by Amy Sumida
“My gheara mark”-Banning waved to the one I'd recognized-“and marks for my gura,” indicating swaths of designs below it. “But this one is for you.” He pointed to a tattoo of a woman, near the bottom of his upper arm.
My eyes lost focus for a second, and then the image became glaringly clear. It was me. The blooder had a portrait of me tattooed on his gods-damned arm! All black and gray wash, with my eyes done in their odd, bluish-purple color. The face was remarkably similar, but it was the eyes that sealed it. I'd never met anyone with eyes like mine.
“I had it made from an old painting of you. I wanted you with me forever,” Banning went on. “After I left, I promised myself that I would never be weak again, and I would never live with regrets. So before I solidified my gura, I went back to London, and I killed Cosmina.”
Why did hearing that make my blood race with satisfaction?
“It was why that army came for me.” He shook his head. “I avenged you, and it brought you back to me. I cannot believe this to be anything but fate. You are Fortune returned, and I have brought you proof.”
He reached to the bedside table, and picked something up. It was laid down flat, a little leather book, so I hadn't noticed it before. He opened it, and revealed a miniature painting. Maybe eight inches tall. It was of a couple in Elizabethan dress. They looked supremely happy. The man was obviously Banning, and the woman was me. It was identical to the tattoo.
“I knew the tattoo would be too modern to prove anything to you,” Banning said softly. “But this painting is something you can verify. You can have an expert examine it, and they'll tell you the same thing I will, that the date inscribed here”-he tapped the bottom of the painting, where the artist had signed the piece with the year 1753- “is accurate. This is Fortune, and it's also you, Elaria. Look closely at it.” He angled the painting beneath the light.
Every feature of the woman's face matched mine, down to the freckle I had on my right cheek. Banning propped open the painting on the bedside table. I stared at it in shock as he got up from the bed.
Banning went to my feet first, undoing the straps that held me. Then he removed my gag. I flexed my jaw and wet my lip as he leaned across me to undo the wrist restraints. He was freeing me, just as he'd promised. It was brave and kind of stupid. But then, he hadn't really offered me any harm. I didn't have a good reason to kill him, not really. I sat up, and stared from him to the painting as I rubbed my wrists.
“Did I make them too tight?” Banning gestured to my wrists. “I'm sorry I resorted to such treatment of you. I understand if you feel the need to strike out at me. I will not defend myself.”
“Are you seriously trying to pull a Dracula on me?” I finally asked.
I was scared. He had truly frightened me with this tale of doomed love and reincarnation . . . and the images it brought forth in my head. When I'm scared, I react with bravado. I make jokes or offer insults. But Banning didn't seem to understand this one.
“What are you talking about?”
“Dracula and Mina?” I huffed. “Mina is his wife, and she commits suicide because she thinks Drac is dead. But he really isn't, and he comes home, and lashes out against god, who turns him into a vampire. Then Dracula finds Mina again, in fucking London, no less. His reincarnated bride.”
“That's not the story of Dracula.” Banning frowned.
“Of course it is.” I grimaced. “I've watched all of the movies, even the new one with that hot guy from Lord of the Rings.”
“The movies are inaccurate.” Banning started arguing with me like we'd known each other for years. “The original story has no previous relationship between Dracula and Mina. In fact, Mina is the one who helps Van Helsing find Dracula, and Dracula pursues her to punish her for it.”
“Well, I'm not talking about the book,” I crossed my arms.
“The movie is a coincidence.” His forehead creased in thought. “Perhaps someone got wind of my story and told it to the producers.”
“Now you're saying you are Dracula,” I laughed.
“No, I” He stopped and started to laugh. “This is just as we were before. The only thing that's changed is the language.”
“Don't do that.” I pointed at him. “I don't believe in reincarnation.”
“How can you not?” Banning looked shocked. “You've been to the other worlds, haven't you? You've seen the souls in their heavens. And their hells.”
“It just proves that there are souls,” I shrugged.
