Blood Flows Deep in the Empire

by N. Isabelle Blanco

  She glared at him playfully. “One would be so lucky.”

  He watched as she slid into the spot next to him. “Aw, come on. You’ve been verbally abusing me from day one. Can’t you be nice to me in my last moments of my life?”

  It was true. Even during their brief relationship, if one could call it that, the woman had always had something smart to say about him. About everyone, for that matter.

  She looked up at him with a bullheaded expression. “You are not going to die. You and Ismini will be happy forever if I have anything to say about it.”

  His rib cage tightened around his lungs, cutting off his breath as he thought of his R’ma. “You know . . . when I first met Ismini, that’s one of the things that hit me the hardest. How much she wanted that for you and me despite the fact that it would cost her life.”

  Dimithinia stared at the ground, her brow furrowed. “I am nothing like that girl. Nothing. I . . . I am a monster,” she whispered. “I am a horrid abomination, and I have to live with that every second. In whatever form I exist, I have to live with my crimes. Not just the lives I took . . . the lives that were taken because of me. An entire empire. Thousands of people.”

  He couldn’t help but feel bad. He’d always known that her actions were incongruous with who she was. “I pushed you—”

  “You did no such thing. It was my fault. I was jealous, possessive, and already so close to madness by the time I met you. I thought I loved you but I . . .” She shook her head. “I was young and desperate. Miserable. You were the first to show me kindness outside of my one friend. And we both know he was killed months before the rest of us were. It was just you after that, and in my madness, I did not want to share that.”

  The sunlight glinted off her odd eyes, bringing out the blue and black tones in them. She’d always had a thick, black outline around her irises, but now that she had powers and her eyes glowed more, those outlines stood out starkly.

  “I hope what I said does not offend you. I care for you, Sal—Dyletri. I always will. But I was just desperate for someone who did not treat me as a queen or as a punching bag, I believe the term is, yes?”

  “Yes, that is it the term. And, no, I’m not offended. So Crius put your Aristi in front of a television so you could see the modern world?” he asked, steering the conversation in the direction he wanted it to go.

  “Oh, yes. He would carry my Aristi with him. He would take me out into the modern world. The movie theaters, I think they are called, are amazing with their huge screens!” Dimithinia spoke with all the excitement of a child.

  The image of Crius sitting in a dark movie theater with her orb was almost too odd to process. Dyletri smiled at that, which would have surprised him at any other time. It was funny how that fact would have caused him anger barely two weeks ago. “I never knew he took you out. Is that why you were mad that I brought you back?”

  She said nothing.

  “He cares for you, Dimithinia. And I get the feeling he’s the reason you know now you didn’t really love me back then, isn’t he?”

  “It does not matter now,” Dimithinia said, standing back up.

  “Why? Why doesn’t it matter? You have a body now. You two could try—”

  “No. He will never feel for me the way I feel for him. He might care, but that is it. He will never have me in this form. Besides, a monster like me does not deserve what you and Ismini now share.”

  “Dimithinia, why? Why won’t he—”

  “Just let it go, please?”

  Dyletri sighed but did as she asked. He knew damned well that she was thinking of Crius’s past. Of his last life and what had been done to him by the woman he’d adored.

  “We’re here,” Zen said, opening his eyes and standing up. His eyes were still flashing between red-and-black and blue-and-gray.

  Almost as if she were fully aware that he might be a danger to one such as her, Dimithinia took a step back away from him. Zen stopped, his expression regretful and solemn.

  “I will never hurt you, Dimithinia of Maleksoranial, as long as I still have some control. Regardless of what lies within me or what lies within you, I know you regret your actions.”

  Dimithinia nodded but didn’t say anything in return. The cockpit door flew open then, and Cy leaned out, a huge pair of headphones on his head.

  “Yo! Remember when you fuckers laughed at me and said I was wasting those two seconds of my time learning how to fly a plane even though I saw it was going to come in handy one day? Yeah, motherfuckers!”

