by Aja James
Her Little Star.
For a long while after the great feline beast freed the prisoner and carried him out of the darkened basement, the Creature remained motionless and silent in its hiding place.
Considering.
This was the perfect opportunity to leave the Mistress to her own devices. Perhaps she’d survive her wounds, perhaps she wouldn’t.
In her current state, without assistance, she might not even be able to fend off the humans who would eventually come back to the estate. Even if they didn’t harm her further, there would be questions.
Like why was a strange, eyeball-less woman with a shredded face and a hole in her heart lying with eight piles of ashes in the cellar?
As cunning as the Mistress was, she’d likely figure something out and have the humans eating out of her hands in no time.
Or.
The Creature could easily put the Mistress out of her misery. And its own as well.
Its time with her had not been what one would call…pleasant.
Though she never hurt the Creature directly, the way she meticulously tortured the General, she had been the cause of much of its suffering—or, in her words, its “education”—over the many millennia that it had served her.
It was what it was because of her.
It also owed its life to her.
Sounds of a vehicle arriving above ground outside, doors opening and closing, and after a short while, its speedy departure, reached the Creature’s ears.
The Pure Ones were certainly resourceful, the Creature thought. No doubt that was the search party coming to rescue the Mistress’s “guests” from their violent reunion. They’d arrived a bit late to join the fun, however.
The Creature, for one, wasn’t sorry.
If the Pure Ones had arrived earlier, it might have missed the awesome display of Ishtar Anshar transforming into the giant snow leopard. A fabled beast the Creature had heard about through oral myths passed from one generation to the next.
It looked exactly like the one carved into the handle of the sandalwood comb in the Creature’s possession, a serendipitous gift it received from a sweet old lady who owned an all-things shop in Brooklyn, New York.
An hour or more passed in silence, until night made way for dawn.
The Creature finally left the shadows and came forth, standing over the Mistress’s shivering, barely gasping form.
For all its depravities and ugliness, all the violence and chaos it had a hand in orchestrating, all the death and destruction it incited, it had never killed before.
It knelt down and reached out its long fingered hands to wrap around the Mistress’s throat.
Tentatively, it squeezed.
Then with more pressure. Until it felt her pulse struggling within its grasp like a baby bird beating its fragile wings.
Abruptly, it released her.
Then it gathered her wreckage of a body in its arms and carried her to safety.
To plot another day.
“The Great White Beast protects the White Star and all she hath, for the White Star illuminates the Dark Ones’ path. She shall bear fruit from her beloved Mate, and together they shall rewrite both history and Fate.”
—From the Ecliptic Prophesies, buried and forgotten
Chapter Eighteen
Tal slowly raised his eyelids.
Darkness greeted him.
But unlike the completely lightless pitch black he was used to seeing, there was a faint glow around the edges of his vision, like a solar eclipse.
“How are you feeling, papa?”
Tal tried to sit up and was glad for Inanna’s strong hands coming to his aid. Given that he felt like raw meat left out to rot in the hot summer sun, his pride had none of his sympathy right now—he could use all the help he could get.
“Where’s Ishtar?” he rasped out the first thing, the only thing, on his heart and mind and didn’t see Inanna’s smile at his question.
“She’s very well. She’s out walking with Benji and Sophia in her kitten form, masquerading as a large but totally harmless and adorable house cat,” Inanna reported.
“They even put a blue ribbon around her neck that we retrieved from her shop in Brooklyn, along with a few of her other belongings, since she’s staying here until you are fully recovered.”
Tal frowned. Just how long had he been unconscious?
“A few days,” Inanna answered the question he didn’t realize he’d asked out loud.
“You were in really bad shape when we found you both in Baltimore,” she said quietly.
Then she took a deep breath and said with more cheer, “Ishtar saved the day before we even got there. I’m impressed.”
Tal searched his memories but couldn’t recall any of the battle.
“How did she do it?”
“She said she took care of things in her giant leopard form,” Inanna replied with some awe, “but to date she hasn’t let me see it. If it’s just a larger version of her kitten form, I’m not sure how threatening she would have been—at least in appearances.”
“But how did she save me?” Tal persisted. The last memory he had was of…dying.
Literally dying. As his soul readied to depart his too broken body.
“Well,” his usually forthcoming daughter hedged, “I’ll leave the answering of that to Ishtar.”
Deftly, she changed topics, “Do you feel well enough to rise and wash up? We’re all gathering together this evening for supper if you’re up to it.”
So Tal spent an inordinate amount of time cleaning and dressing himself, given his blindness and the soreness he still felt everywhere.
After that, he was visited by Rain and Ava, who informed him that he was recovering nicely, his wounds healing at the expected rate. They didn’t talk about his eyes and he didn’t ask, but it was implied that all of his wounds would eventually heal now that all traces of Anunit’s blood and venom had been removed from his system.
And then he was visited by various other residents of the Shield, none of whom stayed long, as if understanding his private nature, but long enough to have him appreciate their support and comradery.
