Ishtar Rising

by Natalie Gibson

  Oren must not have realized what they were for until they started to put an severed leg into one. “No. They must remain on the earth. Mother will take them into her bosom.”

  Kay put a hand on his arm when he made a move towards the men. “Oren, they have to take them. Identify them and cause of death. They have families that must be notified.” He didn't move so he must have understood the need to remove the bodies but he never took his eyes off of their actions. He didn't like it. What thinking person would take a body from the earth and encase it in man made plastic?! Contact with the soil brought them peace.

  The sheriff watched the giant watching the bloody carnage. “I'm afraid you're gonna have to come with me back to the station to answer some questions, Mr...” He waited but the man paid him no attention. “You're not from around here, are you? See, around here, I'm the law and when I ask you a question you damn well better answer me real quick. I'll extend you a courtesy and ask you again just in case you didn't hear me. What's your name, boy, and where'd you come from?”

  Kay elbowed him. Oren turned to the small man. “You may call me Sarrum Oren Arakiel Maru and I have roots in this area.”

  Kay choked on a laugh and started coughing. Sheriff Stout eyed her and then turned to Oren. He narrowed his eyes to slits. “Roots around Calum? Not with a name like that you don't. Sounds like a terrorist name to me.” A few deputies had started to close around them as they talked. Several of them had their guns out, hanging at their sides.

  Kay shook her head and warned them. “I wouldn't if I were you.”

  Whitney took out his cuffs, then thought twice and put them back in his holster. He didn't think they would fit around this guys wrist anyway. “Just come in quietly and no body has to get hurt.” Three deputies leveled their weapons.

  Oren started to sing.

  It was just like when it happened at the diner. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at Oren. It wasn't everyday that a giant with an out of this world voice busted out into song in a foreign language. Starting with the sheriff, Oren made eye contact with each of the men. They each went back to what they were doing, sans pointed guns and suspicions. The crime scene photographer exposed all his film and Whitney tore the page he'd been writing on in his book, put it in his mouth, chewed it and swallowed it. Oren finished his song and scooped up Kay. He left and the sheriff shouted after them, “Thank you for all your help! We will be off your property as quick as possible.”

  ***

  She waited until they were back inside the house with Hurrit and Billy before she asked, “Where did the body go? The monster you killed.”

  “Disappeared when the sun rose as all bodies of children of darkness do.”

  He seemed to dismiss it so she accepted it as a closed conversation. She had more pressing questions. “What the hell is that you keep doing to the sheriff?”

  “What?” Billy and Hurrit said in unison.

  Oren stood Kay up on her own two feet and put his hands on her shoulders. He thumbed her neck. “We were in deep shit. Fucking guns pointed at us. They, of course, think we ritually massacred those people and then ol' Pavarotti over here starts up.”

  Billy looked confused but Hurrit said, “Ah, yes. His song.” He gestured to the chair and Kay sat. She suddenly felt very tired. Today had already been one helluva day, and it was only 9 a.m. Oren went behind her chair to continue her massage. Hurrit knelt in front of her and took her hand. Insides up, he laced his fingers into hers. With his thumbs he rubbed her palms. Kay closed her eyes. She didn't know what they were doing but all her tensions melted away. She could get used to being treated like a princess.

  Oren spoke softly so that he penetrated her tired mind without shattering her relaxation. “Each of us have an individual talent, something none other can do, but all Nephilim share a few abilities. We live forever. We are incredibly strong and near impossible to kill. We can camouflage our appearance so that it is impossible for a human to remember what we look like or what we say. What you see is not how I looked as a young adult. This is how I choose to appear. My natural form is not one that would fit in a crowd.”

  Kay didn't like the thought that she didn't really know what Oren looked like. “Show me. I've seen Hurrit's face all vamped out. I can take it.”

  “Another time, my love.”

  She was about to object when Hurrit jumped in. “His true form, like his true name is his most guarded secret. It isn't you he hides it from but Billy and I.”

