***
She lay on the sofa, her legs drawn up to her chest, the bottle of bourbon long emptied lay on the floor having slipped from her fingers. She rolled over, her back pressed to the back of the cool leather sofa, her face buried in the crook of her elbow, her dreams plagued by memories that Karim and his damned eyes had brought to the surface, tossing her into a tailspin of depression and anger within seconds. Now he even invaded her dreams with his charm and sexy smile. How she hated him for making her remember. When that hadn't dulled the feel of him pressed against her or the ache in the pit of her chest, she reached for another bottle and slumped onto the sofa, drinking until she fell asleep.
***
She had known something was off that morning as they packed up camp and headed towards Egypt. She was to be delivered to her father's temple to live under his protection. Since the ouster of his wife Menhit, he had insisted that she be brought to him. Her cousin, Amazonian Queen Hippolyta, had entrusted three of her most skilled warriors to escort her to the seashore where she would board a waiting ship. They had been protective but distant, not knowing her true identity. It was only within the few days of her journey that she felt something was amiss. It had only taken one to be corrupted before it spread to the others right under her nose. She did not know what had been promised or by whom, but it hadn't mattered in the end.
It had been the wine; she realized, as her eyelids grew heavy. The wine she sipped during her afternoon meal on the riverbanks of the Cyndun River, less than a day's ride outside of Tarsus. It was supposed to be poison, but she being who she was it had only weakened her to a point of helplessness. She felt the effects as the sun beat down on her making her light headed, then a current moved through her followed by a sudden and debilitating numbness. What did that mean, she wondered before her mind became foggy and she fell. The next thing she knew, she was sinking into the darkness of the Cyndun River and over the falls that led to the vast nothing of the salty Mediterranean. Something heavy had been tethered to her with a thick heavy rope that was knotted around her waist, pulling her down into the murky depths. There was no light, no air, her body paralyzed, but her mind still active. She was helpless.
Yet, she would not die.
She wasn't sure how long she'd drifted when she felt strong hands under her arms, pulling her from her watery slumber. When she was laid on the sand, her eyes opened and she found herself staring at the stars in the night sky. The air was chilling her skin, but the sand still held some of the heat from the day, warming her back and soothing her. She was on land again, dry unmoving land. She blinked once, twice, then again before trying to use her lungs again. She inhaled, but nothing happened, only the slight sting of the cooling night air on her salt burned throat. She began to cough, before she was rolled onto her side. Everything in her poured from between her lips in a torrent that seemed to shock her rescuer because from somewhere behind her she heard a litany of curses followed by hands on her shoulders.
It was a man, not a regular man, but a male nonetheless with large hands that patted her back as she heaved. He spoke in a tongue that was foreign but after a moment she understood, slowly transforming from garbled gibberish to actual words. He was soothing her, his rich tone even and calming, his hand surprisingly warm on her cold skin. He was from the desert, she knew that from the lilting rhythm of his words. Was he a Persian? She wondered, why else would he be in the desert.
When she finally was able to inhale the clean, cool night air of the desert, her entire body began to shake from the shock of it all. She tried to focus her thoughts on something, anything other than the sting in her lungs and the burn of her eyes, when a shadow crossed her face. Turning to see what fate was to befall her next, she peered into startlingly beautiful pale green eyes. They focused on her with an intensity that was unnerving, but she could not turn away. Then she saw nothing at all.
When she next awoke, she found herself in the shelter of a tent, lying on satin pillows, dressed in a plain cotton tunic that reached her ankles, with nothing underneath. She sat up, feeling as though she had too much drink, her head foggy and her eyes dry from the salty sea. There was a plate of fruit and cheese on a low table nearby and a pitcher full of cool, fresh water. Lanterns burned, filling the tent with a soft amber glow. The tent itself was made of heavy black linen that shielded her from the sun, but she could see rays creeping between the slit that acted as a door. She rose slowly on unsteady legs and made her way outside.
