Eternal Night

by Kerrion, Jade;

  “Either the sensors failed, or the security logs were altered.” Siri, and perhaps Elsker, would have known how to alter the security logs. “Where is Siri now?”

  “In the chamber, I think.”

  “And Elsker?”

  Tera shrugged. “Who knows? He comes and goes.”

  Ashra’s eyes narrowed.

  Tera glanced sharply at her. The tension rippling through her body flared her wings. “You don’t think—”

  “His responsibilities with the scouts used to take him away from the city far more frequently than any of us.” Turmoil churned through Ashra. Could it be Elsker? Elsker who preached tolerance and the futility of total war, who balanced both Tera’s ruthless streak in battle and Siri’s cold-blooded approach to research?

  She shook her head, dismissing the absurdity of that particular train of thought. How could it possibly be Elsker? For a thousand years, he had been the voice of reason in a domed city ruled by three powerful female icrathari.

  He had pulled her back into the city on that first morning when the world began to burn. He had held her even though she screamed and tore at him with her sharp claws, struggling to break free, fighting to return to Rohkeus’s burning corpse. She would have died that morning if not for Elsker.

  Later, he destroyed the gratitude he had earned that day when he attempted to desecrate Rohkeus’s memory with lies spawned from jealousy and a love lost.

  Still, a thousand years was too long to hold a grudge. Their friendship had survived the loss of Rohkeus. In the final count, there was no one she trusted more.

  So who was the traitor icrathari?

  Siri?

  She controlled the city, knew every detail on how the city functioned. More than anyone, she could make sabotage look like an accident, and she was tired of her unending responsibility to Aeternae Noctis.

  Ashra pushed to her feet. “I’m going to talk to Siri.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “No. I’ll handle this alone.”

  Ashra left her suite and, instead of soaring through the central shaft, waited for the elevator. It bought her precious minutes of solitude. Uncertainty plucked at her. What would you have done, Jaden?

  How was he faring down in the holding chamber? No doubt, it was uncomfortable, though less so now that he had her blood in him. He had been right to separate himself from their conflict; his presence complicated the situation by giving the icrathari an outsider to focus their doubts upon.

  She needed to deal with the traitor icrathari alone.

  Then she would have to deal with Khiarra. Precisely how, she had not yet decided.

  The elevator carrying her up toward the chamber jolted to a stop. Ashra frowned. She tapped the control panel, but the open platform did not move. Suspicion narrowed her eyes.

  A soft sound like the mechanical groaning of levers whispered through the tower.

  Alarmed, she tilted her head and listened intently, but heard nothing more than the perpetual hum of the engines.

  The elevator was still not moving.

  Fortunately, she had wings, or she’d be condemned to taking the stairs. Her wings spread, carrying her easily off the open platform and into the central shaft. When she arrived at the chamber moments later, she found Siri alone, seated in front of the massive electronic network that controlled Aeternae Noctis.

  Ashra landed soundlessly and strode into the chamber. “Did you know the elevator’s not working?”

  Siri shot to her feet and spun around. Her pale violet eyes were swollen and red-rimmed. She pressed a hand against her chest and sagged back into her chair. “Don’t do that again. You startled me.” Her hands tapped on one of the screens. “What’s this about the elevator?” Her voice was deliberately nonchalant. She made no reference to the fact that she had been crying.

  Ashra delicately skirted the topic. “It stopped.”

  “Where?”

  “Between my suite and the chamber.”

  Siri frowned at the screen. “It says here it’s at the infirmary.” She tapped twice more. “And there, I’ve just sent it to the ark.”

  Ashra stepped out of the chamber and peered at the unmoving elevator. “It’s still stuck.”

  Siri leaned out of the chamber to verify Ashra’s statement. She scowled and stalked back to the terminals. “Damn it. What the hell is wrong with this thing?”

  “Perhaps the same thing that is wrong with the external sensors?”

