Sentinels of Creation: A Wizard's Soul

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Sentinels of Creation: A Wizard's Soul Page 4

by Robert W. Ross


  The Sentinel glanced around his bathroom as he stripped off the rest of his clothes and pondered whether to take a bath or shower. Kellan strongly believed that a hot shower or bath was one of the most pleasurable experiences available and had renovated his late nineteenth century cottage to take full advantage of both. His tankless water heater provided an endless supply of piping hot water. He rationalized to his “green-friends” that his investment in a more efficient heating method helped him break even karmically for using more water than they found proper.

  His eyes slipped off the cast iron clawfoot slipper tub as he reached for the glass door that opened on his rather expansive shower. Tubs are best for two and my tub-mate is probably coated with three layers of thirteenth century Scottish dirt about now, thought Kellan. The shower could easily accommodate a small party of friends as Shannon had stated on more than one occasion. It was hand crafted with random island stone that gave the entire area a rustic and organic look Kellan loved. A large wood bench sat along the back of the shower, easily in reach of the two massive shower heads to either side. In addition to those, nine other misting and steam heads were strategically incorporated along with all the knobs and levers needed to operate it all. Kellan chuckled as he heard James Clinton’s voice in his head, reacting the first time he’d seen the shower, Holy shit dude, that thing looks more complicated to operate than a nuclear submarine. And you gave me grief for a French coffee station. Oh, and that wood is gonna rot. What idiot puts wood in a shower?

  Kellan smiled as his practiced hands absently flipped various knobs and dials to bring the shower to life, then said to open air, “Quebracho wood, James. 4,570 on the Janka hardness scale, over 20,000 newtons of force required to dent it. Heck, ipe wood is only 3,510 on the scale and it lasted on Coney Island for twenty-five years before needing repairs.” The young Sentinel involuntarily formed his hands into fists and ground his teeth. He’d gotten so much better about having those random conversations with himself. Maybe getting killed an all caused me to regress a bit, he thought and closed the shower door to allow the steam to build up.

  Kellan moved back to the mirror and checked his wounds again. He frowned. They didn’t seem to be healing as rapidly as he thought they would. He’d been passively channeling with that intent for hours now and they still remained. It reminded him of the time he’d been fairly well mangled by Asmodeus and woke the next morning, alive, but still injured. Kellan made a mental note to run this issue by Nurisha for a definitive answer as to what was up with his healing. The Sentinel was pretty sure there was some obscure rule that prevented exceptionally traumatic injuries from healing passively beyond a certain point.

  “Always rules to these things,” he mumbled as he opened the shower door. A wall of steam billowed out and Kellan stepped into the deliciously warm shower. “I hate rules and really need to understand why—” he trailed off as two arms encircled his waist, drawing him deeper into the shower. Kellan’s mind felt fuzzy and he started to speak again, “Shan—” again he was brought up short, this time by a finger pressed lightly to his lips.

  He reached inward to embrace his power but felt soft lips against his ear.

  “Don’t do that, Kellan. You don’t need to do that.”

  “I don’t need to do that,” he said in agreement and glanced down to stare at the woman who pulled back and locked her eyes with his.

  Her skin was flawless and pale as milk, a stark contrast to the dark hair that draped thick and wet down her shoulders. Sharp sweeping brows framed beautiful almond shaped eyes of iridescent brown. Kellan could feel himself falling into that gaze and she smiled, ruby red lips parting slightly to reveal the tips of razor sharp fangs.

  She drew close to him and Kellan felt her breasts against his chest, wincing as a they slid across his unhealed bullet wounds. She looked down and clucked her tongue. “Poor boy, have you gotten into another tussle. Let me help.” The vampire kept her eyes on Kellan’s while lifting a finger to her mouth and piercing it on a pointed fang. Blood welled up and she deftly rubbed it into the two chest wounds and the one on his head. “Ahh, that’s better now isn’t it,” she purred as the wounds knitted up and vanished. “No more distractions, my very young Sentinel. You have something I want. Something I need. Something,” she paused, “something I’ve been told you can give to me.”

