The aroma of the meat made Donta’s stomach rumble as he entered the room. Donta had not eaten for several hours.
Mi Zabab looked up from where he lounged beside the table on a pile of cushions.
Donta grabbed a meat skewer and walked over to the north wall and studied the fresco, his back to Zabab. “I wonder, what would happen if one of your Orthodox brethren were to visit you and see this wall?”
Zabab projected his mental response directly to Donta in the private mode.
Zabab –> Donta: Unlikely, Donta. One of the Orthodox would no more visit me than they would sully themselves with visiting you. The only way they will get in here is if I die or I retire. I have no plans of retiring and if I die, what would I care?
“Remind me to paint this room if I decide that I have had enough of your ancient bones and decide to supplant you.”
Zabab snorted.
Zabab –> Donta: Please, you may as well supplant the entire Host. You are only Patron of the Academy because of my influence and because Eligos sees your appointment as a way to insult Malphas and Vassago.
Donta did not reply immediately. He kept his thoughts tightly shielded as his eyes devoured the fresco, thinking. Eventually he broke the silence. “You did not call me here to discuss politics, nor to remind me that I owe my position of, shall we say, virtual equality with you, at your sufferance. What is it you wanted to discuss?”
Zabab –> Donta: The boy you sentenced. The sentence was harsh, harsher than it should have been.
“What would you have me do? His petty, impulsive action could have set back our plans a generation.”
Zabab –> Donta: Surely another punishment would have served?
“No. None has come close to the potential of our current candidate.” Donta turned back to face Zabab and gestured with the untouched meat skewer in his hand at the fresco he had been studying. “You and I both know that the City is changing. It has changed more in the two thousand years that my people have been among you than it had in the thirty thousand years since the Cleansing occurred. We both know the Orthodox are nervous; if we need to wait for another generation, there may not be another generation.” Donta’s voice had gained volume as he spoke. He took a breath and continued in a more measured tone. “What makes you care so for one of my people?”
Zabab –> Donta: You overstep yourself. All of my efforts are directed to rebalancing our society. I yearn for a new Golden Age as much as you do. You know this.
“Apologies. I know the Guest have no greater supporter among the Host than Mi Zabab, and I know our cause would be lost before it began without you.” Donta dipped his head in a cursory bow. Donta had secret misgivings that Zabab’s intentions were not entirely altruistic. He also secretly felt that if he ever voiced this opinion, Zabab would need to find someone to fill the position created by the untimely death of one Mi Donta. “I am still puzzled about why you would concern yourself with the oaf? He is patently unsuitable for this society, or for the one we plan to give birth to.”
Zabab –> Donta: I just want to ensure that we do not reveal our interest in the candidate too early. Did you need to curse the sister too?
Donta turned back to the fresco, happy his thoughts were still shielded. The sister. This was about the sister. The old lecher. That must be it.
Donta could see that she was beautiful, but her coloring was enough to dampen his ardor. Blue eyes, golden hair and pale skin; it was unnatural in the Guest.
However, her coloring may have actually made her more attractive to Zabab, rather than something to accommodate or overlook. Perhaps he had some sort of perverted interest in Donta’s people. Donta had not spoken for a few seconds, and he needed to respond before Zabab decided to take note of his thoughtful silence.
“Yes, the girl. It may have been harsh to make her into a Nightfeeder, but I needed to make an example.” As an added sop to Zabab’s vanity he added, “I will consult you in the future on anything involving the boy.”
Zabab –> Donta: Thank you, Donta, I could ask for no more. I am the servant of our cause; I care nothing for myself. The rewards of service in a noble cause are sufficient for one of the Enlightened, no matter how influential they are.
Donta stifled a groan. He would need to give the girl to the ancient pervert and then cover his tracks. He would need to call in a lot of favors to make this happen and even owe some new ones as well.
“Mi Zabab, it has occurred to me that we may be able to do something to make the sentence less harsh for the girl. Although we cannot reverse the Nightfeeder Curse, perhaps if she served in your household rather on the field battle, she would have a better life. Being able to spend time in your noble presence should be recompense for being cursed.”
Zabab pretended to consider this for a minute.
Zabab –> Donta: Although I hate cleaning up after your messes, Donta, I will take the girl off your hands. I will accept her into my household. Arrange for it, quietly.
The old bugger’s thought was tinged with a slight crumb of lust. Zabab had been controlling his thoughts in Court for longer than Donta cared to guess, so he must have been creaming in his robe to have let even that crumb slip through. Donta knew Zabab was one of the ancients, but he was not sure exactly how ancient he was. Some wild rumors even claimed that Zabab was close to the Emperor’s age. A ridiculous thought, or so Donta had presumed when he first heard it; now he was not so sure.
Donta dipped his head again. “Thank you, Mi Zabab, you are most generous.”
Chapter 4
Edinburgh, Scotland, 2015
Baby wondered where Charlie was. She had not seen her for a few days. This was not particularly unusual. What was unusual was that she was late again to a meeting of the coven. After the last meeting she was sure that Charlie would never, ever be late again. It looked like she may miss the meeting altogether. Being late to one of Leader’s meetings was rare, but absent was unheard of. They sat in the pub at their regular table and waited.
