Ishtar Bound (a book of Sinnis)

by Gibson, Natalie

  Maeve walked past the guardian who now looked repentant with his head hung. She blew into the outer chamber of Nathalia's suite where Lucas and JD were still waiting. “Come on boys. We're going to get Aaron.”

  ***

  It looked like an ordinary house from the outside. The four of them laughed as they walked up the sidewalk to the front door. Well, three of them laughed. The guardian was weary of the house and watched it as if it might come to life and gobble them all up.

  No one answered when they knocked. Maeve turned the knob, “Locked” she said. The guardian touched it and gestured for Maeve to try again. She did and, finding it now unlocked, pushed it open. They stood for a minute on the stoop looking in. It looked ordinary on the inside too. Maeve called, “Hello? Aaron?” She knew he was here; she could feel his proximity. He was slightly forward and below them. Maeve could see the basement door from there so when she didn't hear an answer, she headed in.

  The scene changed drastically once they crossed the threshold. The peaceful living room faded away, revealing what could only be described as a laboratory. Shelves lined the walls. Jars, filled with ingredients none of them wanted to look closely at, lined the shelves. Pots of muck boiled, gulping out noxious fumes.

  “What the hell?” Lucas whispered.

  “Shielding” the guardian said simply. Now that he was inside, he didn't like this plan at all. He could smell and feel the wrongness. “Blood and violence. We must go.”

  “Of course there's blood and violence. This is a SOFE house. We have to see Aaron. We have to...” Maeve paused. She hadn't really thought about what she wanted to say to Aaron. She wanted him to know how she felt and that he was right. They were mated. “I'll die without him,” she stated without explanation.

  The guardian nodded once. He understood and would protect her and the One. They quickly crossed the room and made it into the kitchen where the basement door stood. From the bay window of the breakfast nook they could see people milling around in the backyard.

  JD and Lucas went down first, exchanging a look. They didn't think it was smart to go into the basement of a house where the occupants thought that front room looked appropriate. What horrors awaited them in the private hidden parts of this house?

  At least it wasn't dark. Maeve followed them and Samseil brought up the rear. He knew there was only one person down here so he sealed the door behind them, safeguarding it against any entry. Maeve's scream brought him down the steps in a flash. He moved so fast that only a sliver of her sound made it out before he clamped down on her mouth.

  Aaron lay on a white marbled alter in the middle of the dirt room. Face down, his extremities were chained to huge iron rings staked into the floor and his body was unnaturally shaped. He was nude but hardly any of his flesh color showed, coated in blood and wounds as he was. He was cut and burned and who knows what else. His head was turned toward them but Maeve wished she could unsee his face. Someone had beaten him within an inch of his life.

  There was no chance he could survive this, Maeve was sure. Red liquid filled the grooves in the alter and pooled in the urns on each of the four corners. No one can lose that much blood and survive.

  As if hearing Maeve's thoughts Samseil said, “He lives”. The giant approached the prostrate man slowly, suspecting a trap. He griped the ring with both of his hands and straightened the iron shackles like they were made of clay. Then he did the ones binding Aaron's feet.

  JD stood stunned, staring at his best man's body, his dead cousin. They were all so shocked that no one registered the immense show of strength Samseil had just made. They were silent. Maeve met the guardian's gaze and he nodded. The Holy Mother needed her mate to live. Samseil would do everything within his power to make sure he made it through this.

  Aaron's friends and mate had the undeniable urge to look away. None saw the massive man bite his own wrist and hold the dripping appendage over Aaron's mutilated back. When the three looked at Aaron a few seconds later, he took a ragged breath and opened his good eye. “Maeve,” he said, but it came out sounding like little more than a gurgle. “Shouldn't be here.”

  She rushed to his side and knelt to put her face even with his. “Aaron,” she sobbed. “I love you. Please don't die.” She put a kiss on the only square inch of his face not bruised and battered. When she lifted her head she could see that Aaron's back looked better. Not good, but better, less like ground meat.

  “Do not leave this room. I will fetch the Healer.” No one noticed the guardian leave. Once he was gone, none could even remember he'd been there.

  “Don't die,” Maeve repeated. She held Aaron's hand gently rubbing the back of it with her thumb. She ignored the way the fine gravel dug into her knees. “Don't leave me. I won't raise our baby without its father.”

  “But you said..”

  “I know what I said, JD!” She hissed at him. “I was trying to protect Aaron.” She turned back. “I thought you were mated to someone else and I wanted to spare you. You didn't need some baby mama mucking up your chances with that other woman.”

  “I give a rat's ass about the mystery girl.” This time, when Aaron spoke, it was less liquid sounding. The crimson flood was moving from his lungs into his mouth and out onto the alter. It made a puddle around his head.

  “Shhh...try not to talk.”

  Aaron didn't listen. “I'm dying...its okay...now that I know you loved me.”

  “Love, not loved, Aaron.”

  “should go...run...will kill you...step through when veil cut...reclaim power...”

  “Aaron?!” Her voice pitched when his face went slack and his eye closed.

