by Tessa Dawn
He wouldn’t hurt her.
Not now.
Not yet.
Not until he had the answers to his unspoken questions.
Deanna sighed, trying to slow her heart rate down. “What now?” she asked, knowing that however things proceeded, the brother—Kagen—would be in charge.
Kagen gestured toward the counter full of medical supplies. “First…before we do anything…I need to draw some of your blood.”
“My blood?” she asked, immediately concerned. “Why? What are you looking for?” Was mental illness detectable through a blood test? Was he going to drug her? Maybe even kill her after all? What in the hell was—
“Deanna, you will sleep for a time, while I run some tests, try to figure some things out.”
“Sleep?” Deanna echoed. “I don’t think—” He caught her just as she staggered forward, her head lolling to the side. “What did you do?” she whispered.
“Shh,” he responded. “You will sleep without dreams, and you will not awaken until I call your name.”
“But what…what…” Her words trailed off as the entire world began to fade into various shades of gray.
“Don’t be afraid,” he answered as if from a great distance. “I’m going to test your blood for traces of Celestial DNA.”
And then the entire world went black.
five
Kagen Silivasi laid Deanna Dubois down ever so gently on a clean hospital bed in the empty room next to Nachari’s. As he carefully unwrapped a plastic hub, a hypodermic needle, and a vacuum tube from a blood draw kit, he called out telepathically to his eldest brother Marquis and his twin Nathaniel: Brothers…are you there?
Marquis responded in less than thirty seconds. What is it, Healer? Is something wrong with Nachari?
I’m here, brother, Nathaniel chimed in, his psychic voice appropriately concerned.
Kagen sighed, searching for the right words to convey all that he needed to tell them, hoping to bring them up to speed succinctly and with minimal drama. Nachari is fine…there has been no change in his physical health. However, something rather…unusual…has come up.
Unusual? How so? Nathaniel asked.
Marquis remained silent, listening attentively, assessing with a keen ear as always.
Kagen sat down beside the hospital bed, rolled up Deanna’s sleeve, and applied an alcohol wipe to her inner arm, just above her brachial artery. I’m not sure exactly how to say this, but a human woman came to the clinic today looking for Nachari.
Does she belong to one of the human families that serve the Vampyr? Nathaniel asked. Perhaps she just wanted to visit—
No, brother, Kagen interrupted. She came to the clinic pretending to be a CNA looking for a job: She had no idea what we were or what the clinic was all about. When Katia tried to scare her away—rather forcefully, I might add—she changed course and pretended to be a government agent following up on patient complaints about the clinic. At that point, Katia came to get me.
Nathaniel whistled low beneath his breath. Humans, he said absently.
Go on, Marquis barked, a hint of impatience in his voice.
Kagen inserted the hypodermic needle cleanly into Deanna’s vein, added the vacuum tube to the end, and began to draw a vial of blood. Needless to say, I knew something was up. And actually, so did the human—the moment she saw me. For whatever reason, my presence spooked her, and she decided to take off running. That’s when she dropped a case full of drawings on the floor. They were pencil and charcoal sketches of Nachari, depicting him quite accurately on that…horrible day in the meadow.
What did you say? Marquis asked, grunting his concern. The Ancient Master Warrior’s hearing was both heightened and flawless, so Kagen knew he had heard him clearly the first time.
I said the woman had a series of drawings portraying Nachari in the meadow the day he followed Napolean to the Spirit World. She also had some other pictures of him—scenes I haven’t really had a chance to look at yet—not sure if I want to.
What kind of scenes? Nathaniel asked. His voice was laced with dismay.
Kagen shook his head as he rose from the chair and plopped the vial in a sterile plastic bag. He placed a small cotton ball over the needle-prick and applied pressure; then, he covered the wound with a Band-Aid and left Deanna in the room to sleep while he headed for the lab to analyze the blood. The drawing I saw was of the ground opening up and swallowing our brother; the woman depicted several demonic hands reaching up to grab him. He didn’t want to repeat what Deanna had said to him, but there was no point in mincing words—his brothers needed to know the full scope of what was happening. When I asked her about it, she said Nachari was a man who was being ‘tortured in hell.’