They were not all living together at the moment. They altered their living arrangements fairly frequently to avoid attention. Sometimes they lived together like a bunch of students. Sometimes they would marry one of the Herd and live in the suburbs and sometimes they all lived as single professionals in tony urban areas.
After her satisfying little fling with Ray, Baby had transitioned to single professional mode, which was Baby’s favorite way to live. It gave her the most independence, and she only needed to meet with the coven a couple of times a week. Although they all detested each other, proximity to others in the coven made them all feel more secure. More importantly, it allowed them to get more emotional fixes as they shared their latest conquests with each other through their Soul Catchers.
Tonight was not a scheduled meeting; Leader had sent out a Summons, which compelled them all to turn up.
Leader’s face gave nothing away, but Baby could feel her unease seeping through as the time passed and Charlie did not show. After an hour of waiting, Leader leaned forward and said, “Nothing?”
Lewis, Donald and Little Eve all shook their heads, then turned towards Baby. She hesitated, then shook her head.
Other than Leader, they all knew that she was the most sensitive, as well as the most powerful, of their little coven. Actually, even Leader’s superiority was debatable. When Leader and Baby were not present the others hypothesized about whether Baby could take down Leader in a fair fight. The debate was, of course, academic; none of them could defy Leader, much less fight her, as they were Bound to her will. Even if they had not been Bound, the likelihood of Leader engaging in any fight that could be considered even close to fair was inconceivable. If any being in existence could be considered a survivor, that was Leader and survivors did not follow the rules … they made up their own.
Leader: Why did you hesitate? Did you feel something?
Baby took a deep breath and centered herself before replying. She would control the power of her mindspeech today. She w
ould.
Baby: Nothing tangible. I just feel she is nearby. No direction or location.
Leader: Could she hide from you?
Baby: She has never tried. [pause] But, no, she’s neither subtle enough nor strong enough.
Leader: I thought as much. Could she be hurt? Try calling to her, loudly.
Baby: CAN WE RISK IT?
Baby flushed with embarrassment as the others flinched. She tried again.
Baby: Can we risk it?
Leader: We need to. I need to know what happened.
Baby: OK, if you really want me to.
Leader: Just fucking do it. Alright?
Baby: CHARLIE! WHERE ARE YOU?
The others shook their heads a little as if to clear out the cobwebs. The other patrons in the bar had all paused in what they were doing and there was silence. Then the barman dropped a glass. The sound seemed to return everything to normal. Conversations restarted, quieter than before.
Lewis: Impressive, Baby. Leader, we need to move. Every hunter, sensitive, acolyte and bogeyman within 500 miles would have heard that.
Leader: I decide what we need and what we NEED to do is to find Charlie. Baby, any response?
Baby: I FELT.
She stopped and visualized crimson rose beaded with morning dew, regaining control of her emotions. Then she tried again.
Baby: I felt a faint tingle that could have been her. I can’t be sure. It could have been some curious sensitive or another coven. If it was her, it was close.
Leader: We would know if she was truly dead. Do you think it was her?
Baby nodded.
Little Eve: Could another coven have snatched her?
Lewis: She would have screamed her head off, unless they managed to damage her badly and quickly. I doubt even another coven could do that without her getting a squeak out. What could take her down so quickly that she could not get a mindshout out?
Leader: I can think of a couple of things. Only a couple.
Leader closed off her thoughts and then Commanded them.
Leader: Find her.
Donald: How? Lewis is right, we need to move. Others may come to investigate Baby’s shout.
Leader leaned forward and unleashed her will on them at full force, and said, “Find her.” It was a Command they could not ignore.
Leader split them into two teams. Baby and Eve would search remotely. Donald and Lewis were responsible for the physical search, street by street, sniffing after Charlie’s psychic scent.
Little Eve’s flat was closest to the pub, so Baby and Little Eve went there after scoring some ganja from a skinny bloke with a scarce beard who had set up shop in the darkest corner of the pub. Baby worked better when she was relaxed. They had both flirted with him, getting his hopes up while getting his price down. In the end he practically gave them the skunk for free. Once they paid him they taunted him and called him a pathetic pervert, and his anger and shame had been mildly satisfying. They could have just compelled him to hand over the drugs, but they needed to have some fun, didn’t they?
Baby would be vulnerable as she searched, so Little Eve would make sure her body was safe while her spirit went wandering.
Looking at Little Eve you would not think that she was Leader’s enforcer. She was small of size, lush of body and innocent of face. She looked about seventeen years old and would no doubt have needed to show an ID to buy a drink if she lived outside of Britain. Her flirty, quick smiles often made her victims drop their guard. When they did she was just as likely to pull out their heart as give them a hug. Baby would be safe with Little Eve to watch over her. Anything that tried to get past Little Eve would be broken into tiny, little, bloody pieces.
Baby started to prepare for a deep trance. She took a couple of tokes on Eve’s purple plastic bong, settled into a lotus pose in the middle of the Moroccan rug that covered the center of the floor in Little Eve’s lounge and closed her eyes.