  Kellan felt his body responding but it was like in a dream. It almost felt like he was watching the two of them. Again, he felt the need to embrace his power, but she reached down with a hand and kept her gaze fixed on his. “No, no, none of that. You can fill yourself with power after you have given me what I need.”

  “Mircalla?” Whispered Kellan through the fog of her glamour. “What are you doing? I can’t. Shan—”

  “Shhh, Kellan,” Mircalla said softly, “Shannon won’t mind. I only need you for a little while. She need never know.”

  “Only a little while,” Kellan agreed as he was drawn toward the wooden bench.

  She brushed her lips against his ear again and said, “Love me.” Her words came as a whisper but were charged with the power of command. Kellan wrapped his arms around her and bent to kiss Mircalla’s neck as she began to recline on the bench.

  She jerked violently and arched her back, hissing, as a gout of blood burst from her chest. It splashed into Kellan’s face but was quickly carried away by the many streams of water. He stumbled against the back wall, dazed as another flash of silver streaked by. A second dagger buried itself into the vampire queen, this one in her shoulder. The force of its impact threw Mircalla across the bench. Through the steaming opening to the shower, Kellan saw the telltale sparkle of an Ordered portal winking out. A moment later the vapor parted to reveal a flame haired woman covered in intricate tartan armor that looked to be made of cloth and leather.

  Shannon Mcleod had arrived.

  Shannon had long since learned to always maintain enough of Kellan’s borrowed power to portal to him and it was this reserve she now exhausted, feeling the heat leave her eyes.

  “What the hell is going on here, Kellan Thorne,” she spat.

  “Um,” stuttered Kellan

  “Do you have any idea what kinda mess I left behind in my timeline? I definitely had my hands full, I’ll tell you that for nothing. And then, what comes flashing into my mind? What, Kellan Thorne?”

  “I—” started Kellan.

  “That you are sexually aroused. Exceptionally aroused. Which, as you know, would normally be a very happy thing for me. Except,” Kellan noted Shannon had a third dagger in hand which she now pointed directly at him, “except, for the fact I was 700 odd years away from being able to enjoy that arousal!”

  She tossed the dagger to her left hand and flipped it along the fingers while reaching out with her right to grasp Kellan’s shoulder. Her eyes burst to light as she filled herself with his power and tiny ribbons of green energy played about her body.

  Shannon’s normal Scottish brogue had thickened to the point where Kellan could barely understand her as she growled, “So, perhaps, Sweetie, you might try explaining why I come home to find you all lathered up in our shower with this undead harlot?”

  Mircalla struggled back to a seated position and pulled a dagger free from her chest. The wound closed up almost immediately and the weapon was wrenched from her hand. It reacted to Shannon’s unvoiced command and flew toward her. She deftly drew it from the air to join the other held in her left hand. Ribbons of energy wrapped around the vampire’s wrists and ankles. Mircalla strained against them and looked as if she might break free when Shannon bent down to stare darkly at the vampire queen. The Soulborn held her right hand near Mircalla’s face and a glowing orb of fire began to rotate dangerously. “I suggest you don’t struggle overmuch, while we sort this out. If you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit out of sorts at the moment.”

  Mircalla ceased her struggles and rested her back against the wall, resigned.

  Kellan reached over and turned off the water, his glowin
g eyes now a twin to those of Shannon who had turned again to him. He shrugged. “I know this looks pretty bad, but it isn’t what it seems, Shannon.”

  “It seems, like you were about to have vampire sex, Kellan. If that’s not what was about to happen, you just tell me what was.”

  “No,” stammered Kellan, “I mean, well maybe. Shannon, she whammy’ed me. I walked into the shower and she put the whammy on me.”

  Shannon narrowed her eyes. “You are immune to glamor.”

  Mircalla sighed, “Not if he is prevented from embracing his power. Shannon, this is not Kellan’s fault. He is innocent. I tried to seduce him because I want him to quicken my womb.”

  “You what!” yelled Shannon and Kellan together.

  “If you take these shackles off me and remove the dagger from my shoulder, I’ll at least try to explain,” Mircalla said with a sigh.