A low, feral growl rumbled in Marquis’s throat, even as Nathaniel inadvertently hissed.
What the hell was that supposed to mean? Nathaniel asked.
Who is she? What is she? Marquis demanded.
Kagen sighed. She’s human, rest assured. By way of explanation, he added, My immediate concern was that she had been sent by the Dark Ones—perhaps she was being used as a minion…or worse: Perhaps she was a tool for some sort of Black Magick, another possession spell or gods-know-what, sent here to mess with our heads…or get to Nachari.
And how do you know that’s not the case, brother? Nathaniel asked.
Because I dove very deeply into her mind, Kagen answered emphatically.
As a vampire, the ability to dissect a human’s brain, to discern the truth of their actions and words, was an inherent ability; however, it often caused pain or distress for the human and was strongly frowned upon by Law as a breach of free will. Unless it was absolutely necessary, the sons of Jadon tried very hard to respect a human’s right to privacy. However, the good of the people always came first, and as a Master Healer, Kagen had been trained to move more swiftly and deeply than most, leaving very little trace of the invasion as he entered. Had any other vampire scrutinized Deanna’s mind as deeply as Kagen had in those first critical moments, she may have passed out—or even suffered an aneurism. But as it stood, a piercing headache was all he had left in his wake.
The moment I suspected she was here to harm Nachari, I took her memories.
And? Marquis asked.
And, toward the end, she was telling the truth. She is a human female who has been drawing these strange illustrations for months now. She’s confused. She’s terrified. And frankly, she thinks she’s going mad because the images won’t stop haunting her. She came to Dark Moon Vale to try and find answers, and her search led her to the clinic. He paused, remembering Deanna’s reaction to the sight of Nachari lying in the hospital bed, connected to so many monitors. And, you should have seen her reaction when I took her into Nachari’s room. She was…devastated.
What do you mean? Nathaniel asked.
She recognized him…from her drawings…the images in her mind. And she was absolutely grief-stricken by his condition. There was nothing fake about it. Her emotions were far too real…incredibly raw.
Where is she now? Marquis asked.
She’s sleeping in exam room one.
Under compulsion? Marquis asked.
Of course, Kagen answered.
Nathaniel sighed. So what do you make of it?
The truth? Kagen asked.
No, lie to us, Marquis snorted, his impatience finally getting the best of him.
Kagen let it slide. They were all accustomed to Marquis’s special personality, and they all knew that underneath the harsh, brusque exterior was an endless well of hyper-protectiveness. And love. I think this woman is deeply connected to our brother, Kagen said. And I haven’t looked at all of her drawings yet, but I think she may know more about what is happening to him—why and how his spirit is stuck—than the rest of us.
How is that possible? Nathaniel asked. I mean, it’s true; we have met some humans with unique psychic abilities lately, but this? Seems a bit much to me.
I agree, Marquis snorted
. This kind of information can only come from the source…perhaps Salvatore Nistor…or the Dark Lord Ademordna. Are you sure she isn’t connected to our dark brothers from the house of Jaegar somehow? What if she—
Is his destiny? Nathaniel interrupted.
The psychic connection went momentarily silent.
I’m ahead of you, twin, Kagen said. I don’t see any other way for the two of them to be so deeply connected.
There has been no Blood Moon, Marquis argued.
True, Kagen said, but think about it: Our destinies are chosen before their births. We are connected the moment the gods and goddesses select them. He absently ran his hand through his hair, massaging the base of his neck. Even though we don’t meet them—have any way to recognize them—prior to the Blood Moon, the bond is already established. It’s…inbred. He paused, searching for the right way to express his thoughts more clearly. What if whatever has happened to Nachari—whatever is occurring on a spiritual level—is so strong…so elemental, so to speak…that it has somehow awakened or tapped into the bond between our little brother and his chosen female. He thought more about it, and another idea suddenly came to him. Nachari is a wizard, he said. That means he plays in a realm we don’t even begin to understand. What if—somehow—he is reaching out to her, using that primordial connection, or even her existence, to try to get through to us from whatever realm he is in. I don’t know, but I’m telling you: You had to see her face. Feel her emotions. She was driven…and devastated.
