Pure Requiem

by Aja James

  Let’s start with Cloud, the Valiant. A mysterious warrior of mixed Asian and Slavic heritage if I’m not mistaken. He specializes in distance combat with his long spear, his fighting style fluid and graceful. He seems to inflict maximum damage with minimal effort.

  He’s stared at me a few times with those strange, piercing blue eyes of his. From the information I’ve gathered about him, he has the Gift of very strong telepathy. To the point of mind control, or at least extreme persuasion. But aside from a slight headache, I remain unpersuaded by him. Perhaps it’s because my mind is not entirely…whole.

  He’s Mated to Aella, the Strategist. This seems to be a relatively recent event, because they can’t keep their hands off each other, and they’re not even paired together as training partners. But then, even I can feel the blast of heat from their mutual attraction and arousal, so perhaps their disgusting PDA is not just because of the honeymoon stage.

  Aella used to be an Amazon warrior. Tough as nails and sharper to boot. She has the added Gift of superhuman speed. She’s the one who identified me amongst hundreds of Medusa’s mind-controlled minions despite my disguise, chased me down on the back of a flying white dragon, and took me prisoner. There was nothing I could do. She hit me, the big bully! Bloodied my nose, loosened a tooth, and almost broke my cheekbone.

  I may have a slight crush on her for it. But I have enough sense of self-preservation to keep this on the down-low.

  Aella is often paired with Tristan, the Champion. If my sources are correct, he used to be a medieval knight. As such, he is the youngest (and therefore weakest) of the Elite warriors, though still formidable. He prefers weapons from that time period—axes, swords, hammers, spiked-ball flails—caveman instruments, in other words, while Aella typically wields weapons in both hands, like her chakrams and short and long daggers.

  Cloud is almost always paired with Valerius, the Protector. The warrior with the highest body count amongst the Elite. The one I tried to take down many years ago. Unsuccessfully, I might add. I accomplished my mission in other ways, however, not the least of which was putting a large dent into the Pure Queen, Sophia’s, trusted inner circle, both Elite warriors and Circlet members alike.

  This is why I told you up front: I’m no good.

  Because of me, the Pure Ones lost three of the Dozen from their original ranks. It’s amazing they haven’t executed or at least tortured me for my crimes by now. Idiot do-gooders.

  They’re missing one more, but I wasn’t directly involved in his capture. Credit for that belongs to Medusa’s other henchman and mad scientist—Wan’er. Except I suppose she’s been promoted to my second Mistress now. Which is yet another reason I’m not as eager as I should be to leave the Pure Ones’ hospitality.

  Back to Valerius. The silent, broody warrior was a Roman gladiator in his human life. He fights with precision and power, every move designed to kill, or maim, so that his opponent will stay down for the eventual kill. His favorite weapon is the chained scythe. It’s a thing of beauty. I’ve often fantasized about his using it to grant me a quick, painless death. But when have my dreams ever come true?

  Both Cloud and Valerius are distance fighters, which is why they are always paired up. Moreover, their abilities are several notches above even the two ancient Akkadians newly added to the Elite ranks (not including Tal-Telal)—Inanna and Gabriel.

  Though they’re both Dark Ones, the former Angel of Death and her human-turned-vampire Mate have decided to join the Pure Ones in recent years. Probably because Jade Cicada, the most powerful vampire queen in modern history, abdicated her throne to Mate the Pure Ones’ Consul, Seth Tremaine. And because Tal-Telal happens to be Inanna’s father, and he’s as Pure as they come.

  In fact, the General’s blood is what’s keeping me alive.

  I watch Tal-Telal more than anyone else. He’s blind and scarred (a condition that is almost impossible for an immortal, given our healing abilities; it’s physical proof of the unfathomable tortures the male endured at the hands of my Mistress for thousands of years), his body resembling that of an imperfect human, a casualty of war.

  But his will is perhaps the strongest of them all. He has a palpable aura of strength and conviction. Righteousness. Goodness. Selflessness.

