He refused to believe it. Surely his family and his friends were as capable of seeing the truth as he was. A soul of an icrathari wasn’t required for enlightenment, only a pair of eyes and an open mind. “There has to be a way.”
“If there is, no one has found it in a thousand years. Come, I will take you to your sister.”
Chapter Thirteen
In the chamber, her heart and mind in turmoil, Ashra turned her back on the large screen that provided a window into the cell where six humans huddled together. The babble of human conversation emerged, soft but clear through the speakers affixed to the screen, but she lost interest. Jaden had left the cell.
“Don’t you see?” Elsker said quietly. “The humans will sway him.”
“They didn’t.”
“They will; it’s only a matter of time. You’re asking him to turn his back on his family, his friends, on everything he has ever known to be true, and to trust in memories that aren’t even his.”
“He’s seen the world outside Aeternae Noctis. He understands the battle we fight.”
“So why didn’t he tell them?” Elsker paced the breadth of the chamber. “We can’t trust him. He deliberately endangered the city by bringing the infant daeva here.” He paused and turned his accusing gaze on Ashra. “You endangered the city by rescuing him. What were you thinking? You could have been killed.”
She wrapped her arms around her waist and walked to the balcony. Far below, the city stirred as the humans of Aeternae Noctis began a sixteen-hour cycle of wakefulness. In the forests and fields, narrow columns glowed with white radiance, feeding the plants with the artificial sunlight they needed to grow. Lights flicked on in buildings as the streets came alive with activity.
Outside, the night lingered, eternal.
Ashra smoothed the scowl before it appeared on her face. “I wasn’t hurt.”
“Luck will only take you so far.” His footsteps closed the distance. His hands rested on her shoulders.
She closed her eyes. Willpower kept her from relaxing into the support he offered.
His voice was quiet. “Has the soul bond taken hold?”
“The soul bond is a myth.” Inside, she quaked.
“All myths are based in reality. I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t be.”
“I’m allowed to worry. We’ve been friends for thousands of years, and I’ve never seen you act so recklessly. You are the thread that holds the city together, yet you risked your life for a human.”
For Rohkeus, she amended.
Elsker continued. “The soul bond doesn’t just bind the created to the creator. It also connects the creator to the created.” He shook his head. “You’re not thinking straight, Ashra. I don’t think you can, not after you created the soul bond by giving him your blood.”
She snorted. “Twenty drops. It wasn’t a pint, let alone a full transfusion. Don’t blow this out of proportion.”
“But that’s precisely the problem. No one knows what proportion of pure icrathari blood will trigger the soul bond—”
“Enough!” She spun around. Her wings flared out, driving him back. “My life, Elsker. I choose where and how to risk it.”
“Ashra—”
“And if I choose to risk it on a human being, whether or not he possesses Rohkeus’s soul, who are you to stand in my way?”
His pale blue eyes widened. An expression of injured innocence flashed across his fine-featured face. “Ashra, we’re friends; I’m just trying to help.”
“Are you?” She folded her arms across her chest. “In the same way you tried to console me after Rohkeus died?”
He flushed.
“You tried to poison my memories of him with lies. You said—”
Elsker shook his head. He ground the words out through gritted teeth. “I spoke only the truth. Rohkeus was a manipulative son of a bitch. He would sacrifice anything and anyone to get his way.”
“He was bound to his duty.”
“A duty that cared nothing for friendship, let alone love. He used you; he used all of us.”
“He salvaged all that was left of life on Earth, and it cost him his life.”
Elsker snarled. “Fine; make him out to be a hero. Your eyes have been closed to all his faults for thousands of years. No reason to expect you to start seeing them now.”
Ashra cast him a steely glance. “Are you still rankling over the fact that I left you for him?” She brushed past him and walked toward the central shaft. Her wings spread, rustling in the slight breeze as she prepared for flight.
Elsker’s voice, pitched low, spoke from behind her. “That was three thousand years ago.”
Icrathari memories are flawless and eternal. She did not respond to Elsker; they had never seen eye to eye on Rohkeus, and there was hardly any point in attempting to do so now. She leapt high, twisted in midair, and dove down the shaft. The wind screamed up at her, slowing her mad plunge. She flared her wings and maneuvered onto the landing outside her suite. Her feet touched the ground as a soft chime heralded the arrival of the elevator.
Jaden and Dana stepped off the platform.
Ashra’s gaze flashed to Dana, and she jerked her chin, the gesture imperious.
Dana backed away, retreating around the corner. Jaden’s only reaction was an arch of his eyebrows.
Ashra beckoned.
Jaden did not move.
She stifled a chuckle. This soul bond that Elsker fears I’ve created by giving Jaden my blood obviously needs tweaking.
For a long moment, they stared at each other across the few feet that separated them. Jaden broke the silence first. “Where is my sister?”