A black stallion was tied to a post in the shade of the tent, a small bowl of fresh water set out for him. There was a small fire pit just beyond the entrance of the tent full of ashes and the faint smell of roasted meat filled the air. She stared into the horizon, the sun burning eyes that had spent so much time in darkness, and saw nothing for miles but smooth, unmarked sand. It was late afternoon; the sun was just setting behind a high dune, and everything was still. Confused, she spun in a circle looking for signs of life to find nothing, no one. Other than the horse, she was completely alone.
And she was starving.
The sun had set and the moon hung large and low in the sky as she lounged on the pillows contemplating her next move. She had spent most of the evening trying to contact Nyx or summon Anhur, her mind reaching out to them until it throbbed from the effort. She wasn't sure if her presence was shielded or if she was just lost to them. Perhaps this was the afterlife and this was her own personal hell. She reached for a grape, popping it into her mouth and thought that her hell wasn't that bad, when something in the sand to her right stirred. She froze, her heart racing as it moved again, then something large rose from the dirt. Her eyes stretched as he shook the sand from shoulder length dark hair, and then pulled himself out of the ground, as naked as the day he was born. And it was definitely a male; there was no doubt about that.
She nearly screamed, the grape slipping down her throat and choking her. She pounded herself on the chest assisting the fruit down her throat. She swallowed hard and tried to catch her breath, watching as he coolly moved toward a large vase, pouring water into a basin and began to wash.
He splashed water on his face, before turning his eyes to her and she gasped. The pale green eyes she had seen before; he had pulled her from the murky depths. She sat slack jawed watching him lift his face and pour the basin of water over his head. It ran down his dark hair and down the column of his spine, over his firm buttocks and muscled legs. She watched the journey with fascination. He filled the basin again and doused himself once more, this time her eyes landed on his sex and she could not look away.
She had seen naked men before, but not one of this magnitude and never this close. He was mere feet away and she could see every detail of him, the ripple of muscle beneath his skin, the wide expanse of his back and the markings that had been etched into his skin. He was lean but every inch of him hummed with raw power and sexuality. She swallowed again, her eyes latched onto that part of him that made him male and it began to grow beneath her gaze. She frowned as it stiffened, jutting up towards his stomach, a fine patch of hair that looked as smooth as baby's hair. It jumped, getting harder and she licked her lips wondering what it would feel like to touch it. Would it be rough or silky smooth? What would it feel like if she allowed him inside of her, surely it would hurt? That was what the others had told her in the camp. They said that it hurt, but only at first and only if the male was unskilled. She had no doubt that this male was very skilled.
A chill went through her as she realized that they were in the middle of nowhere, no other soul for miles and she had no way out. He could take her right now and in her weakened state, she wouldn't be much of an opponent. He could force himself on her and no one could save her. She took a chance and glanced at his sex again, gasping in surprise when it moved.
"Do you see something you like, Caelestis?" At the use of her name, she started, her eyes going to meet his. He was smiling, eyes dancing with delight. When he smiled she noted his fangs. It was something that should h
ave captured her attention, but she had been so focused on his body that she had not paid much attention to anything else. The fact that he'd buried himself in the sand, shielding him from the damage of the sun's rays should have tipped her off as well, but spending so much time underwater had clouded her senses.
Vampire.
Sure, she knew they existed, but this was her first encounter with one. He flashed those teeth again and she wondered if she should be worried about her throat as well as her virginity.
He chuckled.
“'So, you mean to rape me then?" She asked in her matter-of-fact way.
He laughed, a hearty full bodied laugh that took her by surprise, but she remained still. He shook his head and turned to look at her.
"No," he said simply. "I do not mean to harm you in any way."
She leaned back against the silken pillows that had been her bed and crossed her arms over her chest.
"How do you know my name? Who are you?" she asked, sharply. Her regal bearing returning.
