“You BITCH!” Will lunged at her and if not for her increased reflexes, he would have backhanded her. At the same time Ash leaped up and dove for Will, making contact with and wrapping his arms around Will's middle. They went down in a heap, all snarling and cursing and punching, taking the curtain down with them.
Her time with them was over before it had really started. Fighting doesn't really go over well in a strip club. It tended to put a dampener on peoples good times and their wallets. Hurrit was standing right next to them as soon as Will disentangled himself and stood. “Your time's up, boys,” he said through clenched lips. His hunger drive was running on high and he didn't risk exposing his teeth. His sunglasses hid his alien eyes. Startled, Will took a swing at the intruder.
It went wide, catching only air. Ash stood just as Hurrit landed a blow to Will's soft bits, earning an 'ooff'. Ash tried to grab Tara Kay but she moved with her new speed, avoiding him by more than necessary. A flash told Hurrit that the man had tried to cut his queen. That was not to be tolerated. He punched Ash in the face, splitting his skin on the hard unforgiving ridge of the eyebrow and knocking him unconscious.
Hurrit caught the falling, bleeding man and tossed him over his shoulder like a rag doll. He wrapped his other arm around Will's neck, locking him in front. He forced Will to walk forward toward the exit. Hurrit looked back at the still seated Jackie and asked, “You coming nicely or do I need to come back for you?”
Jackie blanched and stood. Hurrit flicked his head forward. He wasn't about to let even a timid man like Jackie behind him. Jackie complied. Crash watched as Hurrit took care of three out of control patrons with awe. He came to stand next to Kay.
“Your boy's pretty damn handy with the rabble.”
“Hurrit's not my boy. He's just a friend.”
“You might want to tell him that.” Crash wondered if the man would become a regular. If the Indian and Special K were dating, Crash might be able to get his those stunning bouncer services for free. He doubted he could afford a trained bouncer like Hurrit. “Why don't you do an extra dance on the main stage, and then be as choosy as you want for the rest of the night.” Special K was his main pull and keeping her happy was more important than a few customers. “Melody can handle the extra work.”
Special K and Melody shared enough features that patrons coming to see the first would settle for the second. They both had pretty faces, big round tits on petite bodies, and narrow waists and hips. Melody was older but had a magnetism to her that, until tonight, Kay couldn't duplicate. Kay was younger and, with that, firmer. She had come back from Austin with a better understanding of her body. Their s & m show on Monday nights brought in more money than the weekend all together.
“Thanks, Crash.” Kay went directly to the DJ booth to put in her request for the last dance. The country rap song got her more cash than any other but she especially hated it. It was a white guy who couldn't sing, saying words in rhythm with a country twang. Whoever heard of rap with a banjo?! But this place wasn't about what she wanted, it was about giving the customers what they wanted so they gave her their money. She had made almost enough tonight already for it to be considered a great take and she really wanted to get home to Oren.
***
“Not a word,” was all Montana had said. That man back at the club was anything but. Montana was fairly certain the man was a vampire. He thought he'd seen the vamp lick the blood off his knuckles. He didn't want the three idiots in the back to say anything that might alert the native American that they were onto his master. Montana had no idea how good a vampire's hearing was.
Not until they were back at the station, did he free them. The two older ones broke into a fight as soon as the cuffs were off. Montana separated the two brothers from Will. He took the DakuAhu and went in to talk privately to the Cunningham boy.
“What happened?”
Will shook his head. “It was just like you said, only worse. She knew exactly what to say and do to get us fighting each other. Ash had plenty of time to use the dagger.”
Montana made a sound that sounded like he understood. “He is weak and that brother is no better. I should never have trusted him with something so valuable.” He clapped the white bone dagger on the metal table between them. “I won't make that mistake again.” If he lost the DakuAhu all hope would be gone with it. Montana shuddered at the thought. It was a risk sharing it with anyone.