“In here.” She turned and strode toward a door. It slid open, steel whispering against steel. She stepped into her suite of rooms, the only place in the tower that she considered entirely her own. Beauty was not innate to Malum Turris, but over a thousand years, she had scrounged from the city enough material—satin, silk, and velvet—to soften the sharp edges and warm the cold surfaces of her suite. Cloths of gem-like hues draped across the bed and lounge chairs. The rich and deep colors were a sharp contrast to the gauzy white dress she wore.
Jaden cast a startled glance around the room. “Do icrathari sleep?”
“We don’t have to, but an occasional nap has been known to improve a sour disposition.” She led the way to a small door tucked in the corner of her suite. She unlocked it and flung the door open.
The small antechamber served as a private sitting room. The screens on the wall displayed images of lakes and oceans that existed only in historical records and the memories of the icrathari. On a daybed, tucked beneath a heavy quilt was Khiarra, fast asleep.
Jaden released his breath. The soft sigh was accompanied by relieved smile. He sat by the bed. His hand stroked his sister’s hair with a gentleness that no longer surprised Ashra.
Khiarra stirred but did not wake.
He looked at Ashra. “Thank you.”
“You thank me so often; it seems you must not have set particularly high expectations for my behavior.”
He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
The sound charmed a smile out of her, but she stamped down the flash of delight. “You went to see the humans.”
“Yes. I had to see if I could talk sense into them.”
“You can’t. They’re human. They cannot change.”
He pressed a finger lightly to her lips. “I’m human too. The only part of Rohkeus that exists in me is his memory of you. I’ve just learned that everything I believed for twenty-eight years was a lie, and somehow I survived.”
Her lips pursed. “You are different.”
“You think I’m different because you haven’t dealt with humans in so long. You have no idea what we’re like. Give us more credit. We are adaptable; we have to be. The final change—death—looms over each of us every day. Change is easier when you don’t have to contemplate the immortal consequences of your decisions. If you
can win the humans over, they’ll fight for you.”
“For a thousand years, we’ve defended the city without aid from humans.”
“You need our help now,” Jaden insisted. “The daeva attacks have thinned your vampire army.”
She tilted her head. “And you’re offering your frail humans in its stead?”
“We number in the thousands.”
“And you’d die to protect the city?” Her lips twisted into a sneer. “I find that hard to believe.”
“You already cull through us each night of the full moon. We’re used to dying for your beliefs.”
Ashra pulled away from him. “Is that how you see us?”
“Until recently, you didn’t give me a chance to see you any differently.” He reached for her, and she allowed him to hold her cold fingers in his warm hand. “I changed. The others will too. This is our city, Ashra. It’s our home. We have always believed that the icrathari and the vampires kept us from the real world. You did, but we never realized before that the real world isn't worth having. We owe the icrathari our lives and the vampires our safety. If you give us a chance to acknowledge the debt we owe and the stake we have in the city…”
Close the gap. He was trying. She had to meet him halfway.
Ashra inhaled deeply. “I will consider it.”
Jaden smiled. “Thank you.” He hesitated for a moment before tucking a stray lock of her silver hair behind her ear. “I don’t know what to expect from an icrathari anymore. You’re nothing like we’ve made you out to be.”
“How so?”
“Your council is like our human council. We spend more time trying to prove each other wrong than deciding on the right next step. We thought the vampires were your slaves—”
“They are.”
“Perhaps, but the vampires are also your partners. You consult with them; occasionally take their advice.”
“I try not to be obstinate on principle.”
Jaden chuckled. “The vampires respect you. I’m beginning to understand why. You wouldn’t ask them to do anything you wouldn’t do yourself.”
She closed her eyes and turned her face into his touch. No mistaking him for Rohkeus. His large hand was calloused, the hand of a warrior, but he caressed her cheek as if she were as fragile and delicate as the first bloom of spring.
“Jaden.” Her breath, a whispered prayer caught and held, unuttered, when his lips touched hers.
The kiss was scarcely more than the mingling of breath, but it offered hope where none had existed before.
Cloth rustled, Khiarra stirred, but the sounds scarcely registered until the child spoke in tones too deep to be her own. “To kill an icrathari, cut off its head to sever its life and stab its stomach to rend its soul.”
Alarm spiked the tempo of her heartbeat. Ashra tore away from Jaden and stared down at the child. Khiarra was still fast asleep, but the mature female voice issued from her mouth once again. “When I kill him, the city will fall.”
“Khiarra?” Jaden leaned over his sister, but Ashra pulled him away. She placed her hand on the child’s stomach and pushed deep. Her soul-sucking powers leeched into Khiarra, rushing past the consistent sights and sounds of a childhood spent within the shelter of the dome. Time rewound in a blaze of color and scents, before tumbling into the darkness of the womb.
As she had with Jaden, Ashra pushed deeper until the darkness gave way to shades of gray and ochre. Through the eyes of the soul that now inhabited Khiarra’s body, Ashra stared at the last thing it had seen before it was consumed in a blaze of unforgiving sunlight.
In the shadow cast by a human assassin, blood poured, a golden stream, from the pierced stomach of a black-winged headless corpse. Two feet away, his green eyes frozen wide in death, was Rohkeus’s severed head.
