Romance with a Bite

by Tamsin Baker

  “We’ll make it work,” Cassie continued, “because we love each other. We’ll make Harrow our home base, although Daniel will keep his apartment in the city for when he has business in town. He has already learned he can maintain his writing career here, as long as he has a good internet connection.”

  There was a brief silence while the women absorbed this information, each casting sideways looks at the others to judge their reactions.

  “But will you be here during the important times of the year and to lead the ceremonies?” Marnie asked. “The library won’t like it if you go gallivanting around the world with Daniel.”

  “I might not be at the library for more than a few months. When I was in California, I found a market for my tinctures. I hope to develop a small export business and that will give me the flexibility I want.”

  “Good on yer girl,” Marnie said. “Maybe they’ll want some native products as well.”

  Cassie flicked her a quick smile of acknowledgement. “There’s something else I need to tell you all.” Eyes riveted back to her. Cassie breathed in through her nose and exhaled slowly before she spoke again. “I’m pregnant. I’m expecting a baby.”

  Rosie spoke first. “That’s wonderful news, Cassie. Are you having a boy or a girl? Do you know yet?”

  “I don’t know, and I’ve decided not to find out before delivery. It really doesn’t matter. Even if I did know, I don’t think I’d tell anyone.”

  “Quite right, too,” Rowena said, giving the others a look of her own. “And nobody is to pressure Cassie about this. I know you’ll all support her during this happy time.”

  They did. Even Carmel lumbered over and gave her a hug. It wasn’t the most comfortable experience, but Cassie accepted it in the spirit in which it was offered. As she took her leave shortly after, claiming residual jet lag and tiredness, she embraced Rowena at the door.

  “Thank you. Thank you for having my back,” she whispered into the other woman’s shoulder. “You’ve no idea how much that means to me.”

  The arms about her tightened in response.

  ☐

  “But you’ll still marry me?” Daniel found the handfasting concept to be confusing.

  “Sure, I will. Think of this as a form of betrothal. We don’t have time to organise a full-scale wedding before the thirty first of October anyway, so we’ll have the handfasting this year, and in one year’s time, we’ll honour the promises made to each other in the form of a legal ceremony.”

  “But does it have to be on that date?”

  “It doesn’t have to be, but, that’s the date of Beltane, the time when lovers make their commitment to each other. This is a time for us. Just us.”

  They were sitting on his deck, watching the progression of the evening sky with a warm cup of tea in hand. Cassie had dropped in after work and Daniel was happy to have a break from his writing. He liked it even more when she leaned towards him, placing her hand possessively on his thigh. He eyed her mouth, admiring the fullness of her lower lip, almost distracted from what she was saying.

  “Do you mind if I choose the location?” she asked. “There’s a place that’s rather special to me.”

  If it’s the one I’m thinking of, it’s rather special to me too. “Of course not. You’re the one with local knowledge. I’ll follow your lead.” A sudden thought occurred to him. “What do we wear?”

  She gave him a bemused look. “I’ll probably wear a ceremonial robe, but you can wear whatever makes you comfortable. This is about our commitment to each other, not our clothing.”

  He tried to hide the relief in his voice. “Yes, of course. Couldn’t agree more.”

  “It will be a private ceremony, but if you don’t object, I’d like to ask Rowena to take the celebrant role. It would mean so much to me to have her there. She’s been like a mother to me.”

  He reached across the short space separating them and kissed her, teasing her lower lip with his teeth and savouring the taste of mint tea. “Sounds perfect to me.”

  ☐

  Before the first hint of dawn, Rowena cast a circle of rose petals in a wide circle around the stone. She had already arranged the cord, the honey mead, flask of salt water, and other ceremonial implements on the stone. She checked she had everything she required, and then turned to watch the approaching couple. Her heart swelled with maternal pride as she observed her niece. She loved Cassie as if she had been her own daughter.

  Daniel and Cassie halted at the outer rim of the petals. The first rays edged over the horizon as Rowena approached them and poured a little of the salt water over their hands.

  “I hereby cleanse you and wash away the burdens of your everyday life so you may focus on your commitment made before me and the Goddess.”

  She lifted a staff lying at the edge of the circle, opening the doorway to the sacred space. After they stepped forward into the circle, she closed it again. They stood, hand in hand, and exchanged a quick look of complicit anticipation before turning to focus on Rowena. Throwing both arms skywards, she invited the Great Powers to be present within the circle, and then led them through a series of rituals of commitment.

  The cord on the altar stone had been braided the evening before by Daniel and Cassie, using the colours representing the triple Goddess. Rowena picked up the cord and instructing them to link their left hands, bound their hands together with the cord.

  “As you join hands so your lives are joined, holding each other, loving each other.”

  Still with their hands bound and facing each other, first Daniel and then Cassie repeated their vows. Cassie could hardly speak through the smile of pure joy that threatened to split her face in two.

  “I, Cassie Craven, take you, Daniel,

  To be my life partner,

  To walk, run, and dance this new path,

  On our sacred journey together.

  I swear before the Goddess

  To love you and care for you

  From this day and all days to come.”