Will had an odd look on his face. He stared at the dagger. He started talking without any prompting from Montana. “Before I thought I was just hearing someone in the other room but I hear it again. Those voices, they're coming from the knife.”
Montana didn't stop him when Will reached out and touched the DakuAhu. It took every thread of willpower he had. He could hear it. Maybe the dagger had a job for Will too. Holding it was the clearest way to hear its desire. He wondered what the boy would interpret as its meaning.
“They are God. They want blood. They want vengeance. They want what was taken from them.” He looked up at the black man across from him. He normally wouldn't associate with Negroes but this one had something unbelievable. He had a direct line to hear the Lord's voice.
Montana smiled. He was glad Will had a religious background. Men would do much more terrible things to another if they thought their god was behind them. Humans were all too eager to serve gods. “And we will give it to them. That man you fought tonight and the one who was born of a tree, they are both demons. They must be killed and that knife is the only way to do that, but first it must be bathed in the right blood.”
***
Ash was in a foul mood as he drove home. First he had failed to cut Tara so Montana was mad. The ass hole had even yelled at him. Then Will, who had a beating coming for his role in Ashley's arrest and for trying to take Tara, had stayed with the man who had just yelled at Ash like a child.
He was fuming, vowing to make them both pay. No one spoke that way to him without some serious repercussions. Jackie was smart enough to keep quiet on the drive. He had taken a punch or twenty in the past when Ash couldn't reach the person he wanted to hurt.
Ash parked in front of the house he and Jackie shared and Jackie let out the breath he'd been holding. Once inside they could retire to their separate rooms and Ash could let out his steam on something other than Jackie's face.
Something slammed onto the hood of the car with a crash. They both jumped and then started to scream as a monster smiled back at them through the windshield. Its face was not the same color as the rest of its body. Flaming red fur with a spot of white over one ear covered it, reminding them of a fox. This was no fox. This wasn't any animal they'd ever even heard of, much less seen. It roared and Jackie felt the warm wetness of his bladder emptying itself. Ash had enough of his mental capacity to lock the doors before realizing it wouldn't do anything.
Something else landed on the trunk. A hand, not a paw, hairy and tipped with claws, tore open the roof, rolling it back like the lid of a sardine can. When it was open more than the night sky stared down at them. A demon barked an order at the monster on the hood and then turned it's terrible attention to the Stout boys.
It's voice was painful, an instrument of torture in and of itself. Ash expected it to say, 'I am legion' the way the one in the bible had. Just like a cult horror movie, it sounded like a bunch of voices coming from the same mouth. “You will tell me everything you know about the DakuAhu. Then I will decide if your memories are to be erased or if, because of your attempt on the life of a Sinnis, you need to die.”
Chapter 6
Tara Kay tried not to talk about Oren all the way home. It was hopeless. She was so anxious to see him and hear his voice that she couldn't help it. Hurrit didn't seem to mind. He even joined in the praises of his kings attributes. Hurrit loved him too. He understood how she felt. Maybe it was just a progeny/ maker thing, but Kay doubted that. She doubted that Hurrit could be apart from Oren for all that time if he felt like she did about the Nephilim. It had
only been a day and she was aching for him.
“I like this road.” Hurrit changed the subject. He would speak to Sarrum as soon as possible, make sure Arakiel was aware of Tara Kay's feelings.
Rural route 4, on which her house was box 221, was a beautiful drive. It was blacktop with no center stripe. Barely wide enough to be two way, she knew that around any turn she might have to take to the dirt to avoid a collision. The trees that grew on either side of the road were thick and their branched joined overhead to make a canopy of green that had graced the cover of Texas Monthly more than once. “I do too. Always have.”
Tara Kay ventured a glance over at him. He was much more composed since his encounter with Ash and the boys. His hunger was sated, his eyes and teeth back to normal. She wondered his he'd fed on them out in the parking lot. Never one to hold her tongue, Kay asked him.
