Bloodlines 2 Ancestry

by Toni L. Meilleur

  “For what reason?” Dharean looked down at the small woman, looking for any signs of lying.

  “To make a deal; the Elder Council…” and that was all Allantra managed to get out. In a sudden onset of rage, Dharean pushed her into a sleep, catching her before she fell. Her small, lithe form was almost like the weight of a child. He cradled her to his chest.

  “Have you judged her, Noir Brujo?” Masque asked in his emotionless voice.

  “Yes. But first I believe we need to get some information from her. Then I will send her to her death.” He said through gritted teeth. It was too bad, for his body screamed to join with hers. It was a most unusual pull and one that made him uncomfortable. It was also the only reason he hadn’t killed her instantly at the mention of the vampyres.

  * * * *

  The sound of voices woke Allantra. Instinctively she lay still as if she were still under the grips of the sleep compulsion that asshole Dharean pushed on her.

  “You brought her to me for what reason, Dharean?” an old voice asked gently.

  “You can see into her soul, tell me what I need to know,” his deep voice answered.

  “Have you learned nothing I have taught you, child?’ she lightly admonished him.

  “I do not know what you mean,” he answered, confusion lacing his words together.

  “You have but to look at her, and all the things surrounding her entrance into Kynn to know her soul.” The old woman answered. At least it sounded like an old woman.

  “You are speaking in riddles, Za’rae, I have no time for riddles.” Dharean began to sound irritated. Good, Allantra thought to herself, that makes two of them.

  “Life is but one riddle after another, Brujo. Do not speak to me of time. I haven’t the time for your foolishness. I am old and tired and I wish to join the spirit of the others.”

  “Do not talk like that, Za’rae, the people need you.” He voice gentled considerably.

  “The people have what they need now.” The voices grew quiet, and Allantra had the sneaky feeling they were looking in her direction. She didn’t dare open an eye.

  “We knew the moment you were awake. Please join us. We wish to humor your silliness no more.” The old woman’s voice held authority even though she spoke gently.

  Allantra opened her eyes, and found herself in a rather lavish hut. A blue fire burned in the middle of it, Dharean sat on the opposite side, the old woman sat to his right. Allantra sat up and looked across the fire at Dharean hoping she looked as pissed off as she felt. It was the appearance of the old woman that sent her senses into shock. A tiny figure huddled near the fire sat cross-legged. She was completely bald with bushy snow-white eyebrows. She appeared to be dressed in a plain brown linen gown that hung in waves around her frail body. But it was her eyes that frightened Allantra, for under the bushy eyebrows coal black shiny eyes stared at her, not one eyelash to speak of. Her eyes were so shiny and black Allantra saw the fire reflected in them. She shivered; the woman just looked plain creepy.

  “Do not let my appearance upset you. Sit closer so that I may see the woman that has Dharean so confused.”

  “I am not confused, Za’rae. I have judged her…”

  “And yet here she sits by my fire. I do not recall such mercy toward any before her.” Za’rae quipped all the while her coal black eyes were trained on Allantra.

  “I merely want to know her intentions.”

  “We both know you have the means and the magic so see clear through her mind.” Za’rae challenged him. “You know the prophecy as well as I, Brujo. Perhaps it would behoove you to go to the Tome and familiarize yourself…”

  “I am very familiar with the prophecy.” Dharean cut her off, rising abruptly. “I will be back for her.” With that he rose, spun on the balls of his booted feet and stormed out of the hut.

  The people of Kynn scampered to get out of the way of Dharean. It did not matter that he was angry; the people of Kynn always got out of his way. He was the Noir Brujo. The Black Wizard, the only known shifter to embrace and excel in the dark arts. He was their protector, healing those with no hope, patrolling Kynn steadfastly, but they feared him. They feared him enough that none spoke unless the request of a favor was in order. No one struck up a conversation with him. No one engaged him socially. Even the females, though physically attracted to him, only sought him under the cover of night. After tumbling with him, they left just as quietly without so much as a glance back. He was not marriage material; he was only good enough to make them scream in pleasure.

