by Riley LaShea
“Well then, I guess we’ll just have to hope she’s smart and keeps herself out of trouble.” Haydn didn’t know what to think when Lilith didn’t demand more. “Is that everything?” she asked.
Everything she needed, every reason she came back, Haydn couldn’t request more, and the difference in Lilith was palpable as she moved her hands to her face once again, lips pressing to a warm, anxious mouth.
Thinking of the times that weren’t bad, the things that were good between them, Haydn’s tongue stroked Lilith’s as her lips parted on a moan. Giving Lilith all she could, Lilith never had to know anything was withheld, and pulling away minutes later to find her eyes closed, Lilith’s cheeks trembling beneath her fingers, it was almost as though she felt. Almost as though she trusted.
“That was pretty convincing.” Lilith’s eyes opened, and there was something within them Haydn had seen before, but, until now, had never been able to recognize. “I am so glad you’re home,” Lilith murmured. “I know you don’t understand -”
“Maybe I do,” Haydn husked, and the smile that came to Lilith’s reddened lips illuminated the night.
“Oh, but this hair,” she groaned. “MacIntosh?” she called again, before remembering he was otherwise engaged. “Someone? Anyone?” When a substitute Haydn didn’t recognize at last appeared at the door, Lilith glanced to the sire. “Collect Kenneth from the synjuments’ lodging for me.”
“Who’s Kenneth?” Haydn questioned as the sire went off.
“He’s Turk’s innocent,” Lilith returned. “He’s young. Virile.”
“So, Turk is still alive?” She should have expected nothing else.
“Well, there was no reason to change things unless you were coming home. But you are.” Touch urging Haydn closer, Lilith brushed their lips together again. “And your happiness is important to me. I’m going to prove it to you, Haydn. You’ll see.”
Apparently thinking there no better way for them to wait, Lilith kissed Haydn again, and Haydn tried not to think too much. When she thought, she remembered what Lilith had done, the lives she had already taken, and, the anger not meshing with the burn of old desire, it produced an unstable state within Haydn. She had come for a reason. Her clan wasn’t yet safe. Until she was certain they were, there could be no outbursts.
The sire Haydn didn’t know returning with a dark-haired man with a complexion much like Delaney’s a few minutes later, Lilith took the innocent from the sire’s hands and sent her on her way.
“Here.” She presented the man to Haydn like an offering. “After such a long trip you must be hungry. Plus…” Curling a gray strand around her finger, she let it spring back to Haydn’s shoulder. “I don’t want to wake up to this in the morning.”
Days left before she needed to eat, Haydn knew the hunger she felt was psychological. If she was going to be there, she didn’t want Turk to be there. Even if the young girls he’d sired to bring him eternal pleasure would remain.
This, though, wasn’t about what she wanted. This was what Lilith wanted, for her to drink and return to the level of youth she’d always kept, for her to kill her brother, as Cain did, just because she hated him. It was a trust exercise, and a request not worth refusing.
The synjument submitting at her touch, he offered no resistance as Haydn entered his veins and drained them, knowing, with surprisingly little satisfaction that, somewhere in the house, Turk, too, had just met his end.
“Now.” Lilith wiped a drop of blood from Haydn’s lip and sucked it from her thumb when she finished. “I want you to go to our chamber and wait for me. I need to talk to your siblings. This won’t be an entirely painless transition. And I need them to start preparing the celebration.”
“I don’t need a celebration,” Haydn said.
“Haydn.” Lilith took her face in her hands, gaze moving meticulously over every new line and scar. “You are a prodigal daughter come home. You get nothing short of a feast. I’ll be a while. Get yourself nice and ready for me, okay? I want to be everywhere inside of you.”
Desire, tinged in mourning, gripping Haydn as Lilith pressed one last lingering kiss to her lips, she realized even a solitary sensation was now torn inside of her. Craving there with Lilith, that she couldn’t deny, her longing was off someplace else, with someone else, and she knew then it would always be.
Getting no answers from the deraph brigade, despite a barrage of nagging questions, as they grabbed what they could carry and took off with it, Garcia turned to Slade as they were left behind in the half-looted shed.