  With her hand resting lightly on theirs, Rowena delivered words of advice and recognition.

  “Gentle are the bonds of the union.

  Pull one way and the bonds are strengthened.

  Pull the other and they are loosened.

  There are Rites of Passage that still lie ahead,

  But never again need you face them alone.

  Thus your hands are fastened in symbolic commitment.”

  She then asked Cassie and Daniel to release their hands, and without untying the knot in the cord, she slipped it inside a drawstring bag brought for that purpose. With the bag drawn closed, it contained within it the symbol of their relationship and the powers that bound them together.

  “Cassie and Daniel—in light of your promises made to each other and before the Gods and Goddesses, I declare you to be partners for as long as your love shall last. The cords are removed, but the union of your hearts and spirits remains. Blessed Be.”

  Daylight was now well established. The soft morning light tipped the edge of the clearing and bathed them both in a golden glow. It seemed to Rowena that a glow just as strong emerged from within.

  As Daniel turned to kiss his betrothed, a movement at the corner of her eye caught Rowena’s attention. Looking more closely, she saw someone standing in the protection of the trees at the edge of the clearing, his long cloak sweeping the tufts of grass at his feet. He raised a hand in recognition and greeting and then as the air shimmered around him, disappeared. A brown boobook owl rose from the ground and disappeared into the tree canopy.

  The couple paused as Rowena opened the circle again, then stepped outside and into their new lives together. Pausing at the outer rim to exchange yet another kiss, they turned and hand in hand, strolled off into the new day.

  ☐

  The Boobook

  The boobook owl, also known colloquially as the mopoke, is an Australian native bird. They are nocturnal birds, with a whitish or speckled underbelly, and brown speckle
d feathers on the wings and body. They also have dark brown facial disks.

  The call of the bird is very distinctive. Even in suburban areas near my home in Adelaide, the two-toned mo-poke call can be heard at night. A mopoke frequents the park across from my home, but I have never been able to see it. The call is reassuring that all is well with the world, within the park at least.

  Emily Hussey

  Emily Hussey is an Australian writer, dividing her time between her home base of Adelaide and Melbourne where she currently works. She has a choice of writing at home, with the company of her little black cat, who insists on providing keyboard help, or in one of the local cafés, for which Melbourne is famous.

  She predominant writes in the contemporary genre, but has really enjoyed this diversion into magical realism. Stay tuned for further books in the Harrow Series. If you’d like to be informed when subsequent books are released, you can opt to receive her newsletter at https://mailchi.mp/0c89b4cbdd91/get-it. You’ll also receive a copy of Romance in the Stone as a welcome read.

  She also loves to hear from her readers. You can contact her at emily@emilyhussey.com.au.

  The Vampire's Mate

  Josie Caporetto

  Prologue

  ROME 79 BC Zev

  “Ave, Caesar, morituri te salutant. Ave , Cesare, those who are about to die greet you.” As tradition demanded, all gladiators greeted the emperor before each fight.

  Tenebris had no inclination to die, this was his last fight. Finally, after so many years of being a slave, he had collected enough denarii to purchase his freedom. He bowed his head to the emperor. It was common knowledge he was the emperor’s favourite gladiator. Just as he was of the people of Rome.

  Nine years of slavery had been more than enough. He was ready to lay to rest his sword, and his gladiator persona of Tenebris. Zev Akoli was ready to return to his beloved Africa. But first, he would have to survive this last fight.

  Battling other gladiators never been a problem for Zev, but fighting animals was. Venation were not his favourite matches, but like the ferocious lions, he had no choice. Survival was at stake here.

  “Asa, strong Lord, have mercy on me and help me survive the impossible,” he whispered under his breath.

  He walked toward the middle of the arena, then stopped, legs apart. In one hand a sword, the other, a metal glove holding a thick roped net. Bowing his head towards the emperor, he then turned to acknowledge the people of Rome.

  The yells and screams of the people rang in his ears. Death had become the form of entertainment that patricians, plebeians and slaves enjoyed but he would have to block it out if he was going to survive. The rusted underground gates opened, and the combination of short roar-growls emanating from beyond was almost impressive.

  Gaius Baebia, his dominus, wasn’t going to make his freedom easy. He looked at the ten lions, all hungry, huffing and snorting. Holding a tight grip on the rope, he raised his sword towards the sky. He was now in the hands of Asa, and of the lions.

  He watched them one by one as they all elegantly come out of their cages. He was ready, even if the lions would make a feast out of him. The metal glove would increase the cutting and bleeding of the animals, and assure their death but the thought of killing the lions gave him a suffocating and heavy pain on his chest. He couldn’t afford to feel guilty for more than a moment. That would assure his quick fall.

  As he stood ready with his weapons, the excited crowd cheered loudly in anticipation. He watched the lions circling each other, and with his forearm, swiped at the hot sweat trickling down his brows under the hot, Roman sun. As the lions prowled for the attack, definitely hungry, Zev raised his net, bringing with it a storm of dust. Lions and gladiator had the same objective—to trap and kill the opponent. But he knew that he had to entertain the crowd. He couldn’t go for the kill quickly. The longer the fight, the happier the crowd. If he survived, he would be paid and buy his freedom that very same day. But if the fight was epic, and lasted a few hours, he would get paid extra denarii and he could start a life of his own.