He hadn't, not really. He'd only licked his knuckles clean. He'd wanted to question them but the sheriff's deputy had gotten there too fast. They must have been in the area. Or maybe there was always trouble on Friday nights at Bare A$$ets.
Hurrit helped the deputy and the un-uniformed man get the three into the car. It was the other man who had Hurrit worried. He hadn't had a badge, but just reeked of authority. That was a ruthless man used to getting what he wanted. The boys had been cuffed but not searched even though Hurrit had told the deputy that he thought Ashley had a knife. Something else had bothered him about the situation. No one had read the boys their rights.
The night was comfortably cool and Kay had the windows down as they drove. She enjoyed the smell of home. It was so moist and green and full of life. “Do you smell that?” Hurrit nodded, his head already turned out of the window. “Is it...blood?”
Hurrit took a deep breath as they pulled to a stop near her house. “Yes, human. Three, maybe four dead or dying.” They opened their doors at the same time. “I'll investigate after you are safely in the Sarrum's arms.”
The blood was much closer than her tree. She knew how fast she could move and wasn't afraid. If there were three or four dying people close to her, she was taking her magic to try and help them. She found herself in the orchard seconds after she'd decided that's where they were. Hurrit was on her heels.
“We don't know what did this. There are things that go bump in the night that you know nothing about. It could be a trap.”
Kay didn't hear him. The scene was gruesome. Moonlight shone down on what looked like an animal attack. Body parts littered the orchard's central clearing, too many to be from just one person. Ages and sexes were impossible to determine, strewn as they were.
“Look out!” a voice called and Kay turned just in time to see a giant beast charging towards her and Hurrit. Hurrit cursed in the ancient language he and Oren shared, while putting himself between his queen and the monster. The beast changed direction and went after the voice that had warned them of it's attack and Kay got her first good look at it.
It had the profile of a wolf but it's proportions were off. More the size of a grizzly bear, it ran on four limbs that dug deep gouges out of the earth. She knew by looking that it could walk just as easily on two and that each arm or leg ended in huge claws. Its muzzle was big and dark, dripping with the blood of its kills. Her superhuman vision told her something was off about the animal but she didn't have time to think what.
A mans scream tore through her. The man who'd warned her was being torn apart the way these others had been. The sound stopped with a crunch and gurgle. Kay tore around Hurrit and found the man in what couldn't have been more than three strides.
He was bad off. Dying but not yet dead. The beast had destroyed his face, neck, and stomach, maybe not pausing at all, but just trampling over him, gouging his body the way it had the earth. The man could have been someone she knew, but it was impossible to tell. “Save him!”
She cursed at Hurrit when he just stood there. Sinking to her knees beside the shredded man, she plunged her hands into the blood soaked soil. She didn't know how to do this. She wasn't a healer and she had no one to help her. She begged silently.
You always have us. We can help you, child. There was the woman's voice. It was so much clearer than it had ever been. You are our chosen. You and your family will hold this place against the Shinar when they come. She didn't know who the Shinar were and she certainly didn't have any family to speak of. Then a calm feeling settled over her. She knew what to do. This man would be the first in her family. She, like Oren before her, would make an army of progeny to protect the family land, just as Oren's watched over their family bloodlines.
Kay manually lengthened her incisors with less concentration than she would have expected it to take, and bit through the skin on her wrist. Hurrit moved then. He grabbed her arm, keeping it from raining down on the broken man.
“He has the stink of Akhkharu on him. It's old but there none the less. He could be dangerous.” He released her hand when his Sarrum Sinnis growled at him, exposing her teeth. It was obvious that his queen would do as she wanted. He released her arm. He was holding it gently; she could have pulled away from him if she'd wanted. “I only want you to be prepared. If he comes back...wrong...he will have to be put down. Ki chooses those she would have as her children and I have not heard her voice.”
“I have. Kiyahwe would have me make him.” He would be her first, her Hurrit.