Nathaniel blew out a long, contemplative breath. Okay, so…what next?
There is no definitive way to tell if a female belongs to a vampire before the Blood Moon, Marquis insisted. There is no way to prove your theory. Marquis Silivasi was a brilliant tactician and thus, a male of logic. He preferred to stick to the facts—and only the facts.
Kagen said.True…and false,
True because? Nathaniel prompted before Marquis could argue.
Because only the Celestial deities know the true identity of each male’s destiny: Marquis is right about that.
And false…why? Nathaniel prompted.
Because every woman destined to be the mate of one of our males is both chosen—and marked—by the gods before birth. As we all know, they are human but not. They are compatible to us through their—
Celestial DNA, Marquis supplied the answer. Have you tested her blood yet?
Doing it as we speak, Kagen responded.
And if it’s positive, Nathaniel quipped, then we know for sure that she is a human destiny, but we still don’t have proof that she belongs specifically to Nachari.
Correct, Kagen said.
Marquis sighed. If it’s positive, then the combination of physical corroboration and circumstantial evidence is adequate for me.
Kagen rolled his eyes: And Marquis was always ordering everyone else to speak plainly? Yes, he said. Good enough for me, too. Certainly enough for us to act upon.
Keep her detained, Marquis said adamantly, issuing the statement as a direct order. We will be there immediately.
Actually, give me ten minutes, Nathaniel said.
You will not take ten minutes—you will go now, Marquis barked.
Marquis… Nathaniel sounded slightly exasperated.
Chill, big brother, Kagen added. It can wait ten minutes. It’ll take me a little while to finish analyzing this sample anyhow, and I’d like to collect the rest of those drawings as soon as I’m done.
Five minutes, Marquis said, brooking no arguments.
Kagen shrugged. Marquis was intense as usual, but it did make sense…sort of. If Deanna was Nachari’s destiny, then her life was Nachari’s life. She could not be permitted to leave their sight, and she certainly needed protection from their enemies while they sorted things out. Marquis was no-nonsense about those kinds of matters, especially since the loss of Shelby, and there was nothing anyone was going to say or do to change his perspective. Very well, Kagen said. I’ll see you both in five minutes.
Nathaniel chuckled, his laid-back, relaxed manner emerging in the end. As you have spoken, Master Warrior, he said, using the formal language of the house of Jadon to goad Marquis.
I see no humor in this, Nathaniel, Marquis replied.
Ahh, Nathaniel quipped. And this surprises me…not at all.
And then they all grew quiet…
Because it occurred to each of them at the same time that this was the point where Nachari would have stepped in with his lighthearted humor, had he been there, to tease Marquis relentlessly. Perhaps he would have suggested that Marquis seek professional help; or maybe he would have sought to appease Nathaniel with some off-handed story about some silly command Marquis had given him in the past. One way or another, Nachari would have made light of the whole situation, bonding the brothers together with humor, while smoothing over the rough edges, because that was what he did.
Nachari was the peacemaker.
The calm within the storm.
And he brought the warmth of the sun into their tight-knit family. At times like these, his absence was felt profoundly. And didn’t that just bring Marquis’s domineering protectiveness back into perspective for all of them?
I will be there in five, Marquis, Nathaniel repeated, piercing the silence. This time, his tone was both acquiescent and respectful. Be well, Master Warrior, he added with formality.
And you, Nathaniel, Marquis responded in kind.
Brothers, Kagen said in parting.