Her breathing deepened and slowed naturally as she visualized a rose bud against a black background. The bud rotated and began to bloom. When she had a perfect carmine rose centered in her mind, she followed the stem back and added the rest of the rose bush to her visualization. She added more and more plants until she had visualized an entire garden.
The garden was surrounded by a thick fieldstone wall that would have stood taller than her head, had she been standing. A heavy iron gate guarded the only breach in the thick encircling stone wall. The gate was covered in black iron roses and black iron foliage. This imaginary garden refuge was her safe zone and it was where she would flee if she ran into trouble. While Little Eve protected her body, her refuge would serve to protect her mind and spirit if she was attacked.
The risk of attack on the etheric plan was rare however, these were rare times. It was not a time to skimp on precautions. After all, someone or something had managed to neutralize Charlie without it alerting her brothers and sisters in the coven.
She moved her refuge to the back of her mind and became more aware of her body again. She loosened the connection to her body, limb by ethereal limb. When she was ready she flung her consciousness up and out and found herself looking down on her cross-legged body sitting on the rug in Eve’s apartment.
With her inner vision she could see the glowing outline of the pentacle taped to the bottom of the rug her body was sitting on. Her spiritless body looked no different than normal, except for the glowing silver strand that anchored her spirit to a point near her navel. Little Eve, however, no longer looked quite so innocent.
Little Eve’s spiritual aspect, the image that represented her on the ethereal plain and overlay the physical image of her body, was twisted and bloated by the misery she fed on. It was the soul of an ogre surrounded by a purplish-black, bruise-like aura. Her aspect was massive, dwarfing her petite physical frame. The size of her aspect indicated her strength, and she was strong, stronger than all the others, except for Leader and Baby. Donald and Lewis’s aspects were no less hideous, but they were about half the size of Eve’s. Leader kept her aura shielded at all times, so it was hard to tell where she fell; however, they all assumed that she was in the badass heavyweight category.
Baby was grateful she could not easily see her own aspect. She knew it was not as twisted as Eve’s. It was not pretty either. She was no innocent, but she was not as steeped in evil as Little Eve. Not yet, anyway.
She willed her spirit up and floated through the ceiling and into the night sky. The city glowed softly below her. Colored lights, representing the souls of the city’s inhabitants, flowed through the streets. Here and there, some brighter lights indicated Latents with high potential psi.
The city’s hospitals drew her attention. Random bright flashes indicating births and deaths, agony and addiction, pleasure and pain. She pulled her attention from the hospital and instantly noticed the dark jewel-like colors of Donald and Lewis; they had neglected to shield themselves.
Baby –> Donald, Lewis: Cover your auras, boys, there may be other seekers out there. She spoke to their minds in the private mode.
Donald –> Baby, Lewis: Yeah, yeah, we were just going to, Donald sent back, then more softly, Uppity bitch.
She pretended she did not hear the last part. She saw Donald and Lewis’s auras briefly flare, then dim until they were dark, almost invisible smudges of charcoal.
Not noticing anything else obvious, she started to scan the rest of the city in a grid pattern, looking for Charlie.
***
Charlie was on the beach.
It was a beautiful day. The deep blue sky had a couple of puff ball clouds. They would pass between her and the sun once in a while, resulting in a slight chill that made her appreciate the sun all the more when they returned. The sea was shallow, green close in and blue further out. The sand was white. A light wind was coming off the water. It was more than a breeze but still not strong enough to blow sand up onto her face or body.
It was Charlie’s favorite spot, her refuge, and it was
deserted. It was always deserted because that’s the way she liked it.
She was not sure why, but there was a knot of anxiety radiating from her gut. The feeling intensified whenever she started to consider possible sources of the anxiety. She really did not want to think about where it was coming from, but, like a loose tooth, she could not stop probing and the anxiety was starting to feel a little like panic.
She was used to anxiety. Leader induced anxiety in everyone she came into contact with. Panic was something alien to her, something, until recently, she had no longer thought herself capable of.
Out on the water clouds were gathering. Black, oily clouds that twisted around a vortex in the sky. The wind picked up and the sand started to plink off her bare skin.
Charlie lay back on the sand, closed her eyes and tried to ignore the hole in the sky. She took a deep breath and focused. The wind waned for a second then surged back with a roar. Charlie peeked out at the ocean and saw a water spout form between the clouds and the hole in the sky.
As the water spout approached she both started to sink into the sand and was stretched towards the gaping maw in the sky. Her reality was losing substance.
She poured all of her willpower into normalizing her environment to no effect. She would not give in, she would not wake up. She could not wake up.
No.
No.
No.
She woke up.
She was in a cage. She was in a fucking cage.
She had woken up in the cage before, she knew that now. She had been blocking knowledge of this place from her consciousness.
She tried to broadcast a call for help but her thoughts were trapped in this room. The cage held her — mind and body. She was limited to the normal five senses, in a way she had not been for centuries. Not since Leader had decided that she was more than just food and Turned her. She was proud of living long enough to be Turned. She knew very well the odds of surviving were miniscule.
Ancient Evil (The First Genocide Book 1) Page 10