  Billy raised one shoulder and dropped it. He smirked at her. He seemed to be taking all of this in stride. “What else?” he asked as he crossed to the door. He wouldn't take part in the Kay worship but he could keep watch. Those policemen were a little close to let down his guard yet, not to mention the monster that had attacked him was still on the loose.

  “Just flight and song. Our song can take the memories of humans. In men, we can replace them with those of our choosing. We can erase anything we deem dangerous. With the law men, I just took their memory of our conversation, their suspicions of me and replaced them with a general feeling of me giving all the right answers. I overwrote with the impression of cooperation and innocence.”

  “Have you ever done that to me? Overwritten my memories?”

  “No. Absolutely not. I could have blocked your memories when you were human but the female mind is more sophisticated than the males. It is difficult to completely erase and impossible to overwrite. I cannot even block your memories now that your conversion is complete.”

  “Because I'm not human anymore.” It wasn't a question. Enough had happened to her that she had no doubt that she was superhuman. Her blood was some kind of magical elixir, for goddess sakes.

  “What's your special ability then?” Billy asked from his sentry position.

  Kay had a suspicion it had to do with his sinfully seductive mouth.

  “I, like all of the Arakiel family line, speak to the Great mother Ki, who hears and answers.” Oren began to finger through her hair. He used his nails to part it and his fingers to weave it. Kay could feel every strand, alive and humming with pleasure at being given the task of holding such an elaborate style.

  “You're an earth witch, like Special K. You know Kay, the Daughters garden was really struggling after you left. I bet it's totally fallen into ruin now that I'm gone too. Ingrid's skills lie in mixing up the herbs, not growing them.”

  Hurrit spoke up, “You're a witch too? You make offerings to the Mother and she answers?”

  Billy shook his head, “No. The only offering I ever made was my time. Without that and Kay's special blood offerings, I'm sure they are struggling. We should go back soon, Kay.”

  It was Tara Kay's turn to shake her head no. “You go. Wouldn't do any good for me to go back. My powers are gone. Taken. Along with all the witches in the SOFE coven. I can't remember exactly what happened. It's been coming back to me in pieces. There was a lot of blood and light and then the pain of my ability being pulled from me.”

  “Holy shit, Kay. That's terrible. I really want to go home. But I can't go back without you. I feel...compelled to stay and ...protect you. Sounds dumb seeing as you are sandwiched between two of the most powerful beings I've ever seen, but it's the truth.” Billy saw that smile cross Kay's face that said she was imagining herself sandwiched between Hurrit and Oren like she'd been earlier in the kitchen. He wondered how long it would take her to get back in that position. “Hey, wait. Have you tried to use your ability since Oren gave you his blood? It's got healing properties, right? Maybe it healed your ability.” He sniffed the air. “You'll have to test the theory later. Men are coming. Three, maybe four.” He smiled. “Nothing Hurrit and I can't handle.”

  Chapter 8

  Montana was nervous. He was walking right into the den of a Nephilim with a newly found Sinnis. That Nephilim would likely not hesitate to kill to protect her, but Montana had to know if she had been claimed or not. If she was still human, she wouldn't have any proble
m giving over a blood sample. If she was converted Sinnis, there could be trouble for him even asking for it.

  He was in charge. He'd brought the sheriff along to work as a kind of litmus test for the Nephilim's attempted mind control. Montana needed to know when the giant was using his ability and the sheriff would be able to show him how he should be acting. Will was there too but Montana had trained him, given him the secret for protecting his mind. He wasn't sure of the younger mans acting ability and so Will had been instructed to stay outside. He knew Will was glad for the order that would keep him in the safe zone. Will also held the DakuAhu. The boy was developing quite an attachment to the dagger.