“What the fuck is going on?”
Almost as perplexed as Garcia was by the turn of events - one phone call, mission over - Slade cast his eyes to the equipment left behind, calculating it would still bring in a pretty good take. They might even make enough money to hide from the redhead. If that was possible.
“I guess she changed her mind,” Slade uttered.
“What are you talking about? I thought this was your thing,” Garcia declared.
“I never said that.”
“I thought we were going to kill the deraphs.”
“Guess I don’t have to.” It was an extraordinary relief too, realizing he had actually gotten out of jail free. Well, almost free. That tooth the bitch took from him cost a pretty pence.
“We know where they are.” Garcia gestured to one of the few screens the deraphs had left, too big for quick transport.
It had appeared little by little, and then all of the sudden, the little dot. First, there were just images, random bits and pictures. Darkness. The inside of a boat. The sky upside down and sideways through a small window. Then, the computer ran some long, confusing algorithm Slade didn’t want to understand - something about cloud cover and energy bursts - and there was a large zone, starting just north of Scotland, toward which they could close in. Zone getting smaller and smaller, it at last spit out a tiny dot on the radar. Margin of error less than one percent. Not bad odds.
“We can take them all out.” Garcia paced to the window, looking out at the dock where the boats were ready to roll just as soon as they got word. Unless, of course, the deraphs confiscated those too.
“Really?” Slade laughed. Damn. He thought he was cocky. “You think you can kill eight deraphs? Go for it.”
“Fine,” Garcia uttered, taking off out the door, and Slade wouldn’t have given the tiniest of shits about Garcia’s kamikaze mission if it weren’t for Fiona getting up to follow him. Pushing up from the edge of the table, he went over to the window, watching Fiona catch up to Garcia on the dock.
“Fuck, Garcia,” she shouted. “I didn’t help you so you could commit suicide.”
“Munitions expert, Fiona. Remember?” Garcia looked flippin’ crazy as he turned back to her. “We just didn’t have a target. The stuff in that boat right there.” He gestured. “No one can use it like I can. Whatever Slade and his bully squad had planned, this never had to be close combat. It’s going to be an extermination. I’m not dying tonight. They are. Come with me. Come on, Fiona. They killed Armand and Jim.”
No way, Slade shook his head. No way Fiona would give into that just because Garcia begged. She knew it was stupid. Pointless. Not worth the risk.
“Let’s go,” she said.
“Shit!” Slade scrambled for the door.
The room had been updated. Modern furniture dotted the walls and floor. The bed was new. The feel, however, was the same. Oversized and opulent.
Walking the perimeter, it felt bigger than Haydn remembered it and she felt lost within the expanse, realizing what had once served as a sort of refuge, where she could escape everyone in the house but Lilith, felt much like a cell.
As the rooms at The Rock must have felt for their innocents.
For Delaney.
All around her were marks of Lilith - sex appeal and cruelty. The room had always been mostly Lilith. Even after a hundred years, it had been. Even after five hundred years, it had been. Even after a thousand, it would remain that w
ay. Haydn was only a part of her world, an occasional voice of reason in Lilith’s monarchy.
They were all just Lilith’s servants in the end.
Tinkering with objects as she found them, Haydn discovered little of particular surprise. Things that would be shocking to most had little effect on her. She’d known Lilith far too long to be startled by a finger kept in a glass case or a spiked iron ball still iced with blood.
Standing before the tooth, though, she took a moment. Only one person she’d ever seen with such an implant, he wasn’t the only one in the world, Haydn was certain, but it was still a rather curious object to find there, when, last she knew, Slade still had his in his mouth.
It was only as she took the black box from the mantel and cracked its lid, though, that Haydn started. Not because the items inside were particularly gruesome or erotic - she expected those things of Lilith - but because she simply didn’t expect to find them there. In such complete supply. So ready for use.
Knowing she shouldn’t, she closed the lid at once. If Lilith came in, she would be furious. She would decide she couldn’t trust Haydn before Haydn had a chance to earn her trust. She would wrap that Élan Vital Tie around her so tight, Haydn would never believe for herself again.