  Siri flinched. “Ashra, I swear I would never have endangered you. We had enough power in the capacitors to keep our sensors running and our shields engaged. Everything was working fine when I went down to the entrance to wait for your return.”

  Ashra eyed the screens. All the systems flashed green. “Just like everything’s working right now?”

  Siri sighed. She fisted her hand on top of one of the screens. “I’ll have to take it apart again.” She ground her teeth in obvious frustration. “Elsker and I just rebuilt all these systems—”

  “When?”

  “We started about five months prior, and we finished two weeks ago.”

  “Why did you rebuild them?”

  “I rebuild the systems every decade or so, Ashra. I’ve been doing it for a thousand years.” Her eyebrows drew together. “Did you really think we’re running on the same hardware that Rohkeus put into Malum Turris a thousand years ago?”

  “I never thought about it before,” she confessed. How much work had Siri invested over the years to maintain Aeternae Noctis? No wonder she was growing weary. “So, it was time for another overhaul of the technology?”

  “Close. We’re about six months shy of ten years, but this time, Elsker offered to help so I decided to get started before his enthusiasm waned.”

  “How much did he do?”

  “Oh, a lot of it. He wanted to know how everything worked, how the tower and city functioned.”

  The chill that coursed through Ashra had nothing to do with the carbon steel structure of the tower. “Could he have altered the way the systems worked without your knowing?”

  “Of course not.” Siri snorted. “That’s ridiculous. He’s not smart enough.”

  Siri, like most geniuses, tended to discount people who were merely brilliant. Ashra did not intend to make the same mistake. “Where is Elsker now?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Time had little meaning in a cell. Tera delivered food and water irregularly, and hours blurred into days. The handcuffs limited Jaden’s range of motion; he shifted in search of a comfortable position but did not find it. Near-constant thirst and hunger sapped his strength, but as exhaustion and lethargy set in, he noticed the chill less. The shivers that wracked his body stilled. His wounds—injuries that should have killed any human—closed, the scars slowly folding over open cuts.

  His body healed; his mind roiled.

  The stomach-churning panic for Ashra’s life won out, numbing his grief over his mother’s death. Over several days, he wrested fragments of sleep when exhaustion overwhelmed him.

  Relief did not come until Tera delivered the news that Ashra had been released from the infirmary, her wounds healed.

  Even then, his mind could not rest.

  What could he have done differently? If he and Ashra could not close the distance between their worlds, how could anyone else?

  Ashra’s image took shape in his mind. Her voice echoed, quiet, beguiling. She held out a hand, offering immortality. Transform, and be with me forever.

  He squeezed his eyes shut. If I did, I would no longer be me.

  She beckoned. He retreated.

  She stood in the gap. He did not meet her partway.

  Her eyes narrowed. A mocking smile flashed across her face. Her lips shaped a single word. Coward.

  Alone, in the silence of his mind, he confronted the truth he had previously denied. I’m afraid.

  Fear was an ingrained reflex that allowed humans to thrive in circumstances greater than themselves.
How could Talon have embraced the change without fear? What kind of extraordinary courage facilitated the transformation from human to elder vampire?

  And why could he not find it in himself?

  Ashra waited.

  Shame clawed through him. He did not move. He did not dare.

  In his mind’s eye, she turned away slowly, but without a backward glance. In that dismissive gesture, the partially built bridge across the chasm that separated their worlds crumbled. He would damn his people to an eternity of fear, of never seeing, never understanding the Night Terrors for the saviors they were.

  And if I try but fail the transformation…

  What would it be like to be an immortali—dazzled and maddened by that glimpse of eternity, a broken mind in a powerful and immortal body, condemned to wander the Earth alone? How much of his life as a human would he remember? How much would he regret?

  Perhaps none, and it would be a mercy. But if he remembered, even fragments, could he ever forgive Ashra for forcing an undesired immortality upon him?

  He didn’t want to be immortal.

  All he wanted was one lifetime.

  One normal lifetime.

  A sworn duty to protect a precious sister—regardless of who she had been in a former life.