  Montana raised his hand to knock and the door opened before he could. Outwardly he handled it well, but inside it took him a minute to re-compose himself. Staring him in the face was the oldest vitala he'd ever seen. Montana didn't know about the other man. It was hard to tell, they both looked so normal, but Montana had been trained to recognize the signs. He had been in charge of obtaining the Lilitu Brian had needed for his experiments. Brian had created a tranquilizer from her blood that could take down a Nephilim. How Montana wished he had a clip full of that stuff in his gun. As it was he only had two doses, not enough in a room full of the Nephilim's children. He was glad the dart gun was tucked away in his back holster.

  “Excuse me for intruding but is Miss Woods here?” Neither man answered. He knew this was her house. The sheriff was more than convinced she was living in the condemned building even though he had evicted her parents over a decade ago and given her numerous personal warnings of the dangers of living in a home that dilapidated. It didn't appear dilapidated at all anymore.

  “There is a large amount of blood at the scene, as would be expected from the level of violence but I'd like to get DNA samples in order to scientifically eliminate Miss Woods and her associate from the suspect list.” It was a good story and he was sticking with it He might be able to make more tranq serum if he could get blood from either of the men before him, but the look on their faces said he wasn't getting it.

  Finally the vampire spoke. “She's sleeping. It took a lot out of her, seeing those people torn apart that way.”

  “Of course. We'll come back at a more convenient time.” A lot of good it would do him. Montana knew that these two would never let him or any other unknown close to that woman. To try was to die. He was greatly outnumbered. He wasn't sure how to remedy that. He needed to grow his ranks but the pickings were slim around here.

  Montana tried to make backing down the porch steps look natural. The last thing he needed to do right now was trigger the hunting instinct in these two ultimate predators.

  ***

  Back in the car, following the sheriff's closely, Will fought the shakes and worked up the courage to ask Montana, “Did they slaughter those people?”

  The man made a noise that could be interpreted as affirmative.

  “Why?”

  Montana had killed those four women. The DakuAhu needed their magic blood. He didn't know what had torn up their bodies like that. He'd left them in the orchard as the dagger had told him It didn't matter. He said what he had to in order to gain what he wanted. “She's evil. Those men with her are killers. It is likely too late to save her as I planned. They're all demons doing the devil's work. It is our job to stop them.”

  Mercifully he didn't ask how. Montana wasn't sure. He needed a military based faction, like the one he and Brian had started from the ranks of their own service years. Maybe a few teams of experienced fighters could distract those two monsters and their maker for long enough for Montana to get some of the womans blood on the DakuAhu.

  He needed to work with what he had, but what he had was nothing. There were no Paion within 100 miles. He might be able to get some men from Dallas, but the last he'd seen of them hadn't left him with any confidence in their abilities. They were a superstitious group, obsessed with the mythology, like the religious locals of this humid woodlands.

  He'd hit on something with that line of thought and he actually pumped the breaks. He needed to use what he had and what he had wasn't nothing. It was a whole lot of easily influenced religious zealots with not much more in their lives than taking on the imagined 'attack on American values' that their faux news told them was happening. He could give them more than just an imaginary threat. They had the real thing right in their own back yards. Fallen angels, witches, satanic sacrifice, blood drinking. It was almost too perfect, too easy.

  ***

  So she's got her own little coven of blood witches now? Nathalia had never been one to think something through. She had opinions, and strong ones at that, that seemed to shade and color all of her decisions.

  “She didn't say that.” Maeve had dealt with Nathalia's prejudices long before she had the power to support them. The new abbess had always wanted to free the Daughters to more fully exercise their powers. That meant letting them use every technique they knew of. As long as no one was being harmed, what could be the damage?

  Jolie doesn't interpret her dreams. She trusts us to do that. And I think it means Tara Kay has gone back to her SOFE ways. Nathalia wanted to intervene. She wanted to go to the former Daughter and tear apart her gruesome coven before they accidentally killed someone.

  Jolie spoke up. “There was a lot of blood.” She stifled a yawn, triggering the same in Maeve. It was late for the two mothers. Eleven p.m used to be when they got ready to go out. Tonight Jolie had already been asleep and dreaming before the clock hit that. That's what having young ones did. “But it wasn't like the premonitions I had about the SOFE. Those were scary. Dark. This one wasn't evil.”