  I’d use these adjectives as insults with any other being, and once upon a time, I used them derisively with him. But over the last few weeks, I’ve developed a strange kind of hero-worship of Tal-Telal. Maybe it’s the purity of his blood in my veins, encapsulating my Mistress’s venom and poison, neutralizing her effect on me.

  I feel…healed.

  Or healing. I can breathe easier. My mind doesn’t feel as fractured as before.

  I’m humbled by this male as I watch him hone his fighting skills with the human Chevalier. Sometimes, Inanna and Gabriel join the pair. He doesn’t hold back, and neither do his opponents, despite his disability. He fights like a seeing man, but he is still not as strong in body as the other immortals. They knock him down, bloody him up, but he never gives in.

  And everyday, he grows stronger, despite the countless new and old skirmish wounds. Everyday, his eyes shine brighter, even though they still swirl with milky clouds.

  Secretly, I cheer him on.

  Before you start thinking that I’m getting “soft,” let me remind you that it’s his blood flowing in my veins. It’s only natural that I want the source of my strength to become stronger.

  And then, yesterday, I did more than watch him. I decided to follow him out of the training hall. But I did it in the guise of his daughter Inanna, just to see what it’s like to live in one of the Pure Ones’ skins for a little while. (And because I finally kicked myself in the ass to get some nefarious infiltration going).

  Inanna and Gabriel had showered in the bath hall adjacent to the training room and left the area from a rear exit. I overheard them talking about taking Benjamin (my sunny, brilliant, beautiful son! Not that anyone knows it) out for ice-cream with Sophia. They wouldn’t be back for a couple hours at least, so I had a bit of time to play with, assuming Inanna’s identity.

  “Wait for me, papa,” I called out to the General in Inanna’s sultry voice, lengthening my strides to catch up to him. “Where are you headed? Perhaps I can join you.”

  The warrior stopped but didn’t turn around, his back and shoulders stiffening subtly.

  I wouldn’t have caught it if I hadn’t been watching him so closely, but I’m extremely sensitive to everything Tal-Telal. I thought for a panicked moment that he somehow discovered my ploy.

  But then he turned his head to the side and said, “I am meeting Rain for my weekly health check. It will not be very interesting, but you are welcome to join.”

  I came abreast of him and took one of his arms with both of mine, the way I’d seen Inanna do, leaning slightly into him in a gesture of affection and support.

  “Of course I want to come, papa. I want to hear for myself how much better you’re getting.”

  His head still turned in my direction, his blind eyes scanned me up and down as if he could actually see me. He didn’t say anything as we started walking together down the corridors toward the healing chamber, but he briefly squeezed my hand on his arm with his.

  I barely restrained a shudder of pleasure from coursing through my body at that small token of affection. It was nothing but a little squeeze, a slight touch. Tal-Telal doesn’t like to touch others, and doesn’t like to be touched, except by his daughter, his Mate (of whom I have yet to catch a glimpse) and Benjamin. But that quick squeeze of his hand conveyed such unconditional love that I burned with envy of Inanna.

  If only this pretense could be real. If only someone as beautiful inside-out as Tal-Telal could love me too. The real me under my innumerable disguises.

  And then I clamped my teeth together and told myself to cut that useless dreaming shit right out.

  We didn’t chitchat as we walked together down the corridors to the healing chamber. I was still reeling from my ch
urning emotions, and the General had never been a chatterbox. The silence was somehow soothing, not in the least awkward. I leaned closer into his side and laid my head upon his shoulder, involuntarily sighing with contentment.

  He smells so good, this male. Comforting. Safe. True. I feel…protected whenever I’m near him.

  Soon, we arrived at the Healer, Rain’s, formal chambers. Though she no longer possesses the Gift she used to have as the most powerful healer in the history of the Pure Ones, she is still extremely effective at what she does. At the very least, she retained the Gift of her zhen, the individual living strands of her hair—the same confounding instruments that constructed my silken prison when I first arrived at the Shield.

