Aisyx - Christmas Preview

by Poppet

  Snatching my focus back to the goddess, I carefully trace her cheek, “Who are you?”

  Long dark eyelashes rest delicately on the top of her cheek and they part to stare bottomless pools of serene green at me.

  She stares so long with her berry blushed lips parting; her hand clutches her chest. Blinking three times in quick succession, she stuns me with an unexpected smile.

  She points at herself, “Nada.” Then frowning, she traces her blood all over my white shirt with her fingertips, “You?”

  Where are my manners!

  Still on one knee like a knight swearing allegiance, I lean in, kissing her on each cheek as is customary, then taking her hand, which is so tiny in mine, I use my free hand to point to myself, “Aisyx.”

  “Chased,” she gasps, her eyes widening, too bright with fear and unshed tears.

  “Not anymore. Now you're safe,” I smile, giving her hand a little squeeze of reassurance. “Are you thirsty? Can I get you a drink?”

  She furrows her smooth brow, “I know you.”

  I shake my head, she must be in shock. “No, I doubt it. I'm half neuri, half vampyre, and never go near your territory.”

  She plucks at my t-shirt with her fingernails, pinching and lifting it as if reading my soul through the blood smears, like a sage seeing the future in tea leaves.

  “I know you,” she says again, determined, resolute. Green eyes morph to aquamarine, then deepen to green so dark it looks black. “You make safe.”

  The harsh slap on my shoulder jars me out of her spell, “Well that settles that. Looks like god thought you were worthy enough to land a vesna. Now keep her safe and let's drop the curtain on this endless night.”

  Glaring at Akae, I don't know what to do. I can't take her home, surely? Or, maybe... what the hell. There's only one way to keep her safe from the hunters and that's to keep her with me, but, damn... I haven't been laid in forever and she's fucking gorgeous.

  She blushes bright red as if I said it out loud.

  A seer, a messenger, an oracle. Great. So she knows what I'm thinking?

  She nods, a lusty laugh caressing my soul when she smiles.

  I am so fucked.

  Sitting up, cradling my hand like a teddy bear, she leans close and whispers in my ear, “You make safe.”

  It blurs my blood into furnace fury, melting my logic and restraint. Standing, drawing her up with me, I'm on autopilot, “You bet.”

  The ace up my sleeve is I'm half vampyre, meaning I can vanish and reappear at will. Holding her close I think of home, teleporting us to my bedroom. It's pitch dark, but safe.

  Unlatching her hands, forcing her to sit on the edge of my bed, I need space to screw the right head on. “I'll be right back. I hope you drink wine.”

  I don't wait for a reply, disappearing into the scullery to pick a well matured cabernet sauvignon. Jesus, I can't think, every fiber of my soul wants to strip her down and suck her... hard.

  Readjusting the family jewels I grab two wineglasses and haul ass back to the bedroom.

  *

  Zarak:

  It must be big... no huge... for Arsay to call a meeting. We warp time to our advantage, often appearing to others in more than one place at a time because of this ability.

  Taking my place at the table I fiddle with the Pyrolic left on the polished ebony, compulsively pouring myself a glass of velvet fire, sipping it as I lean back to examine the walls etched with ancient tales.

  When the archeologists find this place they'll destroy history. Mankind will attempt to bury this information but we will ensure there is a leak. Intel this valuable makes insignificant fame starved humans grand masters of legend.

  Secrets are best retold to hungry ears.

  Akae pops in, sitting next to me, wringing his hands and compulsively winding the ring on his finger, “Master not in yet?”

  I shake my head, counting the candles in the black crystal chandelier. Arsay should have been a vampyre. He loves the entire Gothic error, the décor hasn't changed since gargoyles sprung up all over Paris.

  Akae pours a measure for himself too, guzzling the fire in loud gulps. Slamming the goblet down he glowers at the bleeding walls, “It must be world altering for us to have a meeting. We haven't had a meeting since I stole the oath from Michael.”

  “You didn't steal it. You charmed him with that satin tongue of yours. He handed it over willingly, Akae. I have a hunch Arsay is going to ask you to hand it over to him now.”