  Kellan tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible, quietly placing another log on the fire and poking it ineffectually. The three of them had moved to his living room where Shannon prowled back and forth like a dangerous predator, daggers continually flashing across her knuckles.

  “You and Ah’Anon,” she said again.

  “Yes,” replied Mircalla, “ for over two hundred years now.”

  “And you knew about this?” Shannon asked, turning to Kellan.

  The young Sentinel leaned against the wall, his arms lightly crossed, and gave a slight shrug. “I suspected. There seemed to be something between them when we all met in Eden, but I didn’t press. It was none of my business really.”

  Shannon shook her head as if clearing a bad dream. “So, when did you get it into your head that you wanted to have Kellan’s baby?”

  “I didn’t want his baby, Shannon. I still don’t. Ah’Anon and I want to have a family, but that is impossible, so we thought this would be the next best alternative.”

  “I can’t believe Ah’Anon went along with this. I’m so going to kick his ass,” grumbled Kellan.

  “I told him I would seek your acquiescence.” Mircalla paused and looked to Shannon. “Both of yours, but then I was afraid you would decline.”

  Shannon rounded on her, “You are damned right we’d decline. This is not like asking to borrow a pound of flour. You were trying to steal a child. I don’t even have a baby from the man.”

  Kellan raised an eyebrow, “I didn’t know you wanted—”

  She spun on him, “Not the time for that discussion, Kellan. Best you let the women talk.” He raised his hands and went back to poking the fire.

  Mircalla tried again. “All I can do is apologize. I am not asking you to accept what I’ve done or to condone it, but do try and understand. My greatest wish would be for Ah’Anon and I to have a child together, but our bodies are dead and life cannot be brought from death. However, Ah’Anon found an ancient text that described how Maurius had once coupled with a vampire to produce a trusted protector who would have characteristics of both the living and undead. If this could happen from the Sentinel of Chaos if followed that Order could do it as well.” The vampire queen cast her eyes down and sighed. “If I could not have a child with the one I loved, I thought at least we could raise one together.”

  Shannon stared at Mircalla then yelled, “Well goddamn it!” Kellan glanced over his shoulder at the two women.

  “Sorry, babe” he said.

  “Shut up, Kellan,” she responded.

  Mircalla looked from one to the other quizzically, eyes resting on Kellan. He fake whispered, “She’s pissed because she can’t stay pissed.” Shannon collapsed into a chair and let out an exasperated growl.

  “Insufferable man,” she said, then continued, “He’s right, Mircalla. I understand why you did what you did and I do not condone your method.” She narrowed her eyes. “At…all. But, truth be told, I cannot completely say I wouldn’t have tried the same were I you.”

  “Very gracious of you,” the vampire said softly.

  “I might actually have a solution,” offered Kellan, “if you two are done trying to either seduce me or kill each other.”

  Both pairs of eyes swept to him. Shannon looked suspicious. “If you are thinking of taking a tumble with both of us, Kellan Thorne, I —”

  “No!” said Kellan sounding offended, “I was not thinking about that. Although I am now, thank you very much. No, what I was thinking about is a way for you to get what you actually wanted rather than what you were settling for.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Mircalla.

  “You want to have a biological child with Ah’Anon, correct?”

  “Yes, more than anything.”

  “Well, I think I can help make that happen.”

  “How?” said both women together, then looked at each other.

  “Well, I empathically linked with Meghan when she was 99% dead and brought her back. I imagine I could do something similar to you and Ah’Anon but focus that link to your reproductive bits. I doubt it would last long, but long enough to get things rolling so to speak.”

  “I don’t see how that would help,” said Mircalla, “wouldn’t the child just cease to gestate?”

  “Well,” began Kellan as he slipped behind Shannon’s chair. He casually rested his hands on her shoulder and began rubbing her neck as he continued, “Maurius isn’t the type to stay empathically linked to anyone so the child, once conceived, must have been able to grow on its own within a female vampire.” He waved a hand, “I’m just guessing here of course, but it certainly seems to make the most sense given what little we know.”

  “I don’t like it,” said Shannon, “what would it do to you, Kellan?”