  Besides the long, white-diamond hair that trails halfway to the back of her knees, she has paper-white skin, and the only color on her face are the sleek black eyebrows, exotic dark eyes and small red mouth. She’s always looked like a Japanese kabuki doll to me. So unnerving.

  I didn’t suppress the shudder that went through me this time upon seeing her. Ugh.

  “Are you all right, my child?” Tal-Telal asked quietly.

  I couldn’t help a beaming smile at his phrase “my child.”

  “Just a little chilly, papa,” I answered, relishing more than I should how I got to call him that, how easily it flowed from my evil, forked tongue.

  His full lips curved slightly in that sexy quirk, what I call the squirk. I have one just like it, but nowhere near as charismatic.

  “Hmm. I sensed perhaps that you’re a little intimidated by Rain.”

  How does he know these things!

  “Just between you and me,” I whispered conspiratorially, “she is just a tiny bit frightening. Don’t you think she looks like one of those Japanese anime succubus characters? Or some kind of tentacle-haired alien? She’s so…creepy.”

  A silent rumble of laughter shook through the General’s body, and my heart soared inexplicably at giving him joy.

  “Behave yourself,” he admonished with a straight face, though the corner of his lips still twitched. “Here she comes.”

  “Good afternoon, Tal,” the Healer greeted graciously, her manners always exquisite.

  She turned and smiled at me. “Good afternoon, Inanna. I am glad you are able to accompany your father, though I must say I am surprised that Tal allows it. He never has before.”

  Truly? I peered at the General and blinked with surprise myself. Why wouldn’t he want his family around him for support? If I had a family, I think I’d want that. But what do I know?

  And then, I understood immediately, intuitively.

  Tal-Telal is the sort of male who always carries his burdens alone. It’s his way of protecting others, even if it cost himself dearly.

  As if he felt my gaze on him, he turned his face slightly away, giving me the determined, steely cut of his profile, his jaw clenching almost imperceptibly.

  “Thank you for letting me come with you, papa,” I whispered so that only he could hear.

  At first, I thought he’d ignore my words. But he surprised me again.

  “Sometimes, it’s good to share our pain, child,” he rumbled in that husky, raspy deep voice. “It’s never easy, but…I’m beginning to learn how to heal.”

  My eyes pooled with tears unbidden, and I blinked rapidly to disperse them. It must be Inanna’s form—this blasted female form—it must be the hormones acting up in this body that wasn’t mine. That’s what I blamed for the stupid water in my eyes.

  “Come sit down,” Rain directed with a sweep of her arm, indicating the flat padded surface of the types of beds you see in hospitals, except much more spacious and comfortable looking.

  “Please remove your clothes.”

  The General stripped almost entirely naked but for black briefs and sat on the table. The Healer efficiently went about routine checks with various modern medical instruments while I stood to the side watching silently, my heart throbbing painfully in my chest.

  Gods! The scars on this male’s body.

  I’d seen it all before, but never this closely. And the last time that I did, I hadn’t felt this way. I’d watched Ishtar Anshar, my Mistress’s sister, almost kill Medusa after she tortured the General again, the way she always tortured him, right before Ishtar’s very eyes. I saw it all.

  But back then, I only watched with morbid curiosity. The male was nothing to me. I didn’t give a fuck.

  Now…

  I’ve never seen an immortal as scarred as he is.

  Though his skin was mostly smooth, there were still some raised ridges and craters, from the deepest, most persistent wounds that the Mistress must have carved into his body repeatedly over endless hours, days and years. The somewhat lesser wounds (and by that I mean the ones that were only repeated a few thousand times instead of a few hundred thousand times) had faded to blue, purple, green and black lines and bruises, as if he’d been drawn on with light-colored markers.

  His body was leanly muscular, but not a leanness with youthful bounce like all other immortals no matter their age. There’s no give in his steel-like muscles and the paper-thin skin that wrapped over his body. He seemed at once indestructible and incredibly fragile, his blind eyes downcast, a muscle in his jaw ticking.

  He hated this, I knew. Hated that anyone saw him like this, even the Healer, and now me. I didn’t know how I knew, maybe because I have scars too, though they’re less visible than his.