And then he closed the telepathic connection.
six
Marquis Silivasi sat back in the large leather armchair in the clinic’s waiting room across from the terrified woman and crossed his muscular arms. They had been at it all day: questioning Deanna, digging for information, feeling her out for subtle inconsistencies in her story.
There were none.
She was exactly who she said she was, and her story matched the information Kagen had taken from her mind earlier that day…to a tee. He rubbed his chin lightly with his thumb while measuring the woman for the umpteenth time, categorizing every nuance of her personality—the way she moved, the fluctuations in her voice, the peaks and valleys of her heartbeat…the body language that revealed far more than her words ever could.
Deanna Dubois was an exceptional woman but in an understated way. To begin with, she came from an unusual mixed heritage. Her flawless skin was the color of coffee, heavily loaded with cream, and the splendidly exotic nature of her features spoke of at least three different racial influences: Her heavily-lidded, bluish-gray eyes reminded him of those he had seen on the original Spanish Conquistadors; her imminently straight, sculpted nose and her full, heart-shaped lips spoke of more than one French ancestor; and her long, deep brown tresses, littered with natural brushed-gold highlights, had just enough texture to betray some African-American ancestry as well. Overall, it was a devastating combination—not unusual to find in New Orleans—and Deanna carried it all on her five-foot-ten frame like an international model. If the Celestial deities had tried to match Nachari’s rare good looks with a human female’s, then they had done a stellar job.
But Deanna was more than just an exotic beauty. She was supremely confident, despite the unsettling situation she found herself in, and she had an insightful, clever mind that revealed a great deal of intelligence. She was both articulate and smooth, like one who had been educated in the back alleys of life as well as the stuffy universities. However, she was only twenty-three years old, so much of her astuteness had to be innate. Again, she would be a perfect match for Nachari—if, in fact, she was his destiny.
Her blood test had come back positive for traces of Celestial DNA.
And even though the brothers had suspected as much, they had still stared at the results with both shock and awe. After all, randomly testing human women had never been done before; the concept just didn’t make sense. Not only would the sons of Jadon have to sort through millions of women before they found one single match, but the positive
result would tell them nothing about whom the human female belonged to—which vampire she was destined to mate. Seeing such results before the Blood Moon’s omen was as astonishing as it was unsettling.
The woman straightened her back and forced an insincere smile. “It’s getting dark outside,” she said, gesturing toward a window. “I really need to get going.”
Marquis sighed and shook his head. “No.”
Kagen leaned forward in his seat and cleared his throat. “I think what my brother means to say is we haven’t sorted through all of this yet; we would appreciate a little more of your time.”
Marquis shrugged impatiently. “I think what I meant was no.”
Deanna narrowed her eyes and gave Marquis an angry, albeit frightened, glare. “You can’t keep me here.” She put it as a statement, but the inflection in her voice made it a question.
Marquis didn’t flinch. “We haven’t decided yet…where you will be allowed to go.”
Her face paled, and unconcealed fear washed through her eyes. She looked from one male to other, pleading with her gaze.
Nathaniel licked his lips and shifted languidly in his seat. “Ms. Dubois,” he purred in a faintly seductive tone, though absent of compulsion, “you don’t need to be afraid. We don’t mean you any harm. It’s just”—he paused as if searching for the precise words—“it’s just that Nachari’s well-being is our foremost concern, and you must admit, there is something…unusual…going on here.”
“Unusual?” Deanna said, her mouth falling open. “Unusual?” She stood up abruptly. “You guys are scaring the hell out of me!” She turned to face Kagen. “I’m sorry I came to your clinic, and I’m sorry I lied to you to gain access.” She placed the palm of her hand against her diaphragm as if to force herself to calm down. “Obviously, I was little freaked out myself by my drawings…and your brother. But I’ve answered all of your questions. More than once. And you haven’t answered any of mine. So, as far as I’m concerned, we’re not going to get any further tonight.” Her shoulders sagged. “I’m tired. I’m hungry. And I just want to go back to my cabin and get some rest.”