  “Undoubtedly, it would render me sterile for a time equal to the time Mircalla and Ah’Anon were fertile. Shouldn’t be a big deal really, the Ordered energies within me constantly try to keep me in the state I was when I accepted the power. I wasn’t sterile then, so I won’t stay sterile. Heck, it’s not like I was using my fertility for anything right now anyway.” He winked at Shannon, “Unless you know something I don’t, Highlander.”

  “I’m not yet in a joking mood, Kellan Thorne. Tread carefully.”

  Kellan leaned forward and kissed her forehead, “Oh, pish posh, my love. You’ve ceased being cross several minutes ago.”

  “So what do you say, Mircalla, do you want to give it a go?”

  The vampire queen looked from Shannon to Kellan hope radiating from her. “Are you two of a mind on this?”

  “Well, you know I’m cool with it,” said Kellan.

  Shannon slumped in her chair, “You will owe us, Mircalla. You will owe us large time.” Kellan leaned down again and nestled his face amongst Shannon’s fiery tresses as she looked back to the vampire queen. “You will owe us big time.”

  Chapter 4

  A Vist to Scotland, 1285

  Kellan’s phone lit up with a text notification while he idled in line to exit the Phipps Plaza parking lot.

  Ah’Anon: Thank you again, Sentinel. I don’t know how we will ever repay you.

  Kellan smiled and quickly tapped out a response. No worries, just remember that if it’s a girl you have to name her Starbuck and if it’s a boy, Apollo. He watched the little bubbles that indicated Ah’Anon was responding. They continued to flash for quite a long time and Kellan snickered. Finally they vanished and were replaced with his responding text.

  Ah’Anon: Mircalla bade me ask for another, less daunting, way to repay you such as retrieving the lost Ark of the Covenant or raising Atlantis from the deep.

  Kellan laughed then tapped, I’ll consider it. About to drive, can’t text anymore.

  A few minutes later, the young Sentinel glanced over at his iPhone as he turned right from Spring Street and onto the ramp for I75/85 north. “Hey Siri, call Shannon McLeod”

  A slightly artificial female British voice filled the interior of his 1967 Impala. I don’t see Sharon Mikloud in your contacts. Should I look for locations by that name?

  Kellan sighed, “
No.” He spoked louder and enunciated each word more clearly. “Call Shannon McLeod on mobile.”

  Yes, Kellan, it looks cloudy and there may be snow for Christmas.

  “Oh for the love of god, Siri,” said Kellan clearly exasperated, “wait, there may be snow on Christmas Day?”

  Yes, Kellan, there is a 75% chance that snow will begin on Sunday, December 24th and continue through Monday, December 25th.

  “Well, that’s cool,” said Kellan with a smile.

  I’ve always wanted to be cool.

  “Siri, stop.”

  Done.

  Kellan reached over and tapped the front of his phone and leaned slightly as it scanned is face to unlock. He quickly tapped the phone icon and then the favorite for Shannon McLeod.

  “Hello, Sweetie, where are you?” came her accented voice.

  “Hey, babe. I’m around midtown. I had some Christmas shopping to do after my fertility dance with Anon and Calla. Traffic’s light so I’m going to take 400.”

  Kellan heard a variety of side noise and people talking then a muffled Shannon say, “He’s coming up from the city now. I don’t know, let me ask.”

  “Kellan?”

  “Yup?”

  “Why didn’t you just portal here?”

  Kellan grimaced. “Where are you and who are you with?”

  “I’m with two very bonnie lasses at Roswell Provisions.”

  Kellan glanced at his watch. “Are you guys drinking wine already?”

  “No, we are not drinking wine, Kellan Thorne.”

  “Don’t get snippy, I was just—”

  “We’re drinking Whiskey,” came a muffled voice.

  Meghan thought Kellan

  “Flights of whiskey,” came another.

  And…Juliet. Perfect.

  “Highlander, please tell Lucifer’s granddaughter that she’s going to get Roswell Provisions fined for serving a minor.”

  Some scraping and bumping sounds came through the speaker and then Meghan’s voice. “It’s Lucifer’s great-great granddaughter and Juliet is not a minor. She’s twenty.”

 

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