She dribbled a little bit onto the wounds of his stomach before the bite marks closed up. She calmly took another bite, this time tearing away the tender flesh, making a large wound. The blood flowed more freely and she donated generously to the dying man. When the wounds on his neck and stomach started to close, she put her attention to his face.
Angling her arm so that the blood flowed down her fingers, she traced inside the deep claw marks with her fingertips. She squeezed the gaps together, once the muscles had started to repair and spread even more blood over the skin. She didn't want the man to be forever scarred.
“He must consume the holy blood if he is to be 'made',” Hurrit instructed from behind her.
Pressing the now closing wound over the mans mouth she prayed to Kiyahwe that he would live. At first the blood just trickled down his throat but as he began to draw from her and swallow, she recognized his face. With him pulling from her, she didn't care that he was Billy, her friend from the Daughters of Women compound. Hurrit had said she shouldn't give blood because she didn't know what it would do to her. She knew now. It was intense. She was weighted down with a blanket of need. “Oren. I need...”
Hurrit knelt behind her. He wrapped one hand around her waist, pressing her back against him. “I know. I know, my queen. If you would allow it, I can provide what you need.”
She didn't answer verbally, but made a soft whimpering sound in her throat and ground her hips back into Hurrit. It was confirmation enough for the vitala. Sarrum Arakiel would need to replenish her later, but Hurrit could give her release. He was just serving her, not taking advantage. It would be hard to resist doing what he really wanted to her, but he had plenty of practice in restraint. Six thousand years of it.
He put his other hand on the top of her thigh and slid up her sun dress She parted her legs for him and laid her head back on his shoulder. He tried not to look at the curve of her neck or the pale blue vein just below the surface.
Sweet goddess, she smelled good.
He closed his eyes and held his breath. Vitala didn't really need to breathe anyway. It was more of habit than anything else. He cupped her mound and felt that her panties were already soaked. At least this torture wouldn't last long with her as enthralled as she was because of the feeding.
The beast plowed back into the clearing, headed right for them. Hurrit and Tara Kay didn't notice. Oren appeared between them and the monster. It refused to cower when faced with death. Oren punched the creature. While it was down his arm shimmered, changing shape and substance. He brought his sword hand down on the neck of the vrykolak, severing its head.
Ka
y reached her hand back over her shoulder and tugged Hurrit's face to her neck. His kisses along her pulse and ear were guarded at best. He couldn't do what she was asking because he wasn't sure she understood what she was offering. She had lost a lot of prana saving the man lying in front of them. He wouldn't take more from her with the thrall muddling her mind so thoroughly. She angled her face up to his and he kissed her hard on the mouth. That closed lip press was enough to send her over the edge. As shudders rocked his queens body, Hurrit held her tight, determined that no one, not even himself nor his Sarrum, would hurt her.
***
The librarian didn't wait for Maeve and Camilla to get to her before she announced, “It's mate-sickness.” Libby made her diagnosis but nobody breathed a sigh of relief. Maeve and Camilla looked at each other. “That's a good thing for Minali, easily fixed.” Libby pressed wanting a better reaction.
Maeve plopped down in the chair opposite Libby at the reference table. The elder woman had called in the Abbess and healer as soon as she was certain. The giant tome on the table was old and probably the reason Libby hadn't brought the news to them. Camilla lowered herself down on a nearby ottoman. It was much more her size and it was padded for her weary pregnant ass.
“If her mate's alive, it easily fixed.” Maeve knew about mate sickness. All matchmakers did. It was part of their training. But with the virtual shrinking of the world, with the world wide internet and supersonic jets, it was unheard of in this day and age. When Maeve worked her magic there were several sub-spells: the bridge, the call and the recognition. A person got mate-sick when they received the call spell but was not physically able to go to their mate, who would have only the recognition spell. It happened a lot when people's movements were more restricted or slow. “There isn't much that can keep a called mate away. Death being the most obvious.”
Ishtar Rising Page 10