  “What did he say?” The guardian's voice was startling. No one had noticed his return nor the entrance of another guardian. They both wore cloaks made of what looked like leather.

  JD and Lucas tripped over each other to answer the larger man, “Something about killing Maeve and reclaiming power”, “and stepping through a veil...a cut in the veil”.

  The unknown guardian spoke to Samseil in a language no one else understood. It went up at the end. A question. Samseil answered him, “Not possible. The location of the DakuAhu is only known to one and he has been imprisoned for five centuries.”

  “Don't worry about that nonsense! It's the same bullshit SOFE are always talking about. They try to bring the old gods through to this side.” She pointed a finger at the newest addition to their rescue party. “Are you a healer? Then, heal him!”

  The Healer put his hands on Aaron who jumped. He closed his eyes to better 'see' what was happening inside his patient's body. Maeve kept her eyes on the shallow rise and fall of Aaron's back. If this healer was anything like Camilla, his very presence could hurt her unborn but Maeve didn't spare the fetus a second thought. Samseil could worry enough for the three of them. The only thought in her head was for Aaron.

  “Poison,” the healer said. He nodded towards Maeve while making eye contact with the other guardian. This was going to be unpleasant to say the least.

  Samseil touched Maeve's elbow. When she didn't pull away, he helped lift her to her feet. She was shivering. Samseil opened his leathery cape and tucked her into the warmth of his chest. He wrapped his arms around her. His humming made her think of children's laughter and she didn't notice that he was naked under the robe. When his touch would normally have shocked her, this time it soothed.

  Aaron started screaming but the guardian would not let her turn to look. JD and Lucas stared as milky froth boiled up out of the newly reopened cuts of Aaron's back; the poison was being pushed from his body. Obviously it hurt. Lucas threw up.

  When the screaming stopped, Maeve opened her eyes. She hadn't realized she'd been clenching them closed. She was eye level with Samseil's stomach. Had he always been this tall, she wondered. Then something even more odd registered. “Are you glowing?”

  “They both are.” JD's voice was small like he didn't want to get noticed but couldn't help but say something.

  Maeve
took a step back and then another. What she saw in Samseil's face scared her. The rumbling voice of a stranger made her spin around. “Ki sent us.” Three more guardians, huge and glowing, stood in the basement. They'd appeared out of thin air apparently.

  “We are under attack, brothers. The Shinar have found a vessel and will attempt to come through.” Maeve, JD, Lucas and Aaron blinked and found themselves unable to open their eyes. They could hear what was going on but couldn't see. Samseil continued, “The Holy Father's blood opened the portal. We will use its strength to close it as Ki would have us do.”

  The four guardians excluding the healer each took an urn from the corners of the alter. They drank deeply, draining them quickly. The newest three bit their wrists in turn and made an offering of their own blood on Aaron's back.

  When Maeve, JD and Lucas opened their eyes only the healer remained. He was helping Aaron sit up. Maeve wanted to hug him but feared hurting him further. Actually, now that she was close she could see that his wounds were mostly healed. With a shower he might have looked almost normal. That was good since they still had a wedding to get to.

  Chapter 16

  “Fuck you assholes! I'm going to kick the shit out of you cocksuckers!” A steady stream of obscenities had started pouring out of Tara Kay's mouth as soon as the SOFE had bound her and had not stopped since. “Dry it up”, she commanded. The girl beside her was crying. Worthless fucking water witches, Kay thought.

  Why had she evaded the tracking spell? She had known it was in that tea Ingrid had given her. She was angry with herself. If she got out of this, she was going to give up her stubborn ways. She might even go beg the Abbess to forgive her and take her back. But those were thoughts for another time. Right now she really needed to get away.

  She looked at her legs again for the hundredth time. Her feet were sunk down in the soggy earth up to her ankles. The ground was saturated with blood in a large circle around a flat stone. It splashed red up on her legs when the girl on her other side struggled. Good for you, fire witch, she thought. At least she was trying something, even if it was futile.

  Their feet wouldn't budge. Well, that wasn't entirely true: she could move forward toward the center but nothing would make her get closer to that psycho. He was waiving that white and red dagger, dancing around, fighting invisible enemies.

  I'm going to get killed by fucking Don Quixote, she thought.

  She almost smirked but then something happened. A thin trail of light replaced a spot where the knife had been. She thought it was a falling star at first but it hadn't gone away. In fact it grew. Longer and wider, the light coming from it was beautiful. It was calling her. She took a few steps forward before she realized what she was doing and could stop herself.

  The gap wasn't growing. It was being pulled open. From the inside. Tara Kay stared as an elongated hand seemingly made of light reached out to her. At first she could only feel elated but then she felt what was really happening. That thing with the glowing hand was pulling from her. She had never felt her magic before, not like a part of her body, but now that it was being taken she could feel the invisible appendage.

  She shrieked as her ability was torn from her.

  The SOFE, not bound in the blood circle but standing around them watching, began to scream too. Apparently they hadn't known whatever they were letting out was going to take from all of them. Tara Kay could only think one thing. The gods of old wanted what was stolen from them. The thought didn't make any sense to her but she only had a second to think about its absurdity.