  It was fine by him. At least that’s what he told himself. He had hardened his emotions long ago, accepting the role as both protector and outcast among his people. He was the most powerful and the most feared. Za’rae officially was Clan Matriarch, but in reality it was Dharean who ruled the clan. And now the ruler was enraged. He knew the moment he spotted her she was trouble. She even had Za’rae on her side if their exchange was anything to go by. Za’rae would not let him kill her now, though he seriously doubted he could. What was it about her? She already had a lover. Vampyre or not, shifters only kept steady lovers who would turn into mates. Shifters mated for life. She was as good as mated. Even as he told himself this, he could still feel her body pressed against his chest. Soft and firm in all the right places a voice whispered in his head. Aside from the scent of the vampyre her natural scent drew him like a moth.

  “Consulting the Tome?” Masque asked falling into step as Dharean stormed toward his own isolated hut.

  “I have no need for that,” he growled, though in truth that’s exactly what he was doing.

  “Za’rae believes her to be part of the prophecy.” Masque stated.

  “Za’rae is old.” Dharean replied.

  “Za’rae has never been wrong.” Masque halted his steps. Dharean needed to deal with this alone. “The time has come old friend. Accept your fate.”

  When Dharean whirled around to give Masque a few choice words he was only met with his rapidly retreating backside. Only Masque did not fear him. He smirked; he truly needed to consult the Tome, if even Masque sided against him.

  Chapter Two

  Touched by evil that flows and ebbs

  The Ancients cower from its web

  The Scion comes from enemy land

  A harbinger for change at hand

  Mated first to an enemy that’s not

  Mated second to a wizards’ lot

  The three shall form the weapon to be

  The catalyst of death to the enemy

  If one should falter from the path

  T’would bring down destiny’s final wrath

  The enemies’ stronghold shall re-enforce

  Survival of the Ancients, shall end its course

  No matter how many times he read it he still refused to believe he was to be mated with that shifter and her bloodsucker mate. Dharean closed the Tome forcefully in disgust. What other fate could a Noir Brujo expect? The likelihood of any of the unmated women accepting his advances to marry would be met with uproarious laughter.

  “You should take greater care with the Tome, Dharean. It did not survive this long to perish under your temper.” Za’rae’s amused voice floated down to him. He looked up from the Tome to see the almost transparent projection of Za’rae hovering above him across the table, still sitting in her cross-legged position.

  “How long have you been here, Matriarch?” Dharean was slightly irritated at the uninvited intrusion, yet was careful to show the wise one respect.

  “Long enough to know you have seen that prophecy the whole of your life, and yet you refute it as it comes into being. If one should falter from the path…” She let the words hang in the air, waiting for him to pluck the meaning straight from the source.

  “You believe it refers to me as the weak link?” Dharean didn’t know if he was more shocked or offended by her insinuation.

  “You are the only one in denial.”

  “I am the only one of the three who knows the prophe
cy.” He retorted in sarcasm. “Perhaps we should be fair and gauge the reactions of the other two participants before we deem me the weakest link. Would it be so far fetched that the young wench would refuse her fate? She is, after all, the youngest and has no idea of her ancestry if she was indeed raised in the land of the enemy.”

  “Well, since you are the one well-versed in the prophecy it would call to order that you would need to be the strongest link in order to teach the other two.” Za’rae smiled in triumph.

  “You may be old, however, you are still quite the trickster.” Dharean smiled in affection. The old woman would take the weakest link and try to make it the strongest. “You know Minn does not like you to project, she always thinks you are dead.”

  “Bah,” Za’rae responded waving her bony hand to emphasize her indifference. “I have been projecting longer than she’s been alive, she will have to get used to it. She will know when I am dead, sure enough,” Za’rae cackled.

  * * * *

  Allantra stared in horror at the old woman. She had suddenly gone very still. It looked as if she wasn’t breathing. Why did the old woman have to die when she was in the hut? This did not bode well for her. It was bad enough Dharean thought her a traitor to the people anyway, when word got out that the leader died while alone with Allantra…

  She got up slowly and went around the fire to the side of the old woman. She knelt down next to the woman and waved a hand in front of her eyes. The black eyes only reflected her hand; Allantra snatched back her hand quickly. She wanted to check for breathing but felt if she touched the body it might tip over. Allantra’s mind began to race as she thought of a way out of the situation. If she could get out of the hut and into the forest she had a chance. Of course the quest was all shot to hell, but that didn’t mean her life had to end right here right now.