  “Tell us again. What exactly was she doing?” Maeve got her pad and pen ready. Libby wasn't there so it was up to the abbess to record the dream. Libby could add it to Jolie's achievement book tomorrow.

  “She wasn't really doing anything.” Jolie closed her eyes. She always did when she was trying to remember a dream exactly. “She's naked, bleeding. Everyone is.”

  Everyone is naked or everyone is bleeding?

  Maeve shot Nathalia a look that said 'stop interrupting'.

  “Both. They're outside. It's night, but I get the feeling this ceremony has been going on for a while. Maybe it started in the day, I don't know.” Jolie looked at Maeve. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't be talking about maybes. Let me start again.” She closed her eyes again and only started her recap after a deep cleansing breath. “We're outside. It's dark but I can see perfectly fine. I'm naked. The people around me are naked. Men and women press against me. I'm aware that there's never been a gathering like this before. Then I see her. She's the one we've been waiting to see.

  “She's got green hair and she's standing in front of a giant tree, her feed buried in ankle deep soil. She's flanked by two of the most gorgeous people I've ever seen. They're two extreme versions of the same beauty. He is dark skinned with long black hair. Wild and hard, he's the opposite of the woman on her other side. She's fair skinned with hair so light it's almost white. She's curled and pressed and groomed. Pampered, a Marilyn Monroe type, she looks soft. All curves, she contrasts with his angles.

  “We all inch forward, waiting our turn for an audience. We pour out some blood on the ground. Then we wait. She watches us make our offering and then closes her eyes. She listens. When she opens them, she either opens her arms and takes us into her embrace or she doesn't. To be rejected is devastating. When it's all over she speaks to us. She's covered in blood but she's so happy. She's proud of us. She climbs the tree.” Jolie shrugged. “That's it.” She rubbed her eyes with her fists, like a child boohooing.

  “Go home, Jolie. We'll talk more tomorrow.”

  Jolie stood and stretched. “Tea?” she asked. Jolie and Maeve had been having morning tea together since they were pregnant. It was special brewed to settle their morning sickness, but the medicinal ritual had become an occasion that they both enjoyed. Now, while they visited, their daughters could play in the morning
sun when no one else but toddlers and their mothers were awake.

  “O'course. Thank you for bringing this to us right away.” Maeve knew Jolie could have waited to tell her about her dream over morning tea. Instead she'd gotten out of bed. Maeve had been doing the administrative side of her abbess duties. She never got into bed before eleven.

  Jolie made a dismissive wave of her hand, yawned and left.

  ***

  Saturday night was slow at Bare A$$ets. Really slow. Lowest attendance Kay had ever seen. The difference was the people outside. It had been a long time since the club had protesters. Sure, they were a regular at Merv's, the Calum movie rental store that carried porn. They didn't have to be very creative with their picket signs when the business name rhymed with pervs. But Merv's was right in town, a good place to picket. B.A. was out on the county line; nobody to see or document their efforts.

  Their objections didn't really do anything to Merv's business. People were going to rent videos and there wasn't anywhere else to go. People outside couldn't see what they were renting. It was more to annoy Merv into changing his store. It didn't work. Out here it was working. There was no 'I'm just renting 'Mission: Impossible'' to hide behind. If you went into Bare A$$ets, everyone knew what you were there for.

  The few men who did come through the line had their spending enthusiasm greatly reduced by the experience. Some were their regulars who hated all things religious and a few were new faces. No one was certain those unknown faces weren't plants by the protesters outside. The sheriffs office didn't make their usual token appearance. When Crash had called them about the protesters, who were technically breaking the law by being so close to his place of business, he was told that everyone was out on patrol. Dispatch had said that they had better things to do than help a pimp who employed satanic witches.

  He'd hung up on her.