  Ian’s hand appeared from the right and pushed Cy’s face back. “We can’t see the vortex in the daytime, but this gypsy mofo says we’re close!” he yelled out as he walked toward the back, leaving Cy in the cockpit to steer the plane.

  “Gypsy motherfucker? Fuck you! I am a seer, asswipe. A seer. Get it straight!”

  Dyletri ignored Cy’s usual ridiculousness and locked eyes with Zen. He nodded at Dyletri, his face as set and determined as Dyletri’s.

  Dy walked up to the cabin door, raised a Gnetica that the others helped reinforce, and popped the latch. The air outside roared as the seal was broken, but thanks to the Gnetica, none of them were sucked out.

  Ianthen came to a stop next to them, his too pale eyes staring out into the clouds passing by. “You two fuckers are crazy for attempting this, but I’m not going to act like I don’t understand why.”

  Zen and Dyletri exchanged a wide-eyed look. Cy stuck his head out again, and Dy saw the slack jaw he was sporting. The only person who didn’t seem surprised was Dimithinia, and that was because she had no idea how epic a statement that was coming from Ianthen, God of the Hunt. The dude used women. A womanizer, as Soleria had called him.

  The very woman who was responsible for whatever change Ian was going through.

  Oh shit.

  “She’s going to destroy him,” Zen mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

  “Fuck you, asshole, I heard that. And this isn’t about her,” Ian scoffed, even as his cheeks flushed.

  Dyletri laughed. The irony was too much. Soleria, a human who hated Ian’s type, had gotten to him. Even Zen started laughing.

  “Oh, this is going to be good.”

  “You know what?” Ian said. “We’re here. So both of you, do yourselves a favor and throw yourselves off this plane before I fucking do it for you. Oh, and Dy, I hope whatever Nylicia is doing to keep you healthy fails on you mid-fall, asshole.”

  Dyletri gave Ian the finger over his shoulder. He stared out into the open sky. He could feel the energy in the wind around them, but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly where it was from. “This is going to be difficult.”

  Dimithinia walked up behind them. “I can help. I will call out to the Illion and ask it to connect with the Fates. Nylicia told me I should be the one to do it.”

  “Why you?”

  “Something about the legend of the Szolites rising once more.”

  “Yes, but I always thought that was just that—a legend,” Dyletri said, staring down at her.

  “Apparently it is not, right? Now, I will call to the Illion, and I can also try to highlight where the exact vortex is.”

  “How are you going to do that?” Ian interrupted Dimithinia, his brow furrowed.

  Dimithinia held up her hand. A flare of dark purple energy appeared, tendrils like wisps of smoke as they curved around her fingers. “I have returned with many powers gifted to me by Nylicia, in accordance with Destiny. Many I do not yet understand, but I am very sure I can use this specific one to our advantage.”

  With that, she wedged her way between Zen and Dyletri and held out her hand in the desert sky.

  Chapter 27

  The energy that shot out from Dimithinia’s hand flew toward the front of the plane. It stopped suddenly and violently, as if it had collided with an invisible wall. Then the dark purple energy split in two different directions until a spiral formed. It stretched from the top of the Earth’s atmosphere and spread like a tornado unt
il it touched the mountain formations below.

  When Dyletri laid eyes on it, he felt like he’d been stabbed through the gut. Seeing it with his own eyes made it even more real. That was where it happened. That was where they’d thrown his R’ma in. It was almost enough to send him flying out of the plane right there.

  “We’re hunting them down and tearing the skin off their bones when this is over,” Dyletri growled.

  “Agreed,” Zen said, his black and red eyes locked on the same exact spot.

  Ian looked worried despite his earlier threats. “First off, you motherfuckers have to survive this.”

  “They will.”

  The group turned as one as Nylicia’s form shimmered into view. She nodded at Dyletri then stared at the energy vortex.

  “I’ve seen it. Just now, actually. This is going to hurt both of you. I have to work with the Illion to re-form their bodies within the vortex. Once you each latch on to their souls, you can’t let go until it’s done. I am not uniting with that damned force just to have you guys fuck it up. Got it? Don’t make this be in vain. Touching that thing is the last thing I want to do.” Nylicia’s lip curled as she stared into the vortex.