  For some stupid reason, I blurted, “I can’t decide if you look like a Jackson Pollock painting or one of Benji’s scribbles.”

  Startled, both Rain and the General looked at me.

  I cocked my head a bit and made a point of scrutinizing Tal Telal’s body thoughtfully.

  “There’s a certain symmetry as well as randomness in the lines. It’s actually quite…beautiful, despite the ugliness that created them. When I look at you, I see colors, and the world pales to gray. You’re a work of art, papa.”

  I looked back into his cloudy turquoise eyes, holding my breath for his reaction, fearful that I’d gone too far.

  For an eternity of heartbeats, the silence in the chamber deafened. Even Rain had frozen, her eyes round with doubt and worry.

  I take it no one had spoken of his scars in such a flippant manner before, making light of something indescribably dark and awful. Every scar pulsed with the memory of the excruciating agony he endured, obscene and unending. And yet, they were also a physical testament to his unconquerable, awe-inspiring strength.

  And then I saw it: a corner of his mouth slowly curved up in that gorgeous, heart-palpitating squirk.

  Holy gods, how I love this heroic male with all my twisted, black heart!

  Chapter Two: It’s Time That I Told You

  *TAL*

  When I look at you, I see colors…

  How could such simple words have such a powerful impact?

  For the first time since I’d…acquired these scars, I didn’t feel shame at the weight of another’s eyes. Even Ishtar, my Mate, my love, hadn’t been able to fill me with such light.

  But his words—my binu’s words—they lifted my soul, just as easily as his irreverent humor lifted my mouth in a curve that showed I still knew how to smile. Even though I feared I’d forgotten long ago.

  “Your outer scars, what is the level of pain from one to ten?” the Healer asked softly, her hands barely glancing across my skin as she diligently conducted her assessment.

  “Five,” I answered, though it was closer to seven on my own internal scale. But I was used to it. I was able to ignore the pulsing pain beneath my skin most of the time.

  “That’s two points better than when you joined us a few weeks ago,” Rain mused, a note of cautious optimism in her voice, as well as skepticism. “I hope you’re not underestimating just to shorten this visit, warrior.”

  I didn’t respond. I was often guilty of underestimating, “downplaying,” as modern humans would say, but I was mostly telling the truth this t
ime. I didn’t want to lie in front of my son. I wanted to set an example for him. I wanted him to trust enough to share his pain as well.

  Yes, I know he’s my son. I’ve known it for a while now, even before Rain performed the human test to match our “DNA.”

  When he first came to my Mate’s shop, Dark Dreams, I had known immediately that he was special.

  Because I am blind, everyone assumes I can’t see. In turn, they often don’t see me.

  I was able to observe him from a distance; he barely took notice of me, his focus on the shining light of my Mate. I certainly understood the attraction.

  She is Ishtar Anshar, after all, heaven’s brightest star.

  I didn’t know then who he was to me, but I was intrigued. And when he came back in a different form, according to those with seeing eyes, I could tell he was the same person inside. I could feel the same resonance of his soul reaching out to mine.

  Occasionally, he watched me, always in disguise. Always from afar. When I went on my walkabouts, when the pain inside was too great to bear, I always felt his presence in the periphery. And somehow, it had been comforting, as if I was sharing my burden with someone who, if not cared, then at least understood.

  This time, when Inanna brought him back to the Shield, I knew without a doubt who he was: the son I never knew existed until only recently, since I was reunited with my love after millennia apart.

  I could feel his heartbeat within my heart. The throbbing pain of his soul within my soul.

  I wanted desperately to heal him.

  “And the pain inside your body?” the Healer said in an even lower voice, barely a whisper beside my ear, trying to preserve the secrecy of my private shame.

  I swallowed before I licked my lips and answered.

  “Eight.”

  It was a blatant lie. On a scale of one to ten, the stabbing pain in my internal organs, muscles, tissues, and especially…below…that agony was over a hundred. A burning, scathing, never-ending corrosion within, where Medusa had torn me apart cell by cell.