He easily slipped into a pair of trousers, tying them at the waist with a strip of leather before turning to her. His hair was still wet, leaving trails of water over that tattoo that ran from his right shoulder, down his arm to his elbow in beautiful scrawl.
"I am Karim. I was sent to find you, protect you. I am your envoy until Pelusium, by the order of your grandmother; I am to keep you unharmed,” he said, coming to sit beside her. "I gave Nyx my blood bond that I would see you safely across the desert." He was staring at her, his eyes so intense that she felt herself backing away from him.
"You are a Persian?" she asked, her eyes drifting back to the dark inky pattern on his tawny skin.
"That I am, Caelestis."
She pursed her lips and looked him over for a moment longer. So, this was her first encounter with a Persian and a vampire. And he didn't seem to mind as her eyes roamed over his form. He was virile and made her think things she had thought of in the presence of no other male. She found herself wondering what his skin would feel like, if she touched it. Would he be cold like the long dead or warm like the living, breathing man she saw before her?
"Not what you were expecting?" he asked.
"I expected nothing,” she said honestly.
"I hope I do not disappoint." His tone was teasing and a shiver when through her. It was a shot of electricity that made her heart beat faster and her palms sweat. She felt an exciting stirring and pushed it away. What was happening, she thought.
"Where are we?" she asked, swallowing around the lump that had formed in her throat. She had not been around many males, growing up in the Amazonian village. There were some, during mating times and celebrations, but none like this creature. He was looking at her, watching her eyes move as if he were trying to memorize her features, burning them into his memory.
"We, are outside of Hamath."
She gasped, rising suddenly.
"Hamath? But-we were just outside of Tarsus - nearly to the shore. I do not understand." She was hundreds of miles from where she'd begun. Hamath was a port city halfway between Egypt and Tarsus. She had floated nearly across the Mediterranean Sea. She sat still for a moment, her eyes closed as she tried to will herself to Egypt. Nothing happened.
Shrugging, she tried to again, this time willing herself to Nyx's temple. Again, nothing. She looked at Karim, her brow furrowed.
"Why can I not go to Nyx? Why can't I feel her? Why can't I feel any of them?" She could hear the rising panic in her tone and swallowed to keep herself calm. He was before her in a blink, kneeling in front of her.
“Be calm, little one. Whatever was given to you bound your abilities. As soon as we get to Nyx, she will fix that. It is only a temporary issue. That's why I am here.” He ran a hand over her hair, intent on calming her. She looked at him with those big bright eyes and he melted. Damn, she was gorgeous.
"What has happened?" She took a deep breath, trying to reign in the panic that threatened. Why could she not use her teleportation? Why was Nyx unable to find her? What had they done to her?
"Nyx lost contact with you on the day you were to arrive, that was when she sent scouts in search of you. Somehow, your bond was broken. Your escorts, the women you thought of as sisters, had been corrupted. You were poisoned and your body tossed into the Cyndun River. You were carried out to sea. Many believed you were ... dead. Nyx did not believe so." He pulled a tunic over his head and ran a hand through dark hair. She could see more of his face then, a beautifully chiseled face with eyes that made the hairs on her skin rise.
"Why did she not come herself? I have not been away that long, have I?" she asked sipping from a goblet of wine. It was sweeter than any wine she'd had before and made her feel slightly light headed. She supposed it was from her lack of food and so much time in the sea. She'd been in the sea, she marveled. She stared at her hands, her finger tips still pruny from being submerged.
"Caelestis,"
"Calie. If we are to travel together, I prefer Calie," she said absently, before meeting his gaze. Again that soft, sexy smile made an appearance, his fangs illuminated in the candle light. She ran her tongue over her own tiny fangs feeling her need to feed returning. The sooner she fed, the stronger she would be but if she drank from him, that meant she would have to return the favor and she was not sure she wanted the male’s mouth anywhere near her tender parts.