  He bolts out of his high backed chair carved in intricate filigree, “I can't! I swore an oath to the oath! I can't give it up! He'd have to kill me to get it.”

  Arcing my eyebrows, his ring of brotherhood has made me fidget with mine and I stop twisting it and indicate he should sit down again, “Don't tempt fate.”

  The atmosphere buries us in silence when Arsay appears at the head of the table, sitting with a flourish and dropping his mask. “It's time for you to know the truth. I've kept it for long enough, now you can carry this heavy burden.”

  No hello, no taking of minutes, nothing but the business at hand. Leaning forward, dropping my own mask, I read the energy pouring down the table from our master.

  And there it is. Why did I never see this? We've been lied to, we lied to the vampyres and neuri in our ignorance, perpetuating the error. They are not fallen, they have spirits, but Arthur was never human. He wears a mask of a body, he has fooled us all into believing he is one of them! He's not, he already is as powerful as a Casting, and yet Arthur has no spirit to call his own. He leeches light, controls it, weaves it, wields it, but is separated.

  What's his game?

  Are you kidding me? Priceless! No wonder he changed it to Satan, I bet all the baby cherubs used to laugh and call him names.

  Looking up at my master, I smirk, “His name is Arthur?”

  Reassuming the mask he bellows loud enough to cause an avalanche down the side of the snow frosted mountain, “Keep that information to yourself. None of this leaves this room until I say so.”

  Akae looks panicked, “The neuri king should have known this. I just told him an outright fabrication!”

  “Which is why you are only now being informed. Those who rely on other people to lead them should expect to be led astray. They have the power within them to fathom the truth from its source. The lazy saint is no saint at all.”

  And instantly we are released, having seemed to never have left our previous locations at all while we held the warp in place.

  *

  Ryan:

  “S'up bro? How's it hanging in Orta?” Zauran says on the pick up.

  I don't say hello, I get to the point, “How is Zaria?”

  “Fine. Why?”

  “And the twins in her belly?”

  “Ryan, you're freaking me out dude. What the hell?”

  “I heard what happened... Akae came to inform me.”

  “I came straight home. She was my first priority. She's fine, and the twins are fine, I checked on their plyx myself,” he says.

  “Do not leave her side. Do I make myself clear? Not for a second. Not even to piss. Got it?”

  “Yes sir. Why?”

  “Just keep her safe and let no vampyre near her until this bastard is caught and apprehended.”

  “I know that tone. You're getting your flame on. Who's going to burn?” He lowers his voice, as if Zaria is close enough to hear.

  Ignoring the question, I add, “And Zauran, when Jowendrhan returns to Belgrade, make him your friend instead of your enemy.”

  “Fuck that! He and his shitty brother Darise almost murdered Svet–”

  “I know what they did. But know this, he is an ally we need in this war, so stop the bull. You are Sveta's alpha, and I am yours. I'm giving you a direct order, and you will give the same order to our youngest brother. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Good. Now I have to go. Keep Zaria safe Zauran, and make sure Sveta takes care of Božena t
oo.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Who's taking care of the vesna?” I ask.

  “Aisyx.”

  “Good. Take the same measures for her, just to be on the safe side.”

  “Yes sir. But–”

  Disconnecting, I drop the phone with a loud clatter, closing my eyes and kneading my temples. Aisyx is family so the vensa goddess is in safe and capable hands. Trustworthy hands.

  How much time do I have?

  Not enough, that much is guaranteed.

  *

  Aisyx:

  Flicking the light on as I reach the threshold, swiveling the knob to horny ambiance, I glance into the bedroom to gauge the brightness of the lamps and almost drop the bottle.

  “What are you doing?” The fragile restraint I had on my throbbing libido is instantly rendered moot at Nada naked, wiggling on my bed like an earthworm on a hot-plate.

  She's high, or out of it, or.... this is fucking strange!