  The scorching sun high in the Roman skies was burning his dark skin, giving him acute pain on his shoulders and face. Though the match hadn’t started, the sweat on his back was dripping down to his waist. His determination to come out this alive would give him strength.

  He had no intention of losing sight of the hungry lions as they started stalking their prey.

  Him.

  They were circling him about thirty meters apart. He moved constantly, knowing that showing his back to any of them would give them the freedom to attack. Growing up in Africa, he had watched many times how the lions would observe their prey before ambushing. Zev jumped quickly towards the first lion, throwing the net over one ferocious beast, skilfully piercing its spine with his long blade. He twisted the blade, making sure the blow was fatal.

  One dead. Another nine to go. Normally the cheers of the spectators would make adrenaline rush through his body, but not today. His plan was very clear in his mind. Finally, after tonight, he would be a free man. Free to decide what path to take in life. He would work for his Dominus as a gladiator trainer. One year’s employment would provide enough money to buy the freedom of his beloved Hosidia. Then he would take her with him to his Africa.

  He was grateful to God Asa that once he had his papyrus signed, he would no longer be obligated to pleasure the wealthy, bored wives and widows of the Romans. He would devote his life to his own, sweet and innocent Hosidia.

  Then Segana crept into his mind. Always dressed in black, pale skin, long nails and wild hair. She was one of the high priestesses of Rome, but her eyes were empty, her soul dark as the hole of Hell and she always requested him for her carnal pleasures. A shiver ran through him, and for a moment he lost his concentration.

  One of the lions launched at him. Zev bowed down, but that didn’t prevent the ferocious animal from scratching his already sweating back. He needed to focus on his survival. The oohs of the crowd rang in his ears, but Zev preferred cheering. Focusing on his adversaries, he sprang and landed near one of the lions, slashing him with his iron glove, opening his back. The lion roared in pain, the sword plunged in from the side.

  The crowd chanted his name.

  Sweat flooded from every pore. He needed to get out of there alive. Breathing heavily, he made his way towards the third lion, but as he was about to leap at him, another lion jumped. Quickly, he raised his sword and sliced the lion’s throat. Turning swiftly, he perforated the side of the other lion.

  He knew he shouldn’t give them opportunities to strike above his chest. He intended to keep his intestines inside his body and get out of there in one piece. The remainder of the fight passed in a haze, his focus on the roaring animals and on his survival. Between sword, rope and steel glove he managed to slay all ten lions. He was exhausted, but relieved.

  In a few hours the papyrus would be signed, sealed, and hand-delivered to him by the emperor.

  The people of Rome were still cheering but he knew his duties were not yet over. He was bleeding from the gashes the lions had given him—the blood of a gladiator was highly valuable in Rome—and his dominus always shared his denarii with him.

  He also knew his beloved Hosidia would be waiting at their meeting place to treat all his wounds. He hoped he had enough blood to share to make a few extra denarii. But first things first.

  He walked to stand in front of the emperor, bringing his right fist to his heart and bowing his head in reverence. He stood still until he was given permission to move.

  “Salutant vos victor Romam confitebitur tibi. Greeting to you, winner, Rome gives you thanks.”

  At those words, he raised his face towards the emperor saying, “Ut beneficio meo semper vobiscum et cum imperator Romam. My gratitude will always be with you my emperor, and with Rome.”

  ROME 79 BC Hosidia

  Hosidia had scrubbed the tripod and pots so many times they were shining. So were her knuckles. Her fear of losing Ze
v made her crazy. She was aware that he was the most beloved gladiator not only on the arena, but also with the women who used him for their pleasure.

  But her biggest fear was of this last battle, the battle of his life.

  When she was told by her dominus’ wife that his last match was with ten lions, she wasn’t sure he would survive. No one ever had.

  She waited in the dark kitchen. Someone would come to give her news of the outcome. She prayed it was good news, but only the gods would know his fate. She looked again inside her terracotta pot at all the herbs she’d need to tend to Zev’s wounds.

  “He won. Zev slayed all the lions!” The news came from the boys running towards her.

  Hosidia grabbed her pot of medicinal herbs and rushed to the usual spot where she would meet Zev.

  Her gladiator was alive. She nearly tumbled to the ground as she went towards him, her legs wavering from the strong emotion.

  He was there, tall and proud. Though it was dark, she could see his silhouette under the moonlight. He must have heard her coming, as he turned around and opened his arms, and she ran into them. Although his worst wounds had been tended to, the deepest cuts would still be bleeding until she gave them her attention.

  “I’ve been praying the gods to send you back to me,” she whispered, moving away from his embrace.

  “And I to you.” He took a few steps back from her. “Let me look at you under the moonlight, my beautiful and sweet lady.”

  “Sit here, my gladiator. Let me tend to your wounds.” She led him by the hand to a big rock, then crushed fennel with a few drops of water. Once she was happy with the result, she poured the thick liquid into a terracotta cup and handed to him.