“Aren't you descended from Greek sirens?” Banning tried again. “The Greek gods send souls back to be reborn, don't they?”
“Yes to the first.” I frowned. “I'm not sure on the second.”
“You're not sure?” Banning laughed. “I thought sirens were the companions of Persephone? Your people would know better than most.”
“Mom never really talked about souls,” I said. “And Persephone is kind of, well, annoying. I don't hang with her anymore.”
“The Greek Goddess of Spring is annoying?” Banning burst into laughter.
“Yeah.” I broke my stern resolve, and chuckled a little. “She's like a diva florist.”
“Elaria”-his expression softened-“I know Fortune. She was the love of my life. Not a moment goes by that I don't see her face in my mind.”
“Or on your arm.” I nodded pointedly to the tattoo.
“You are her.” He ignored my attempt at levity. I started to protest, but he held up his hand to stop me. “I know this is a lot to process. Take your time. I've said everything I wanted you to hear, and I will be content knowing that you understand what you mean to me.” He took my hand and kissed it, as he had when we'd first met. But this time, it felt even more intimate. “If nothing else happens between us, I will still be eternally grateful to know that you live again. To see you, be here with you, is miraculous.”
“Banning”-I shook my head-“I'm not your girl.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Even if I did believe in reincarnation,” I huffed, “and I'm not saying I do. But if I did, this still makes no sense. Why would a soul return to life inside a body that looks exactly like her old one, except it's an entirely new race? Do you know how rare my kind is? Do you know how many spellsingers have ever been born?”
“I believe . . . six.”
“Six.” I frowned when I realized he'd gotten it right. “Yeah, I'm number six. Ever. Just enough of us to have a name for our kind, though not enough to procreate and really make it a race.”
“I don't know why you were born in the same form.” He shrugged. “Perhaps so that I would know you. I dare say, even had you been born in a different body, I would have recognized your soul eventually, had I been given the opportunity to speak with you. But you weren't going to allow that.”
“So what?” I scoffed. “You think that destiny or fate or whatever put me in this body just for you?”
“Yes.” He smiled.
“Rather arrogant,” I observed.
“Not arrogance in the way you mean,” he said confidently. “It's arrogance in our love. That's how strong it is, Elaria. If fate ever made an exception, it would be for us.”
“You're mistaken,” I said gently. “I'm sorry, but you are. I'm not Fortune.”
“You are my love, Elaria.” Banning stood. “I know you. I can feel you here.” He laid his hand to his chest. “And I have faith that someday you will remember who you are. Who you were. When that day comes, I shall be waiting.”
He pulled on his shirt and headed to the door.
“Wait,” I called after him. “Your painting.”
I held the leather-bound portrait out to him.
“That one belonged to Fortune,” Banning said. “Therefore, it's yours. As is everything else that once belonged to her.”
He closed the door on my stunned face.
Chapter Six
I knew I was dreaming. Still, it felt so real. More like a memory than a dream. The air was scented with expensive p
erfume: jasmine, rose, and musk. Beneath it was the sharp tinge of unwashed bodies, and farther beneath that was the aroma of old blood. Strange. I couldn't remember the last time I'd noticed scents in a dream.
“There you are.” The male voice was low and familiar, both to me and in its tone with me. There was the knowing sound of intimacy within it, and a purr that heralded more to come. I turned toward the man expectantly.
He was blooder-blond, the color a lot of vampire hair turned when their original shade had been a blander, human version. The magic infusing blooders with immortality also liked to enhance what Mother Nature had given them. Blond turned into something more golden, more gleaming, and more glossy. Something too beautiful to be natural. Yet no one questioned it. To question would lead to receiving answers, and most people in Elizabethan London didn't really want to know the truth.
“Banning,” I purred back as I leaned into him and drew my hand over his body.
His clothes merely hinted at the amazing physique beneath, and I couldn't resist a little reminder of what I'd be holding later that evening. Wait. My mind balked a moment. This was only a . . .