It may be fraudulent, it may be short-lived, but Lilith was being almost kind. Such a strange and wondrous phenomenon, she didn’t want to destroy that. Most got no sway over how good or bad their eternities could be. How good or bad Haydn’s would be depended highly on Lilith’s disposition. Recognizing that, she slid the box back onto the mantel and went to the bed, where she knew Lilith wanted her.
Stretching her neck as she leaned against its tall side, Haydn tried to keep her thoughts where she was, tried not to let her mind wander to anyplace or anyone beyond the boundaries of Lilith’s estate.
Traitorous eyes roaming back to the black box, she failed miserably.
Lilith did say she would be a while.
40
Delaney woke to a sensation. Achingly familiar, she tried to remember where she felt it before.
Eyes cracking in the dim of the room, she cast them weakly around, wondering if Brooks, the puppy, had at last accepted Haydn wasn’t coming back and made it up to the comfort of the bed. Finding the room as quiet and empty as it had been before she fell into sleep, the feeling - the pull of everything - drew Delaney’s foggy gaze to the curtains in front of the balcony doors.
Stumbling out of the bed, she caught the bedside table, as the floor, tinted softly yellow in the dying fire, whirled into vortex. The rest of the room a moving blur as she lifted her gaze, it occurred to her, in retrospect, it may not have been wise to accept both Heidi’s sleeping pill and the lager Ellis offered her. Steps slightly off-kilter, they managed to carry her to the curtains, and Delaney fumbled to pull them apart, struggling even more with the latch that held the doors closed, before finally jerking it free and pressing them open.
Cold brutal against her bed-warmed skin, Delaney was beckoned into it anyway, all thought and intuition luring her to the balcony’s railing, and she stood in the place where she first saw Haydn pose like a goddess before she dove into the sea. Gazing out at the spot where Haydn emerged from the water, as the ocean lapped calm and quiet against rock three stories below, Delaney saw her once again. Breaching the surface, dark hair clinging to porcelain shoulders, Haydn looked so real, but so ephemeral, Delaney didn’t know how long she would last.
Same sensation drawing her onto the railing, Delaney’s heart thumped in her chest as she stared at the water below, though she couldn’t tell if it was the adrenaline, the fear, or the frantic desire to get to Haydn as she plunged toward the sea.
Air even colder as it rushed around her, the water felt warm by contrast, but the brutal impact was still a shock to Delaney’s system. Leg scraping something sharp, sea water rushed into the wound, and, holding her breath as she went deeper and deeper, Delaney panicked at the realization she would never have enough oxygen to make it back up.
Dread closing in, icy and fatal, the sensation suddenly assailed it, wrapping Delaney in warmth and safety, and she felt herself rising again, panting for air as she breached the surface, teeth chattering as she was yanked around.
“Delaney, what in the hell were you thinking? You could have killed yourself.”
Hands shaky as they reached out, they found the soft, strong curves of Haydn’s face.
“I thought I was dreaming.”
“Jesus Christ,” Haydn returned. “You’re going to freeze to death.”
Carried through the undulating water, Delaney clung to Haydn’s bare shoulders, watching dark eyes stare past her. When Haydn deposited her onto the narrow shore at the base of the cliff on which the castle loomed above, she lost confidence as her hands broke from Haydn’s skin, until Haydn climbed onto the shore next to her, naked body pressing against Delaney’s through the fabric of her nightgown, and she was convinced again that Haydn was real.
“You have to get back inside.” Haydn pulled her to her feet, grasping Delaney’s hand to lead her to the rocky path that curved up the cliff side to the castle.
“Wait.” Delaney pulled back. Shiver racking her as Haydn turned around, her eyes moved over porcelain skin, thrilled with all the parts of Haydn they could see, though not entirely certain of anything as they watched her hair change unnaturally. “Why are you so dry already?”
“I’m not exactly me,” Haydn uttered. “This isn’t my body. It’s hard to explain.”