  Allantra pictured a boa in her mind and waited for the shifting of her body. Nothing happened. Breathing deeply Allantra decided that maybe she was too nervous and needed to calm down. Again she tried; she looked down, she was still in her natural form. Now panic began to move in. The hut was obviously spelled against shifting. If she couldn’t get out of this hut undetected that would mean she had to fight her way out. That sure reduced her chances of getting out alive. One last look at the still form, she sent up a silent prayer for the woman and herself and began to crawl with her belly as close to the ground as possible and headed for the door of the hut. The door swung open. Allantra froze.

  “What are you doing?” a woman’s voice asked in puzzlement. Allantra looked at the delicate feet before her. She sighed deeply bent her legs under her and settled her weight on them, then looked up. A rather short slightly plump woman looked down at her in puzzlement, she carried a large bucket filled with liquid. Briefly Allantra wondered if it was tar for her.

  “I was uh…” Allantra stumbled over her words as she looked into the woman’s kind brown eyes. Eyes that suddenly grew round. Allantra didn’t need to follow her line of vision to know she was looking at the old dead woman. What was it about dead bodies, that seemed to find their way to her?

  “Za’rae!” she yelped and set the bucket down. It sloshed soapy water over the side. Allantra’s heartbeat slowed a notch. At least it wasn’t tar. The plump woman ran to Za’rae’s side and clutched the old woman’s head to her bosom. “Za’rae! Please don’t leave us!” she wailed.

  “I found her like that, one minute she was staring into the fire…” Allantra began to explain wondering if this would be the only time she got to say her piece.

  “What?” the woman stopped wailing and rocking long enough to cast Allantra a tear stained look. “She was looking into the fire?”

  “Er yeah, then she got quiet and—.” The grieving woman cut off Allantra.

  “Seemed to go still as a rock?” she finished, this time the woman seemed to be annoyed.

  “Well yes. I know it sounds odd but…”

  “Nothing odd about it!” the woman clipped, putting the woman away from her back into her cross-legged position. “I hate it when she does that!” The woman used a thin slip of her dress to wipe her face. Allantra was confused. Just how many times did this woman die like this? “She’s not dead, she’s projecting,” the woman sniffed.

  “Projecting?” Allantra queried.

  “Yes. Astral projecting, she’s here somewhere in the village.” The woman rose and went to retrieve her bucket. “I’ll have a word with her later. In the meanwhile I am Minn. I am Za’rae’s personal servant. She told me of your arrival and wished me to bathe you.”

  “Oh—oh!” Allantra screeched as meaning set in. “I can certainly clean myself, just leave the bucket here and I can tend to my own needs.” This seemed to chafe at Minn.

  “Your requests mean nothing to me. My mistress has instructed me and I am duty bound to follow. Now please remove your clothing.” Minn gave her a rather pointed brown stare. Allantra stared right back. She didn’t come this far to be pushed around by a servant.

  “Are you sure you want to challenge me, young one?” Minn asked sweetly, though there was no sugar in her intentions.

  “I am not challenging you; I am standing up for myself.”

  “Which means you are standing against me,” Minn quipped.

  “Nothing personal, Minn, I have been bathing myself for quite some time now. I believe I have the hang of it.” Allantra replied just as sweetly. Minn smiled right back and whispered something so softly Allantra couldn’t understand the words. But in seconds she was completely naked and Minn was doing everything she could not to burst out laughing at the perplexed look on Allantra’s face. “How did you do that?”

  “Tis a simple spell. Surely you learned it as a whelp as well?”

  “I don’t know any spells.” Allantra said in distraction as she used her small hands to try and cover her more intimate parts.

  “How is it you don’t know any spells?” Minn narrowed her eyes at Allantra. “You were not born in the Savage Outlands?”

  “I believe I was born in the Savage Outlands, but I was raised in the Civil Lands.” Frustrated at her inability to cover herself she gave up and just looked up at Minn whose mouth was gaped wide open.