"Calie, you have been lost for a long time. Your presence has been hidden from the gods, we believe that whoever poisoned you masked your existence. None of them could find you and I have a very special talent for tracking. Many who started the journey with me gave up once the Amazon camp was destroyed."
"Destroyed?" she whispered. "What of Hippolyta?"
"She was saved, but she was one of only a few. Nyx released the Kere when she discovered what had been done to you. They are gone. Hippolyta met her glory many years ago now; you have been gone for a very, very long time, Calie." She felt tears bring a fresh sting to her eyes, and avoided his gaze. He placed a long, cool finger beneath her chin, forcing her to look at him, her eyes glistening a brilliant sky blue in the dim lighting.
"Do not shed tears for them. They do not deserve your tears, my sweet Calie. I am your protector now. I will make sure you arrive in Pelusium safely. I would give my life for you, Caelus- Calie,” he said, his voice a whisper as he gathered her close.
"How long? How long have I been gone? Did they even mourn for me? Did my father mourn for his loss?" she asked, softly, her voice catching as she spoke into his bare chest. This close, she could detect a scent. He smelled of sand, water and desert air. And he felt good.
"He did. He has. They all did, and Nyx still does. But ..."
"How long, Karim?" she pleaded.
"It’s been over two hundred years," he said, stunning her speechless.
***
Celeste woke with a start, her heart thrumming in her chest. She looked around the suite and cursed under her breath. She needed to get out of here and go where she felt some semblance of normalcy. She needed to go home.
CHAPTER FOUR
When Lilith had come to this place, she had expected the staid and stately appearance of Jonas and Arbor Kent. She had known that the Collective themselves were a regal and reserved bunch, stodgy and buried in old-world sensibility. What she hadn't expected was the fire that had burned through the room when Celeste and Remy entered the small space.
Of course, Lilith had heard of the Caelestis. Who hadn't?
She was infamous, the goddess who'd defied even death, not once but time and time again. Her brutality in battle was as legendary as her beauty, but to see her in person was not at all what she'd expected of the storied Commander of the Grey. She'd blocked out the inane chatter around her, focusing on the task at hand. She was going to meet the Caelestis, it was something she had waited centuries to do.
When she'd entered, Lilith felt a wave of heat rush over her and her mouth went dry. She, as the others, rose to greet the new arrivals.
But unlike the others, she nervously wiped her sweaty palms on her pants and swallowed hard in anticipation of their introduction. She was going to be face to face with her in a matter of seconds.
She had seen Remy first, looking dapper in the grey wool coat and creased uniform, he was what she had known he would be. He was very pretty in a masculine way, with a swagger that oozed confidence. She had heard rumors about Remy and his proclivities; tales of debauched parties and brawls in dive bars had swirled around the youngest Kent son for as long as she could remember. He had bedded so many, that his prowess was somewhat legendary, yet all spoke fondly of the fun loving shifter.
Just one look in the direction of Arbor Kent, the current High Regent, and anyone could see that her only biological son was adored. He nodded towards his mother, but stayed close to Celeste's left side, a smile threatening to make his pretty face beautiful.
Celeste, on the other hand, was not at all what she expected. Sure, she knew that she was beautiful, but to see her in person was something she had only imagined. Celeste was striking, in that deep grey uniform, shedding the fur lined cloak with a natural ease that Lilith had practiced for years to achieve. Where Lilith was pale, almost sickly looking with her brilliant red hair, Celeste looked as if she lived in the sun. She was taller than Lilith had imagined, with a more curvaceous build, but her face was flawless. Her face was what caught her by surprise. She expected someone with stronger features, a fierce look of a warrior woman, not this pretty girl. That was it, she looked like a girl, not a storied, battle worn soldier. She looked more Vogue than Soldier of Fortune, with her perfectly coiffed hair and immaculate clothing. Celeste was not at all what she had expected and she was immediately enthralled by the woman.
Mark of the Fallen: A Fallen Novel Page 5