  Long legs spiral sheets around calf muscles, wide hips gyrating in a primal dance across the duvet while she rakes her cheek across my pillow, splaying her arms wide, thrusting voluptuous breasts when she bucks, front and center, moaning and groaning while her hair shadows the movement across my bed.

  What the hell is she doing?

  She rolls, mermaiding up the bed, giving me a face full of home waiting to be claimed while she scores hard nipples into the mattress, hiding her head between the pillows with a long moan of decadent pleasure, her knees slowly widening to flatten her pelvis onto the white linen.

  I can't breathe. Every shadow sliding down that hollow tightens the invisible constriction around my nuts. If I try to speak I'll sound like a eunuch.

  My feet are stuck and refuse to budge while heat explodes in my crotch and I lose blood to the brain. Swallowing, I manage to ledge the glasses and bottle onto the bookshelf, releasing my clammy palms to wipe on my shirt, staring at the vesna strewing my bed with her perfect body.

  Clearing my throat I concentrate hard for the two toddler steps to the end of the bed, staring into the temptation wide open between those luscious thighs. If I so much as cough I'll shoot my load without touching her. Holy fuck!

  Stretching her lithe legs she rolls, smiling coyly at me with sleepy eyes, “You smell good.”

  Unfair advantage, lady. Mind if I do the dog and stick my nose in that sexy hole you have aimed at my dick?

  Splitting my body in half I force my brain to respond, harnessing neuri discipline to reply in an even tone, “What were you doing?”

  “You not know? Vesna cover in mate scent.”

  This broken language is going to get me into heaps of shit, I can just see it. “Excuse me? You're covering yourself in my scent?”

  She nods, her smile hotter than lava when her lusty eyes hood over salacious green irises, “Da. It make safe to smell of strong man.”

  Oh baby, there are a hundred better ways to cover you in my scent.

  Hang on... mate? Since when am I her mate? And why the hell does the thought of that make me lightheaded.

  An innocent smile skates closer with her movement, walking fingers up my stomach to halt over my heart, “Mate, you.” She nods, as if declaring this is easy and absolute.

  Aside from the demons I'm the biggest man on Earth, I'm afraid I'll break her. Halting the hand with mine, imprisoning it while fighting the urge to be a lethal bastard... my neuri nature wins and I step back, releasing her hand... “Grab one of my shirts, you must be hungry... give me ten minutes.”

  Turning before I lose my resolve I almost run, making it to the living room where I bend, the debilitating throb in my dick almost paralyzing.

  *

  Phoebe:

  Dizzy with the amazing out of body energy escape from Ryan's slakax lovemaking, I stare at the door, wondering how long before he comes back and does that again. I have plyx!

  Knock knock.

  Sitting up, my hair a mess, my body lethargic, I'm a little dozy.

  Knock knock.

  “Hello?”

  That sounded like it came from my wardrobe. That freaks me out – a lot!

  The wardrobe door opens and a tall blond man steps out, his eyes shining like comets burning through the night sky.

  “I'm sorry to disturb you Phoebe, but we have an emergency. You need to come, immediately.”

  Snatching up the sheet and covering myself, I stare agape at Arelstin, Ellindt's right hand man.

  “What happened?” I say, tension bombing my tranquility into sharp shards.

  “Jowendrhan's been arrested. We need you to testify for his character. We have not a second to spare. Phoebe you must come, right now.”

  The urgency in his voice is a catalyst. That's why Jo didn't come when I called for him. That might be why Ellindt didn't come either.

  Nodding, I gesture for him to turn around, using the privacy to dive off the bed and yank on the jeans and shirt I placed there earlier. I don't have time for underwear. I've seen the demon courts in action and it gets volatile and dangerous really damn fast.

  “Okay,” I tell Arelstin, letting the amazonian turn around again.

  Rushing past him, I grab a pair of slip on pumps, turning back to him, when he reaches out and grabs my arms tightly.

  “I just have to tell Ryan–”

  “We don't have time,” he says, and the familiar feeling of being moved from one location to another washes over me, my room vanishing and replaced with blackened wet rock walls. It's cold here. My naked feet on the smooth rock floor ice instantly, making me shiver.