“Dream.” Banning kissed the sensitive spot just beneath my ear.
“What was that?” I asked.
“I said, you look like a walking dream.” He frowned at me, then looked me over carefully. “Have you partaken today?”
“Yes... I think so.”
“Come, my love, let's get you another drink.” He slipped my arm around his, my long fingers curling into the silk velvet of his jacket as if they'd done so a million times before.
I rubbed the fabric absently. They didn't make velvet like that anymore. Anymore? What was I thinking?
“Fortune?”
Banning was suddenly standing beside a young woman, holding her hand, and I found myself taking her pale palm from him. I turned her hand over, but instead of biting her wrist, I yanked her up against me, and latched onto her neck. Banning loved watching me feed on women. Softness against softness, he called it. I loved Banning watching me, so I tended to make a performance of it. I focused on his gaze as I drank, enjoying the way his eyes went from emerald to a deeper, forest green. Lust was practically pouring off him.
And the blood. I groaned, and sucked harder, closing my eyes to the sensations. Salty sweetness that tasted like magic, heaven, and sex all in one. It filled my mouth as the power of it filled my body. Heat surged through me, making me feel alive again, not just a cold corpse. I opened my eyes to find Banning breathing hard, his jaw clenched, and a bead of sweat dripping down his temple. I released the woman, and licked the last drop of blood from her throat. She fainted, and I casually helped her sit on a nearby bench.
“Shall we?” Banning held his hand out to me, and I took it silently.
We moved through the shadowed halls like phantoms, until the golden lights of thousands of candles lured us into the grand ballroom. Music poured out even farther than the grasping light, its bright notes touching our ears long before the candlelight hit our feet. As soon as we stepped within the room, the music boiled up around us. The scent of hot wax, flesh, and heady perfume circled on the lazy eddies of air. Bodies pressed close, laughter even closer, but Banning navigated us expertly out into the flow of dancers.
One arm went tight around my waist, almost imprisoning me with its vehemence. Another lifted to hang suspended at our sides, and I clasped it with my own. Even with the layers of clothes separating us, Banning managed to pull me in tight enough to feel his excitement. I sighed, my hips angling farther into him as he led us around the floor. The musicians played vibrantly, yet I could still hear the tinkling of crystal from the chandeliers above us. Everything called out to me, clamoring for attention. It was always like this after a long drink.
And Banning knew it.
“Your lips looked so lovely on her neck,” he whispered into my ear. “Stretched tight. Sucking.”
I chuckled, knowing exactly where he was leading me.
“I am enjoying the dance, Banning,” I chided him. “Stop trying to lure me away from it.”
“A little longer then.” He swung me around. “But I hope you shall take pity on me soon. We can find an empty room.”
“I'd prefer an empty corner.” I smiled wickedly. “I saw one in the hall we passed through.”
“Now you seek to make me spill before we even leave the ballroom,” he growled.
“As if you are some young country lad.” I cast my eyes upward. “You know more about drawing out pleasure than most men in this room.”
“You give me far too much credit,” he admonished, but smiled as he did so.
“Do I?” I shocked him by taking the lead and steering us off the dance floor. “Maybe I'll put that to the test. Shall we see how long you can last with my lips locked upon your staff?”
Banning's eyes flared vivid green. “An inspired idea, my love.”
We hurried out of the room, running through the hallways like a couple of young lovers off for a secret rendezvous. Finally, I found the spot I was seeking, and pushed Banning up against the stone wall. My hands went to his breeches, expertly undoing the laces as I fell to my knees. Just before I took him in my mouth, I looked up to see his eyes glowing in the shadows.
“I shall last as long as you want me to,” he promised, “my sweet Fortune.”
I came gasping awake. My skin slicked with sweat, my breath rasping out of my chest furiously, and I was as turned on as Banning had been in that dream. At least I hoped it was just a dream.
“A fucking Blooder ball,” I muttered. “Parasitic bastards. There's no way I was one of them. No fucking way.”