  Dyletri stared at Zen, not knowing what to say to that.

  “All right, Dimithinia. Get ready to summon the Illion. You two, when I give you the go ahead, jump in. You should recognize where their souls are immediately. Latch on as fast as you can, and remember—do not let go.”

  Dyletri focused on the vortex as Cy made a sharp right with the plane and they began flying in an arch next to it. Dimithinia called out in Ritrioan as he braced himself and focused on finding the exact spot where Ismini’s soul was.

  He knew the moment he found it, because the mark on his neck roared to life with a vengeance. He was almost knocked off his feet. He forced his body to stay upright and waited for Nylicia to tell him to go.

  He was out of the plane the moment she gave the signal.

  The power of the vortex was both catastrophic and awe-inspiring. It tore at his skin and threatened to displace him. He gritted his teeth and ignored the pain, sending out a pulse of his own power just as Zen dropped into the vortex behind him.

  Dyletri forced himself to stay focused on the spot where he sensed Ismini. The moment he saw the tiny spark, a spark that his own soul jumped up and recognized, he slammed another wave of energy behind him and used it to propel himself. It wasn’t enough, though. The energy of the vortex pummeled his flesh and pushed him backward.

  Furious and determined, Dyletri sent out wave after wave of energy, fighting to move forward.

  He pushed his way toward Ismini’s spark. Blood poured out of numerous wounds and whatever Nylicia had done to give him strength wore off. For a second, he doubted he was going to make it.

  Then, Dyletri came within arm’s reach of Ismini’s soul, and it was enough. He let out a cry, forcing the last of his energy out of his body in one huge sonic wave.

  The moment his hand wrapped around the energy that made up her soul, a shock of new energy went through him. His entire body was galvanized. The R’mmanev went from being his enemy to his ally in one second flat. One moment he was sick and weak, the next he was recharged and in fucking control.

  The problem was his biological form. He couldn’t allow himself to be ripped apart before Ismini was given a new form.

  I can’t lose you, damn it, he thought, staring down at the tiny orb glowing in his fist. Another wave of energy hit him right in the face and cut open his forehead, causing blood to spill into his eyes.

  He gritted his teeth so hard that he felt his jaw crack. His vision blurred to the point he couldn’t see. He refused to let go of Ismini’s soul. He groaned viciously as he forced himself to hang on just a little bit longer.

  The soul in Dyletri’s hand popped. He felt its power roar and expand and become denser. It pushed his fist open, growing larger than he could hold. Dyletri snapped his arms around it once it was big enough. Another wave of the vortex’s energy hit his back and slashed the skin open, ripping off his shirt. More blood spilled out of him.

  That didn’t matter. What had been nothing but a ball of light a few seconds ago was now something of substance. The energy in his arms continued to grow and condense, bits of it snapping in his palm. Like the birth of a planet, the atoms crashed together and began to solidify.

  His body shook as a huge explosion went off around him, and the world went white. He felt himself ejected from the vortex. It took but a moment for him to realize what was in his arms. That he was holding his R’ma even as he spiraled at hundreds of miles per hour back toward the ground.

  Dyletri let loose one more wave of energy just as they got close to the ground. He used it to buffer their fall. Still, he landed on the desert floor hard, and the impact ripped open the skin on his back further. He skidded and slammed into the mountainside. It shook dangerously, pieces of rock landing around them.

  Seconds later, something hit the ground about twelve feet from him. It was Zeniel with Evesse passed out in his bloody arms.

  Dyletri looked down. He’d already felt her there but needed to see her. Ismini.

  My Ismini.

  Holding back his tears and shaking from the exhaustion and gratitude, he hugged her to his chest. He reveled in the slow heartbeat he felt.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zen cradling Evesse, his face lost in her neck as he rocked back and forth.