  An angel stepped in front of her, cutting off whatever connection the hand had with everyone. The pain stopped, but she felt weak. The giant man was nude and had his arms and wings out spread eagle. His fingers just barely touched another man doing the same on either side of him. They all stepped forward, closing the circle, their bat-like wings overlapping.

  The blood disappeared from around their legs as the angels closed ranks. She was free, but she couldn't leave. She heard singing. No, it was more than that. Every sound she heard was involved. Every breeze, car horn, and cricket was intricately woven into the sound. It was more beautiful than anything she'd ever heard before, and all she could think about was going home. She had to get back to family land. Where was she? Who were these people?

  The light emanating from the center of the angels brightened, silhouetting them against it, and then it dimmed and died away. There were other people standing around but no one could remember what they were doing there. Tara Kay certainly didn't notice that the dancing Don Quixote had disappeared into the light. She walked out barefooted past the house to her car without questioning anyone. She got in her Chevette and started it up. She drove home.

  ***

  Nathalia sat at her vanity and studied herself in the mirror. She let her hair down out of the knot she had been using to keep away bad dreams and set to brushing it out. It took some time; her hair had gotten quite long and she liked it. It wasn't as dark or shiny as Maeve's, but it was thick and healthy. It was better than Maeve's for knotting because of that. Maeve's always just slipped out of whatever they put it in. Hanging straight down her back was about all they could do with it, but Nathalia's was coarser and therefore more pliant.

  She sat there twisting a section of it around and around her finger. It looked pretty like this. She looked like a medieval maiden on her wedding day. She allowed herself a few moments vanity before putting it back up. She was deft at the elaborate up-do and it was knotted in no time.

  At first she thought she was hallucinating when she saw a sliver of light hovering behind her reflected in the mirror. A hand came through the sliver, then a hand holding a knife. Soon a man stood silhouetted and when the slit closed and she recognized the face in the mirror. “Hello, Nathalia.”

  Nathalia jumped at the softly spoken words in what she had assumed was her empty bedchamber. With the exception of her nightmares, she hadn't heard it in years but she knew that voice. This was no visual hallucination; it had sound. This was real. Michael had found her.

  The man who loved to hurt her was in her room. The man who butchered her parents was smiling. His grinning face in the mirror was terrifying. She could call for help, but the alarm was on the other side of the room. He must have seen her looking that direction.

  He shrugged. “Sure the guards would kill me, but how many of your beloved sisters could I take down before they did? Let's just keep tonight between the two of us.”

  She nodded. She fought to keep herself from shaking as he ran the knife down her face and neck. The blade wasn't cold like she expected. In fact, it felt warm, almost alive. She watched it's dull bleached patina in the mirror. He used it to trace the neckline of her gown, pealing it back to get a better look at her. He rubbed his knuckles, wrapped tightly around the knife hilt, on her bare skin. “I missed ya. D'ya miss me?”

  Again, she nodded. She knew him and if she could keep from looking scared or crying, even if she really was on the inside, he would get bored and stop. Eventually.

  “The tough act ain't gonna work tonight. If I think you're lying to me or working your hoodoo, I'll bust your ass. When in doubt, I knock you out.”

  Michael kept the knife hooked in the crux of his thumb but flattened his hand so that his palm was pressed against her chest. He slid the hand into the bodice of her gown. He gripped her breast roughly, pinching the nipple between his first and second finger. The sharpened edge of the dagger sliced through the seam of her dress.

  His gaze was on her hair. He looked with hatred at the knot. “I miss being inside your head. I look forward to climbing inside and making a home there.” He slapped the scissors down on the vanity in front of her. “Cut it.”

  She picked up the scissors and for a split second thought about stabbing him. He knew she had grown strong and rebellious over their years apart. He grabbed a fistful of her hair in the back and pushed her head forward, smashing it into the wooden vanity. He yanked her head back. The impact had
split her forehead open and a trickle of blood ran between her eyes, down her nose and onto her lips. Michael leaned around and kissed her, “Your blood's even sweeter than your tears. I am gonna get my fill of both tonight.” He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked on it. “I want this gone. You can do it or I can, but if you make me do it, you're gonna regret it.”

  She just had to stall long enough to come up with a plan. Her hair was a small loss if it bought her the time she needed. “No, I'll do whatever you say.”

  He grinned. “I know.”

  She forced herself to cut her hair off. While she was busy, he studied, running his hands, one still holding the knife, all over her. She knew he was reacquainting himself with her body and making plans for pain he would cause her.

  Section by section, Nathalia lopped off her locks at the root until there was no more than an inch of hair anywhere on her head and still she had no plan. When she was done, she threw the scissors across the room and they slid under the bed.

  His empty hand shot out and grabbed her by the throat. He clenched down, cutting off her air supply, and lifted her by the neck up into a standing position facing him. Gasping, she used both her hands to try to pull his away and get some air. He liked the panic in her eyes and squeezed tighter, pushing her back towards the bed. “Don't act like you don't want this. I can smell how excited you are.”