  Surveying beyond him, I'm fascinated with the glowing lights that look like iron bars on a prison window, like a bird's cage.

  Shoved roughly backwards, my legs fold when something solid prevents me from stepping back, forcing me into sitting heavily on a bed.

  Arelstin's hand closes around my throat, squeezing, “Welcome home, slakax.”

  Nerves twist my innards, roiling queasiness through me.

  “What's going on?” Fear is washing through me with such vicious waves, I'm almost dizzy.

  Releasing me, he stands towering over me, propping hands on his hips, and I notice his fingernails are painted dolphin gray.

  I've known him for a long time. He's taller than Seithe and Jo, handsome in a beach-bum surfer way, with long platinum hair tied roughly in his nape, his once perfectly aquamarine eyes now shielded with a film of red guilt.

  When did that happen?

  “Arelstin, who did you murder? Why?” I'm scrambling, trying to understand all of these clues in one moment. I need to for survival's sake. I have a really bad feeling something is terribly wrong. “Where's Jo? And the council?”

  Then he smiles, and it would be seductive and sexy if it was on anyone but him. His eyes are piercing and intense, the stare they give me brimming with threat and interest, folding thick arms over a broad chest, rippling the muscles in his forearms and etching the tattoos down his arms into stark highlight.

  “It's just you and me here.” He gives me a smile. It's sharp, cold, ruthless, the kind that you stare at because it feels wrong.

  He's a beautiful man, but his beauty is marred somehow, stained with an evil intent, with diabolical tarnish, it's a demented smile which speaks of pain, claim, and sorcery.

  Staring at the dark blond stubble framing his mouth and perfectly white teeth, the elongating fangs set off alarm bells in my head.

  “Arelstin, what have you done?” I demand, back in Phoebe, Seithe's wife, role. A role I wore long enough to not feel threatened by these other vampyres, but knowing the signs of a man getting hard staring at me.

  He's turned on, and that scares the fucking bejezus out of me.

  His eyes are glowing like hellacious beacons, and the longer his teeth extend, the harder I know he's getting.

  He has a thick vein lining each bicep, curling into his waistcoat to hide somewhere in his chest, and those veins are physically pulsating with his slow heartbeat. It's a vamp
yre trait, the extremely slow heartbeat. When I met Seithe I thought he was dead.

  His hands curl into fists, nestled in his elbows where his arms fold, and his voice comes out thirteen shades deeper, “Phoebe, you will remain here until we reach an agreement.”

  What agreement?

  “What about Jo?” I ask, worried for my brother-in-law.

  “What about him? He's in prison, down below. He can't touch you here. Here I am the sovereign, and as you seem to have a soft spot for sovereigns I have spent the last three years of my life reaching this pinnacle...”

  His arms unclench, moving either side of me when he leans on his fists next to my hips, slanting over me to say directly into my mouth, leering ominously over me, his eyes eyelashes away from mine, “... For you. I've done this all for you.”

  This doesn't make any sense. He loves Ellindt. He'd do anything for her. This is one of her fucked up plots to rule the world again.

  “Where's Ellindt?” I demand, my voice coming out watery and afraid. He's so close I can detect the spice on him. He smells aromatic and potent. It's a fragrance hard to name or define.

  “She's in hell, with her boyfriend Zarak.”

  “Why's she there?”

  “She's been kidnapped. They're holding her until she breaks. And that's why you are here. I can get exactly the same thing she's getting.... from you.”

  “Why me? This makes no fucking sense.”

  Giggling like a drunk schoolgirl, he leans closer, pressing his chest into mine, and the smell of warmed leather hits me. They all wear leather because they're so naturally hot. Scorching. But it's a scent that tugs on the reptilian brain, searing the bloodstream with raging hormones needing an outlet, a sedative, absolution.

  So close, his eyes flicker with pink and flare blood red, “I've sucked your sisters. Now I have to suck you.”

  Chapter 2

  Jowendrhan:

  How come I get into shit when that bastard bruised Božena? He instigated my rebuttal. He antagonized the Elder in me into defending the weak.