And something else too.
It was as if everyone was congratulating him or preparing him for something worth congratulating that was about to occur.
But as thankful as Tal was to have such friends around him, all he really wanted was Ishtar. He hadn’t caught even a whiff of her since he’d awoken.
“Papa,” Inanna said when she came later in the evening to escort him to the supper, “you’re not going to wear that, are you?”
As Tal could not see what was wrong with his attire, given that he couldn’t see the attire itself, he merely gazed sightlessly back at her. Everything in his wardrobe was black, and the variety of cuts for his shirts and pants was minimal.
“I thought you could wear this one,” Inanna said, laying something out on his bed. “The trousers are white and it goes with a long white robe tied at the waist.”
It sounded like the type of attire Pure Ones wore to ceremonial gatherings or important social functions.
“Is Sophia hosting an important event?” Tal asked.
He should be calling her his Queen, but he hadn’t gotten used to it. Sophia was still just a child in so many ways. In his mind, Ninti was the Pure Queen, though the Pure Ones’ Seer and temporary Scribe, Eveline, had told him that she’d died a long time ago.
Sophia, in some sense, was supposed to be Ninti’s reincarnation. But of course, no one was the same once reincarnated. Sophia would always be herself, just as Gabriel would always be Gabriel, though he had also been Alad in his previous life.
“You could say that,” Inanna hedged again, back turned while Tal changed into the clothes she laid out.
“Will I do?”
Inanna turned around and whistled low.
“I have one extremely magnificent papa,” she surmised proudly. “If you weren’t already taken, I might have to beat off the
females with a stick.”
Tal gave a disbelieving shake of his head, shrugging off the compliment. Inanna had a penchant for teasing him.
“The scars will show,” he said quietly.
Though the robe covered his shoulders, arms and most of his chest when tied, the marks on his upper chest and neck could still be seen. He didn’t want to draw any more attention to himself than necessary. He certainly didn’t want to incite others’ pity at his injuries.
She put her hand on his forearm as she came to his side.
“You’re the legendary General, papa, of course you’ll be battle worn with badges of honor,” she said solemnly, even though they both knew these scars he carried had not been received on any battlefield.
“Come,” she urged, gently tugging on his arm, “we don’t want to be late.”
The halls were strangely silent as Tal and Inanna made their way to what he supposed would be the grand atrium where large gatherings were held whenever Sophia’s court needed to come together en masse.
Usually, there would be everyday noises as he walked through the Shield—doors opening and closing, someone passing by with a greeting—but this evening, everything was quiet.
Had all the others gathered for supper already?
As they rode together in the elevator that took them to the floors above, they took longer than the eight seconds Tal normally counted to get to the atrium. In which case, they must be going to a higher floor.
When they exited the elevator and walked through another set of doors, a temperate summer night embraced Tal, sifting through his robes with a light, fresh breeze.
They must be on the skyscraper’s rooftop then.
Tal stopped walking, taking a moment to get his bearings.
He came often to the rooftop terrace when he’d been convalescing after he first arrived at the Shield, before Rain allowed him to leave the premises given his condition. He knew the layout very well.
Now, his heightened senses told him that there was something different about the terrace tonight.
He could feel flickers of warmth mingled with the breeze, not from the summer air itself but something else—like torches, or candles.
Though there were no voices, he could hear the collective breathing of the residents of the Shield gathered there. He and Inanna were the last to arrive.
He knew without seeing that they were the center of attention. He could feel all eyes on them, and the hairs raised on the back of his neck with electric awareness.
“She’s coming to you, papa,” Inanna said beside him, letting go of his arm.
“Wait here.”
She kissed his cheek and walked away, leaving Tal to stand by himself a few yards away from the group.
For seemingly endless moments, though it was probably only a few, he stood alone. Although he knew himself to be among friends and family, he couldn’t help the flush of vulnerability that washed over him.
And then he scented her, the unique combination of lily and pear blossoms entwined with starlight and feminine musk.
Innocent yet passionate. Soothing yet wild.
His heart accelerated as his breaths shortened.
It felt like ages since he’d held her, kissed her. He wished they were alone so that he could lose himself in her. His need for her nigh overwhelmed him.
It seemed like he’d been waiting forever for her to come to him.
She stopped not a foot in front of him; he could feel the animal heat from her body, several degrees hotter than a typical vampire’s, which was in turn hotter than humans and Pure Ones’.
Why didn’t she touch him? Why was she holding herself back?
“Ninigiku of my heart,” Ishtar said in that low, warm voice, halfway between a purr and a growl, “I have a request to ask of you. Will you hear me out and consider fully before you answer?”
He took a half step toward her, pulled by the hesitation in her voice. He’d do anything for her, surely she knew that.
“Please,” she said, stopping him, “let me say what I have to say.”
For many moments, she was silent, and he could feel her gazing at him intently, searching for what he knew not.
Why wouldn’t she touch him? Why wouldn’t she hold him? He ached so badly for her he could barely keep himself in check.
