was completely ridiculous. With its blood-red velvet that was edged in black, silver, and white it looked like a glitzy monarch's costume. Only the crown and scepter were missing to complete the despotic getup. But be that as it may, he had no intentions of arguing with his mother over her choice of formal robes. Not that it would've done him any good...

  The doors pushed open again as Shai and the four council members he was escorting entered the room. Acting as if he'd designed the place himself, Shai flicked all the lights back. Pointing proudly, he explained the chamber's features and decor, "…we have four hundred seats down here, and two hundred more can be added on the balcony. The room is decorated in the Neo-Grecian style…"

  Kian tuned Shai out, focusing on the council members instead.

  Bridget, the local clan's only MD, had her medical and research facilities located in the building's underground, and they bumped into each other on occasion.

  Kian liked and respected the pretty redhead, with her pleasant and unassuming demeanor. It never ceased to amaze him that a woman so petite could break and reset badly fused broken bones with ease. It was one of the few things a near-immortal needed medical care for; delivering babies and sewing up the more serious wounds being the other two. All were rare occurrences; which left Bridget with plenty of time to research their kind's unique biology.

  Edna, a brilliant attorney and an expert on clan law, oversaw the legal aspects of their business transactions and presided over clan members' trials.

  Besides her sharp mind, Edna was a tough cookie, which was the mai
n reason Kian had chosen her as his replacement in case something happened to him. He could trust her to handle the job. That didn't mean, though, that the rest of the clan would be happy with her at the helm. She was known as a harsh and unforgiving judge, and though respected, wasn't well liked.

  Kian couldn't remember seeing the woman ever smiling, and her looks matched her austere attitude. Edna didn't bother with making herself pretty. If anything, the opposite was true. It must have been a deliberate effort for her to look so plain. Her brown hair was tied in a severe knot on her nape, she wore no makeup, and the ceremonial robe was a big improvement over her daily wardrobe of ill-fitting pantsuits.

  Edna's one saving grace were her eyes. They shone with intelligence and the kind of understanding that delved into the most hidden places of her victims' souls, reaching behind their mental shields and baring all of their nasty secrets. It was quite unnerving, as Kian remembered from personal experience.

  No wonder she was nicknamed the Alien Probe.

  William, the Science Guy as everyone called him, was the opposite. Good natured and bubbly, he looked like a chubby bear, proving that even superior genes couldn't combat the consequences of a big appetite. William liked to eat, a lot... while sitting in front of the computer, or the television, or with company. He was the go-to-guy for all things technological—one of the few smart enough to translate and comprehend the technical information contained in the ancient gods' tablet.

  Walking between Edna and William, the suave Brandon stood out like a peacock amongst ducks. In charge of culture and media; his job was to promote books, movies, TV shows, and magazine stories; advocating the gods' social agenda—starting with democracy, through equal rights, to education and research—the list was long.

  By portraying the desired state as an expressed ideal, enacting it in stories, plays, and movies; mortals assimilated the message. To strive for something better, people had to imagine it first to be aware of the possibility.

  Understanding this dynamic, oppressive regimes denied their people free access to these sources, fearing the exposure to new and better ideas would promote social unrest. Demonizing the cultures that produced the dangerous materials served as a deterrent to their ignorant and brainwashed masses against seeking the corrupt, immoral, evil, etc. sources of information.

  Unfortunately, there was little Kian could do to bring enlightenment to those closed-off regions, and their populations were falling further and further behind the Western world.

  He often asked himself what came first: Navuh finding fertile ground for his propaganda in these places, or his propaganda creating the atmosphere in which oppressive regimes could gain power.

  The fact remained, though. Wherever women were marginalized, considered inferior, and denied rights available to men, the society as a whole lagged behind.

  No exceptions.

  "Would someone please open for me?" Amanda called for help while kicking the doors.

  As Shai rushed over to let her in, Amanda handed him one of the two Starbucks trays she had been carrying. Besides the trays, she also managed to hold onto a paper bag full of bottled drinks, her robe, and her purse.

  "Sorry I'm late, everyone. I had to have coffee and stopped at Starbucks, but then figured it would be rude to be the only one with a cappuccino, so I brought some more."

  Brandon relieved her of the other tray and the bag, then together with Shai they passed the drinks around.

  "Thank you, guys." Amanda put on her robe and took a look around. "Kian, this is so not the place to have a small council meeting in; it's huge! We need a small room, one with a table to put our drinks on." She took the last vacant chair next to Onegus.

  Kian shook his head. It was so like Amanda to ignore everyone and everything and just say whatever popped into her head.

  "Already on it. Can we begin now?" he asked as he pushed to his feet and turned to face the council.

  "Hold for one more second, I'm starting the recording!" Shai called from his command station at the controls of the sophisticated equipment.

  Kian waited for the guy to give the thumbs up before he began again.

  "Okay. This is council meeting?" He forgot to check the number of the last session.

  "Four hundred and twelve!" Shai supplied.