I didn't get much more sleep that night. I kept looking over at the antique painting. The resemblance was uncanny, but was it really me? Was I Banning's blooder girlfriend brought back to life? No. Even if I was, I wasn't interested in him anymore.
A sharp pain flared in my chest. I sat up and gasped.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” I asked the early dawn.
I looked down at my shaking hands, and then at the happy painting. With one smack, I closed it and knocked it over. That made me feel a little better. But the sun was rising in Kansas, and as it crested over the treetops, I thought of the Blooder king who was just now going to sleep beneath that ridiculous country club of his. All those people would be scurrying about, chasing tiny balls into holes in the ground, while beneath them, an entire gura of blooders bunked down for the day.
Suddenly, I wanted to get as far away from Kansas as I could. I reached for my phone, and hit Cerberus's number. He answered on the fifth ring.
“It's eight fucking thirty!” Cerberus snarled. “In the gods damned, motherfucking morning!”
“Yeah. Now you know how it feels, dog breath,” I laughed.
“I let you sleep till three before I showed up,” he groaned.
Someone murmured in the background.
“Go back to sleep; it's just work,” he said to them.
“Who are you talking to?” I asked with glee.
Cerberus groaned, and the sounds of a lumbering, giant, dog shifter came through the phone. I heard a door open and close before he spoke again.
“Some hottie I found on the way out of your hotel last night.” I could hear the smirk in his voice.
“You dog,” I chuckled.
“Guilty as charged,” he agreed. “Now, why are you really calling me, El? You wanna come over? I'll kick the bitch out for you.”
“She's not a bitch, or you wouldn't dare kick her out. You'd try to have little puppies with her,” I teased. “Oh, hey, Banning showed up here last night.”
“What?” Cer growled.
“Did you tell him where I was?”
“Fuck no.”
“Then you were followed, my friend,” I gave him the bad news with a huge amount of delight. It wasn't often that someone got the drop on Cer. Like never.
“No, I wasn't.”
“Yeah, you were.”
/>
“Nope, hell no. Not possible.”
“Either you were followed, or you told him where I was, Cerberus,” I snapped. “Because I woke up tied to the bed, gagged, with Banning between my legs.”
“What the fuck?” Cerberus roared.
“Yeah, but”
“What happened?” I heard a female voice ask.
“Get the fuck out!” Cer yelled at her.
The woman must have been smart, because she didn't argue. I heard a few running footsteps, and then a door slammed.
“What the fuck did you just say to me, Elaria?”
“He didn't hurt me.” I thought I'd better get that out before Cerberus had a meltdown. “Banning knew I'd shut him down with a song before he had a chance to speak. So he gagged me and tied me up, then he spoke to me.”
“And then?” Cerberus's voice had mellowed, but only slightly.
“And then he released me.”
“And you didn't kill him?” Cer sounded shocked.
“No,” I whispered. “It surprised me as well.”
“Holy fucking shit!” Cerberus swore. “Fuck! Fucking Hades! Fuck!”
“Would you please stop dropping f-bombs?” I asked dryly.
“It's true, isn't it?” Cer finally got some non curse words out. “You're his ex. You're a reincarnated blooder! Persephone's pink panties! This is un-fucking-believable.”
“I don't know.” I took a deep breath and finally admitted what I'd been thinking. “It's possible.”
“Holy fucking”
“All right, enough already,” I ground out.
“What are you going to do?”
“I'm leaving, of course,” I huffed. “I don't do blooders, remember?”
“Yeah, I wonder why that is.” Cerberus was sounding cocky again.
“What? You think I subconsciously wrote them off because I was waiting for Banning?”
“You said it, kid,” he chuckled. “You and Banning, eh? Interesting. I pictured you with someone bigger. Someone more like”
“You?” I asked with a laugh. “You would probably crush me.”
“As if Banning couldn't,” Cer snickered.
“I want you to contact that fairy,” I was done joking around.