“I loved you from the first time I looked into your beautiful eyes, Tal-Telal,” she began in that same low voice, “before I even understood what love truly meant.”
His breath hitched in his throat.
“I loved you with a young girl’s fiery, selfish heart when I saw you again, when I Claimed you for my very own.”
She lowered her voice to a husky whisper.
“I never knew what it cost you to befriend me in the beginning, and I never knew what it cost you to live as my Blood Slave. How much it hurt you, not just the physical pain, but how it broke your heart.”
He swallowed thickly.
“I don’t think I will ever know fully how you suffered inside, all the pain and turmoil you kept locked within yourself, everything you sacrificed to be with me. And all the horrors you endured to keep me safe.”
He shook his head and clenched his jaw against the tears that were threatening behind his eyes.
It didn’t matter anymore, he wanted to tell her. Nothing mattered but her.
He heard her go down on her knees before him, felt her hands gently untie his robe and part it. He shuddered all over when she stroked feather-light fingers along the Blood Slave brand on his lower abdomen.
And then he felt her lips kiss along each one, her tongue licking the ridges of the scars—and something else.
Tears.
The sharp, stinging pain of the salt from her tears rubbing into his wounds as she licked them closed with her tongue. Followed by the press of something scorching hot against his flesh.
Tal hissed in a breath through his teeth at the singeing burn, his stomach tensing into iron ridges.
But he didn’t move away from her as she wrought this pain upon him; he trusted her unconditionally.
His trust was rewarded with her next words.
“I release you, Tal-Telal,” she murmured. “You are free from my Claim and anyone else’s. You are free.”
His heart thumped faster, hammering frantically within its cage. His breaths gusted from his chest as his blood soared through his veins, infusing him with a strength he’d never felt before. Beads of sweat popped out all over his skin as his muscles and sinew swelled with newfound energy and strength.
Slowly, she rose to her feet and took one step back, then another, until she was out of arm’s length reach.
“And now I come to my request,” she said softly, her voice shy and uncertain.
He tried to find her with his sightless eyes. He focused all of his senses on “seeing” her.
“I love you, Tal,” she stated clearly with absolute conviction.
“I love you with my bruised and battered, full-blooded female heart. I don’t deserve you, and perhaps I never will. But I want to spend the rest of my life learning you, holding you. Loving you.”
She extended a hand towards him, palm up.
“Will you let me, Tal? Will you be my Mate?”
The tears finally fell from his blind, shimmering eyes.
He let them roll down his cheeks unchecked, for they were tears of joy and he was not ashamed to shed them.
He took a step toward her and then another. Unerringly, he reached out and grasped her hand.
With a gentle tug, he pulled her to him until they were chest to chest, and he enfolded her at last in his embrace.
“Yes,” he answered solemnly, his voice deep and husky, as he gazed down into her glowing visage.
“I love you, ana Ishtar,” he rasped low and gruff.
“Always you. Only you. Arammu, mi shi.” My love, breath of my life, my soul.
“Oh good,” she said, her face relaxing in relief, her arms tightening around the small of his bac
k in a bone-creaking hug, “because I already sort of tied us together for the rest of eternity as Blooded Mates to save your life earlier.”
He stared blindly down at her in momentary incomprehension. And then a startled laugh burst from his chest.
“Were you going to reverse that Bond if my answer was no?” he teased.
“Well, I would have tried my best to convince you to say yes,” she replied earnestly, raising her arms to lock around the back of his neck, bringing his head closer to hers.
“I can be very persuasive,” she purred as she nipped at his lips.
“Hmm.” The sound vibrated from his chest and down her spine like fingers strumming against the strings of a bass guitar.
“I was asking you to be my Eternal Mate just now,” Ishtar clarified. “That’s why everyone’s gathered here, so we can have our Mating ceremony. And so it would be harder for you to refuse me—you know—in public.”
“You’ve been busy,” he surmised.
He felt her nod against the crook of his neck.
“I also asked Inanna and Benji for permission, since they’re rather like your guardians,” she confessed.
He smiled.
“What did they say?”
“Inanna said, and I quote, ‘about damned time.’ And Benji whooped and screeched that Uncle Tal is finally getting his leopard princess.”
“This is true,” Tal concurred, hugging her closer until they fitted each other seamlessly, uncaring that they had an audience.
Who were probably worried about why they were taking so long.
“And then Inanna helped me communicate with her ex-comrade Devlin Sinclair of the New England Hive, who dug into the Dark Scrolls in their possession and found the way to reverse the Claiming of a Blood Slave,” she continued to explain.
“So that if you choose to be my Mate, it would be because you could have anyone in the world, but you freely choose me.”
“Ishtar,” Tal breathed against her mouth, “I do choose you.”
She grinned and kissed him hard, full to bursting with joy.
“Let’s make it official, Ninigiku of my heart. I want to ravish you properly this night,” she purr-growled, “and for all the days and nights to come.”
*** *** *** ***