  And one unforgettable love. Ashra.

  He closed his eyes against the impossible choices before him. If only he had more time to figure it out. He chuckled at the irony. Perhaps in the final count, his only enemy was time.

  The lock on the door clicked.

  Ashra. Surely she had come for him. He had no answers for her—none that she would accept—but still, his pulse raced, anticipating her presence.

  He looked up.

  The familiar shape of bat wings filled the doorway. The dim light in the corridor cast the face into shadow. The eyes glowed, not pale gold, but bright yellow.

  Chapter 17

  The bat wings fanned into three distinct silhouettes. Three daevas, eyes glowing, teeth bared, filled the cell entrance. Their grins widened at the sight of their prey, handcuffed to the bed.

  Jaden shot to his feet. The motion broke the rail on the steel bedframe. Metal clattered to the ground. Bewildered, he stared at the broken bed and at his wrists, still bound in handcuffs, but free from the bed. Icrathari blood. Thank you, Ashra. He gritted his teeth and yanked his fisted hands apart. The metal links on the handcuffs snapped.

  The daevas’ eyes widened. A flurry of wings and talons leapt at him through the open cell door.

  Jaden dropped into a forward roll, barreled under the initial attack, and dove for the swords lying on top of his leather armor. His hand closed around the hilt. He spun and skewered the closest daeva as they twisted around to meet him.

  The sword pierced its back and penetrated its stomach. The daeva’s screech collapsed into a soundless wail. Rend the soul.

  He swung his other sword out. The blade severed the daeva’s scrawny neck. Sever its life.

  The headless corpse toppled to the floor.

  The two remaining daevas tackled him. Their strength and speed, superior to humans, was no greater than a human-icrathari hybrid, and flight offered them no advantage in the low-ceilinged cell. Jaden brought his swords up to deflect their clawed attack. Sparks flashed as hardened keratin skidded against steel. Unencumbered by wings, he swiveled, spinning around faster than the daevas. He ducked beneath the flapping leather wings, and slashed outward with his blades.

  The edges cut across the back of the daeva’s bare thighs. It screeched and dropped to its knees. The second daeva, its eyes wide with alarm, reached down to support its companion.

  In that split second, Jaden attacked.

  The daeva’s eyes flared even wider. Thin hands clawed with fading strength at the blade protruding from its stomach. Its hiss of agony was silenced with a single blow.

  The remaining daeva blinked at him. The viciousness in the inhuman yellow eyes melted into a plea for mercy.

  They’re related to the icrathari.

  He released his breath in a shuddering sigh and lowered his swords.

  The daeva’s eyes thinned into slits. Its upper lip peeled back; fangs glittered in the dim light of the cell. With a low snarl, it lunged.

  Jaden pulled back, but claws ripped across his left cheek. He ground his teeth and drove his sword forward. The blade sank into the daeva’s stomach. He twisted his sword. The daeva screamed and slumped over. Jaden kicked it off his blade. The daeva lay limp, unresisting, when Jaden severed its head.

  He swiped blood off his cheek. Its metallic scent turned his stomach.

  What were daevas doing in Aeternae Noctis?

  Jaden shrugged on the leather harness for his scabbards and raced through the open door of his cell toward the communicator set in the wall at the far end of the corridor. He dashed past a junction and jerked to a stop. Eyes wide with disbelief, he stared at the swarm of black wings surging through a distant intersection.

  Two daevas swung their hideous heads in his direction. Their upper lips curled back, revealing long fangs. Their black wings flared.

  Jaden sprinted toward the communicator and slammed his fist on the console. “Daevas in the tower. Lower level. They’re entering the city.”

  “What?” Siri’s familiar voice sputtered from the communicator.

  The heavy beating of leather wings stirred the air behind him.

  Jaden spun around and ducked. A daeva’s clawed hand swiped through the air above his head. He drove his sword into its stomach. It crumpled as Jaden pulled his sword free and tackled the second daeva. Its claws tore gashes in his shoulders, but he drove it backward, toward the open door of his cell.