  “You were raised in the enemy lands?” she whispered almost to herself. “The Scion comes from enemy land.” She looked at Allantra a little more closely. “You are…”

  “To be bathed as I instructed.” Za’rae’s sharp tone cut Minn’s words. Both Minn and Allantra jumped, as the mistaken-corpse-that-wasn’t began to speak suddenly. “She has need of a few creature comforts.”

  “I was getting on that.” Minn responded looking at Za’rae curiously before approaching Allantra.

  “I was telling Minn I am quite capable of doing it myself.” Allantra replied still resisting Minn’s services.

  “You will allow this, Allantra. It is my will. Believe me you will enjoy the bath.” With that, Za’rae completely vanished.

  “She’s amazing.” Allantra breathed.

  “She also is used to getting her way.” Minn said with a smile, setting the bucket next to Allantra. Minn then went into a far corner of the hut and retrieved a beautifully woven multi-colored mat. She unrolled it next to Allantra.

  “There is no need for that.” Allantra said trying to save the situation from violence.

  “Stretch out on the mat for me.” Minn said conversationally. To the disbelief of Allantra she found her body obeying Minn’s commands.

  “What the hell?” Allantra watched as her traitorous body obediently lay down on the mat.

  “This is Za’rae’s hut, young one. Whatever she wills in it, it shall be done. It is the strength of her magic.” Minn smiled at her as if trying to console her. “Do you think it odd that Dharean brought you here? He did so because he knows you pose no threat to Za’rae, and she will keep you detained in comfort. It is better than what he does for his other prisoners.”

  “This is only temporary,” Allantra bit out, embarrassed beyond be
lief to be naked and supine in front of a woman she did not know. Not only that, she was about to be intimately washed by this woman.

  “We will see,” Minn simply stated and pulled an odd looking sponge from the bucket. “Relax, you will enjoy this,” Minn said kindly, seeing Allantra’s hands rolled into fists. Immediately they relaxed.

  Allantra closed her eyes and tried to go to a happy place. Was this really necessary? Why couldn’t she wash herself? It wasn’t as if she had concealed weapons inside of her.

  The warm soapy sponge touched her foot first. Minn slowly worked the soft sponge around her feet. Allantra hated to admit it, but the sponge almost felt as if it were licking her. Bolts of arousal began to shoot through her body much to Allantra’s shame. “You should not be embarrassed by any arousal you feel, young one. This sponge was designed to bring pleasure in this way.” Minn dipped the sponge again. “The ointment in the water makes your skin susceptible and sensitive to the feel of the sponge,” she explained as she slowly moved the sponge up towards Allantra’s ankles.

  Allantra closed her eyes, as the sensations would not be ignored. She felt herself warming up as the arousal took over. Minn parted her legs to pay special attention to each one separately. The sponge sucked and licked at her as Minn ran it over her body, first one leg, then the other. Allantra found herself anticipating the sponge at her cleft. To her disappointment Minn skipped it entirely, opting instead to jump to her stomach. Allantra’s back arched, as the sponge seemed to kiss her intimately at her belly button. She heard Minn’s low chuckle. “That’s right, enjoy it,” she urged, dipping the sponge again this time letting the water saturate Allantra’s small breast.

  Minn skillfully worked the sponge around her nipple until Allantra was ready to scream. Then Minn switched to the other breast, causing her to hiss in pleasure. “I have a surprise for you,” the woman whispered.

  Allantra was so wrapped up in the sensations she barely registered the words until she found another sponge seeming to suck at her clit. Minn indeed was an expert at bathing, for she worked. both sponges simultaneously, one at the breasts the other at her core. Allantra couldn’t help but gyrate in abandon as Minn worked her clit with the sponge. Her nipples only seemed a continuation of her clit. Minn re-dipped both sponges, making her even more sensitive and wet. She worked them faster as Allantra’s breathing became raspier. It seemed all sound ceased as the orgasm rocked Allantra. Wave after waved of pleasure rippled through her body, making her back bow in response. Her hands clutched at the mat as she tried to keep from shattering completely.