  They’d done it. They’d all fucking done it. Dyletri groaned, trying his best not to cry like a pussy as he nuzzled Ismini’s cheek and breathed in her scent. Leaning back, he moved her hair so he could see it. See his mark.

  Holy shit.

  After thousands of years of hating Fate, he finally had a good reason to be grateful. A very good one indeed.

  Chapter 28

  “By the Gods, baby girl. I’d thought I lost you.”

  Ismini knew that voice. She felt hot lips ghost softly across her cheek, her neck, that specific spot. She gasped, heat rushing through her. Her back arched.

  Fuck, wait. My back? Huh?

  That voice again. More kisses raining down on her skin.

  Wait, skin?

  Her brain kicked in and put two and two together. Ismini’s eyes shot open, and the bright sunlight made her cringe. She closed her eyes. Blinked. Tried again. When her vision finally registered, the first thing she saw was the mountain. The same one she’d died on.

  Wait. She had died here, hadn’t she?

  “Ismini.”

  She gasped, realizing that she was in his arms. His. “Dyletri?”

  “Fuck,” he gasped, pulling her tighter against him.

  The smell of his blood hit her hard. Another gasp escaped. Ismini stared at him. The first thing she saw was his relieved gaze. Then she saw all the blood. All the gashes. “Dyletri . . . you’re . . .”

  “I’m fine. Fucking perfect. You’re back.” He cupped the back of her head, his fingers digging in tight. He didn’t give her time to think. His lips landed on her, and heat exploded between them. His blood slid into her mouth. Next thing she knew, she was clinging to him. His teeth pierced her lip, mixing their blood.

  Whatever grogginess and weakness she felt was shot completely into oblivion. The feeling of his hot, wet tongue against hers was one hell of a defibrillator. Dyletri groaned into her mouth, his hands lifting her. Lips not letting go.

  Lust shot into her heart, reigniting all of her nerves. Her inner walls throbbed, empty, screaming for him as he positioned her, sitting her up on his lap. She felt his body reacting, could feel the hardness of his cock underneath her. The way he kissed her was like he was trying to suck out her soul. If he felt anything like she felt, Ismini couldn’t blame him.

  His blood slid into their open, dueling mouths. He sank one incisor into her lip again, sucking out more of her blood. When he lovingly cupped her neck and rubbed his thumb over his mark, she almost came right there. “Wait . . . what . . .”

  The
sound of a plane landing behind them broke them apart. Dyletri rested his forehead against hers. He panted harshly against her lips, his taste still tempting. “You’re back. Thank the Fates, I got you back.”

  The tone of his voice squeezed her heart. Ismini took him in again, seeing the multiple wounds that were just beginning to heal. “My God, what happened?” she asked, cupping his jaw.

  “It’s okay. I got you back. They’ll heal,” he murmured, kissing her cheek. He pulled back. That’s when she saw it.

  “Wh—what? Dy . . . what?” Ismini stammered, eyes wide as she took in the purple, light blue and white design spiraling from his neck down to his shoulder, where it blended and intertwined with his tribal tattoo.

  She looked down at her arm. Saw her aura. Saw that it matched. “You are mated to me,” she said, gasping and not knowing which feeling to go with; delirious happiness or guilt.

  What had happened to Dimithinia? Had the sacrifice failed? During the moments after her death, something had happened. Ismini had felt Dimithinia’s soul somehow, as if it were brushing against her own. Along with that came all the memories that proved what everyone else had said. The woman had never been evil, and she had been trapped in agony over what she’d done.

  “Fuck yes. And I got you back. Come here, baby.” Dyletri’s eyes were slightly unfocused as he pulled Ismini close again. He sucked on her lips, sending a flurry of heat through her and rendering her incapable of speech.

  Ismini was lost in his kiss. She knew only him until an ecstatic voice behind them invaded her little bubble.

  Someone was going on about how they’d done it, how they’d fucking done it. She wondered what they’d done and struggled to make sense of the words with Dyletri stealing her breath the way he was.

  When clarity came, it came suddenly.