  "Thank you." Having a secretary with eidetic memory was definitely convenient.

  "This is council meeting four hundred and twelve. All members present." Kian recited the standard opening sentence meant for record keeping.

  Taking a deep breath, he addressed the council. "Last night, Mark son of Micah, was murdered by the DOOM Brotherhood in his own home." Kian paused for a moment, waiting for everyone's shocked responses of disbelief and sorrow to settle down.

  "We were dealt a monumental blow. Beyond losing a beloved family member, the loss of his incredible talent will hinder our progress in developing the software that could potentially save the world by disabling the weapons meant for its destruction." Looking at their worried and pained expressions, he added in a softer tone, "Bhathian and Arwel brought his body home, and the service in his honor will be held tonight at midnight. I ask of you not to mention it to anyone until I have the chance to deliver the sad news to Micah personally." Kian looked at their faces as each member gave him a somber nod of agreement.

  His next request wouldn't meet with such easy acquiescence. Bracing for the inevitable argument, Kian gripped the lapels of his robe and fixed the council with a hard stare.

  "Until the level of threat is ascertained, I move to seclude all council members in our secure building. We can't afford to lose any of you, and we don't have enough Guardians to provide each member with a security detail. You'll have to cancel any appointments you had scheduled for the time being. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but I see no other option."

  "I don't know how anybody can find us among the mortals, there is nothing pointing to us," Brandon protested. "We can't be prisoners in your glass tower; you know we need to consort with mortals for obvious reasons."

  "At this point, we don't know how much the Doomers know. Mark's laptop and sat-phone are missing. We can only hope they don't have anyone capable enough to break through his firewalls. And besides, there might have been other clues at his house that can lead to us. I'm not willing to take unnecessary risks. As to being prisoners, you can still go to clubs, bars, restaurants, and whatever random places you like. I just don't want you anywhere near your habitual meeting or workplaces."

  "If they try to break into his laptop, it will self-corrupt all info. Same for the phone, I'm not worried," William offered.

  "What if they have someone of Mark's caliber?" Kian kept playing the devil's advocate.

  William snorted. “Then we're screwed, but they don't. No one has."

  "Did you inform Mother and Sari?" Amanda looked at Kian with her big, sad eyes, ignoring the whole seclusion discussion.

  "I called them shortly after Arwel delivered the news... Tonight during the service, both of them, together with their people, will be with us via teleconferencing. The whole clan will take part in Mark's final journey."

  "Thank you," she said in a small voice.

  It pained him to see Amanda's usually animated face looking defeated as she sank back into her chair.

  "I think you're being overly cautious, but let's vote on it!" Edna went straight to the point, probably under the assumption that the council would vote against Kian.

  But Kian had an ace up his sleeve.

  "As this is a security issue, the Guardians will take part in the vote."

  This was another advantage of keeping the council members in the dark about the subject of this meeting. Edna hadn't thought to check the emergency bylaws. Not that she could've done anything to stop him if she had known. The council members had no chance; they were as good as tied and locked.

  The Guardians always voted with Kian.

  "I can't just abandon my lab, or not show up for classes!" Amanda protested. "My
work is too important!"

  "So vote against!" Kian cut her short, as it was clear she was over her initial shock and was back to her diva mode.

  "You know how the vote will go!" she hissed at him.

  "Let's see then. All in favor of seclusion, raise your hands!" he called.

  The Seven Guardians and Kian all raised their hands, and so did Bridget. Not a big surprise since she already lived in the keep. Defeated, William and Edna joined the show of hands.

  That left two.

  Brandon shrugged. "Well, what do you know, vacation time for me! I'll finally get to see all the Battlestar Galactica episodes."

  Amanda huffed loudly and stormed out with her robe flying behind her.

  For a moment, Kian was tempted to send Guardians after her... But to what end? Slap handcuffs on her? Lock her in the dungeon? As Annani's daughter, no one would dare touch her... even at his command.

  Kian sighed and ran the fingers of both hands through his hair, smoothing back the annoying flyaway strands. He'd have to go over to her place himself and convince her it was the smart thing to do... Or, what was more likely, drag her out kicking and screaming.

  CHAPTER 10: KIAN

  It was oppressively quiet in the SUV on the way to Amanda's lab. The Lexus's almost soundproof interior filtered the outside traffic noise, leaving Brundar's and Anandur's tight-lipped silence undisturbed.

  Kian craved a cigarette, desperately, and a shot of whiskey... or two...

  He'd quit smoking years ago, but here and there the craving returned with gusto. Like it did now. It wasn't concern for his health that had prompted him to get rid of the habit, after all, his kind didn't get cancer or heart decease. He just hated smelling like an ashtray. The way the stench had used to cling to his hair and clothing had disgusted him.

  Though he would kill for one now.

  Comforting the devastated Micah had been excruciating. It had left him empty and deflated. There was no good way to deliver this kind of news to a mother. You offered your sympathy, said how sorry you were, offered your help in anything and everything...

 

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