  Jaden gritted his teeth against the pain screaming down the length of his arm. His gaze flicked to the floor and the grooves intended for the door. One more step.

  He pushed the daeva over the edge of the threshold and slammed his hand down on the door controls. With a metallic whisper, the door slammed shut on the daeva’s wings. It whimpered in pain, struggling in obvious panic when it realized its wings were trapped. Another young one, judging from its inexperience. How many of the young ones were the ruling daevas sending to their death?

  Jaden executed the two daevas who had been foolish enough to tackle a battle-hardened human, and then stumbled back to the communicator.

  “How did you—?” Siri caught herself. “What’s happening down there?”

  “Shut down the elevator and seal the central shaft. Lock down the engine rooms and the capacitor storage units. You have to keep them from penetrating the tower’s upper levels. I’m going into the city.”

  “I’ll send Tera into the city, but you’re the only one on the lower level right now. I need you to find the daevas’ entry point and seal it. According to my control panel, the outer door is still sealed, but if it’s open, you have to engage the emergency manual lock next to the door. Open the panel above the communicator; you’ll find a mobile com device. Put it in your ear. I’ll be able to stay in touch with you.”

  He swung the panel open and found a malleable piece of plastic. He inserted it into his ear. He twitched when Siri’s voice spoke directly into his ear. “Ashra’s on her way down to you.”

  “No. Tell her to keep away. There are too many daevas. Can you control the lights on the lower level?”

  “Yes.”

  “Turn them off.”

  “What?”

  “There are too many of them. I’ll need darkness to get through.”

  “But you can’t see in the dark any better than they can.”

  Wings fluttered in the distance, the rasp of leather against metal. He threw a glance over his shoulder. “Too many to fight. I’ll have to sneak past them. Daeva eyes glow in the dark. Mine don’t.”

  The dimly lit corridor plunged into darkness.

  Jaden inched down the side corridor toward the main intersection. Pairs of yellow eyes glowed, darting from side to side, searching for threats. The daevas clustered
together as if they too were afraid of the sudden darkness. Not quite the creatures of the night we imagined them to be.

  The only sound was the swish of leather wings brushing past each other. Jaden pressed back against the wall and lowered himself to a crouch, slipping unnoticed under the daevas’ wings. He scarcely dared to breathe as he inched past the swarm of bodies.

  A warm gust of air swept through the corridor. Damn it. The outer doors were open.

  The traitor icrathari. Was it Siri? Was she sending him to his death?

  Resignation wrenched his soul. The identity of the traitor mattered little with the city already under assault. If he could do only one thing to save the city, it would be to seal the outer doors.

  He spared a quick glance at his surroundings. If there was a hope of escape, he did not see it. He inched closer to the open doors, groping for the lever until he brushed against a cool metallic rod. He wrapped his fingers around it and pulled hard.

  The outer doors slammed shut.

  The sound boomed through the corridor. In unison, the daevas swung around, their yellow eyes searching the darkness.

  Jaden held his breath.

  A pair of eyes moved toward him.

  Jaden crouched even lower, moving slowly to avoid shifting the air. Grasping talons swiped over his head. One brushed against him. The daeva hissed a low sound that escalated into an outraged scream. Jaden slashed out with his sword. The daeva collapsed. “Seal the fire doors on the lower level,” he shouted, trusting Siri would hear him.

  Impenetrable doors slammed into place, partitioning the corridor and segmenting the daeva invasion. Instead of an uncountable horde of daevas, he had only fifty or so to contend with. He squeezed into a narrow alcove to limit the number that could come at him at any one time.

  The daevas’ small frames and ability to hover in the air meant that he still had to face multiple vertical attacks. Bony arms clawed at him, tearing through his thin cotton shirt and pants. They licked his blood off their talons and bared malicious grins at him. It scarcely mattered how young they were. There were too many of them.