“Sylph?” Delaney shivered harder.
“I guess it’s not that hard to explain.” Soft smile coming to Haydn’s lips, it pained Delaney, and she couldn’t remember why. “Now, can we please get you inside?”
Disorientation beginning to let up, Delaney recalled the last few hours - what Gijon had told her, where Haydn had been, where she must still be - and her hand slipped free as Haydn tried to lead her again.
“Was it really that bad?” She felt tears fall amidst the cold drops on her face as Haydn looked back at her. “The notion of a lifetime with me? I mean, I know I’m going to get old, and… Yeah, I am,” she realized. “And you’re going to stay you and... I never should have asked.”
“Delaney, that is not it.” Haydn was close in a heartbeat, hands on Delaney’s cheeks, dark eyes gazing into hers, and, seeing that thing that was always there when Haydn looked at her, Delaney clutched her wrists, wanting to fall into it forever.
When Haydn’s eyes closed, though, the hands on her face pushing Delaney softly back, she knew it was too late.
“She’ll never stop,” Haydn said. “She won’t. I don’t want you to live under the threat of Lilith. No one should have to live like that.”
Choked sob taking her by surprise, Delaney tried to suppress it, to not make it harder for Haydn, for either of them, knowing why she had done what she had done - not just for her, but for all of them.
“You said you can’t love.” She realized, too late, the life she wanted most was the one that was always going to be impossible. “I don’t believe you.”
Haydn’s caution failing, the hand on Delaney’s cheek moved to the back of her head.
“Don’t.” Delaney tilted her face, forehead pressing to Haydn’s to keep their lips from meeting. “I know what happens. I want your soul and body together, so if it’s ever safe, you can find me.”
That didn’t stop her fingers, though, from clinging to Haydn’s arms like they were the only things securing her to the world.
“All right.” Haydn didn’t tell her it would never be safe. She didn’t tell her they would never see each other again. She didn’t have to. Delaney already knew.
When Haydn pulled away, fingers holding Delaney’s face as she looked up, Delaney knew that was all it was going to be, the last moments between them. She would go inside with Haydn, and Haydn would lie down and go to sleep and drift back into her own body.
“Do you smell that?” Haydn’s tension coiled suddenly around them
instead. “It’s strong.”
Senses overly-occupied by Haydn, it took Delaney a moment to notice anything else.
“Yeah, a little. Sweet.” She barely got the word out before the cloying odor invaded her lungs, filling them with unbreathable air, and Haydn’s arms circled around her as she choked.
Head whirling toward the entrance tunnel before any sound came, Haydn swung to shield Delaney as a massive projectile - like a missile - swept past them and traveled up the cliff wall. Small explosion sounding somewhere overhead, it blasted louder outside the castle walls, and Delaney was petrified to her spot as the very air caught fire.
Racing down the cliff side toward them, she couldn’t catch her breath as Haydn tackled her back into the water. Thrust down into its depths, she could still feel the heat of the fire, and, running out of air, she thrashed on instinct, but Haydn refused to let up. Consciousness dimming as her eyes opened to the orange sea above, at last Delaney felt calm.
Earth quaking Cain from sleep, he flailed for the metal table where it teetered beside him, failing to catch it before it dumped the machine onto the floor.
“Fuck all!” Tube ripped from the vein in his thigh, his hand went to the spot, teeth clenching against the renewed pain of consciousness.
Off-tempo thuds sounding beyond the lab door, he listened for a moment, trying to distinguish them. Unable to pinpoint where they came from, or to make the noise stop from his position of incapacitation, Cain slid his legs from the table, pulling out the remaining tubes that hooked him to the demolished equipment, and dropped shakily to his feet, grabbing his half-full piss bag to walk across the room.
Door tugged open, he leaned against it, hoping to find nothing that would demand substantial effort on his part, and discovering himself shit out of luck. Rocks sliding down the cave walls, he ducked back as a considerable bolder rolled past the doorway, realizing effort didn’t begin to cover it. World apparently coming to an end, he was in piss-poor shape to take on an apocalypse.