Chapter Fourteen
“No!” Jaden caught Ashra’s hand before her talons could rip out Khiarra’s throat. He threw his arms around her slim body and pulled her back. She shook him off with little more than a shrug; he wrestled her back once again, placing himself between her and Khiarra. “What are you doing?”
“She killed you!”
“What?” He shook his head. “What are you talking about?”
Ashra’s golden eyes glittered with fury. Her voice shook with raw pain. “She killed you.”
He pulled her close. “Shhh, no, it’s all right,” he promised. He had to calm her before she focused her anger enough to unleash real damage. “I’m here. I’m not hurt.”
She yanked away. Her black wings beat down furiously, stirring the air into a vortex. Jaden closed his eyes and braced against the cruel bite of the wind. He reached for her, his grip tightening around her waist. “Ashra, stop, please. Don’t do this. Don’t drive me away.”
His words, or perhaps his voice, reached her. Her gaze locked on his. A semblance of rationality crept back into those exotic eyes. Her wings folded against her back, and the air stilled to a calm. “Roh—Jaden?”
At least she had caught the verbal slip that time. “Yes.” A wry half-smile curved Jaden’s lips.
Ashra looked past him at the still-sleeping child, and her eyes narrowed. Her slender body quivered in his arms, although he was certain it was from rage, not fear. “Siri lied.”
“Siri?”
“Siri tasted your sister and said that there was nothing extraordinary about her.” She shook off Jaden’s embrace and stalked out of Khiarra’s room. She strode to the table set against the wall and slammed her hand down on its electronic interface. “Siri?”
Siri’s voice, thin and distant, came through the communicator. “Yes, Ashra?”
“Come to my suite. Now.”
“What’s wrong?”
Ashra cut off the communicator and spun around to pace the breadth of the room.
Jaden quietly closed the door to Khiarra’s room, and for good measure, leaned against it. He was almost certain Ashra would not tear through him to get to his sister. “Ashra, what’s wrong?” he repeated Siri’s question.
“She killed Rohkeus.”
“What?”
“Her soul.” Ashra paused her restless pacing to glare at the closed door. Her small hands tensed into claws. Fingernails extended with a slow slither of bone against flesh and curved into talons. “She is the assassin who killed Rohkeus.”
Jaden’s brow furrowed. “No, that’s—” Impossible? Insane? He squeezed his eyes shut. Ashra. My sister. Must I choose between them? He opened his eyes and searched her face. “Are you sure?”
“The memories do not lie.”
But the memories were not his. Indignation or resentment against his sister did not stir in him, let alone anger or hate. Jaden held up his hands. “Ashra, it—”
“Was a thousand years ago?” She bared her fangs at him. “Do you think time lessens the pain? Do you think that because you are now here, the fact that I lost him is irrelevant?”
“No, I’m saying things are different now. We’re not doomed to repeat the past.”
“And we won’t, because she will die.”
“You can’t. She’s my sister.”
“She killed you.”
“In another lifetime, the person she used to be killed Rohkeus. It’s not the same thing. Don’t confuse me with Rohkeus, or my sister with the person she used to be.”
“I will not stand by and wait for her to hurt you.”
“She’s not going to hurt me.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know my sister.” He pressed a hand to his forehead and covered his eyes. The darkness, however brief, allowed him to focus and step outside his emotions. The irony taunted him. He was most comfortable in the darkness he sought to end. He lowered his hand and looked at Ashra. “I’ll sort it out. Just give me time.”
“I don’t have time. The city’s defenses are crumbling, and a daeva army numbering in the thousands controls the Earth. I know that one of the icrathari is consorting with the daevas.” She ground her teeth. “And S
iri…she lied to me.”
“About Khiarra, and you intend to confront her. Why?”
“Why?” Ashra echoed. “Why not?”
“Maybe she didn’t push deep enough. But if she did, and chose not to tell you, what else isn’t she telling you?”
Ashra threw Jaden a sharp glance. “You think she’s the one consorting with the daevas?”
“Unlike Tera, she’s curious and open-minded. If anyone would reach out to the daevas, it would be Siri.”
Ashra turned away from Jaden. She murmured, “And she would. She’s tired of the unrelenting burden of Aeternae Noctis.”
A soft bell chimed.
Ashra cast Jaden a look of caution and went to the door.
Siri stood outside the door, an expression of curiosity on her face. “Why did you send for me?”
Ashra’s face was expressionless, all traces of her anger absent. “I’ll be away from the tower for a few hours. You’ll be in charge while I’m gone.”
“And why couldn’t you tell me this over the communicator?”
“I’ll be with Jaden in the city.”
Siri’s smile widened into a knowing grin. “Ah, yes, it’s probably best if Tera and Elsker don’t know of your romantic escapade. Have fun. I’ll cover for you as long as I can.” She spun around, and with a swish of a sassy hip and flare of her wings, she leapt into the shaft and soared up to the chamber.
Jaden inhaled deeply. The motion did little to slow his racing heart and spinning mind. Ashra had saved him, not once but three times. Perhaps she had come to care for him. Still, the key question remained unanswered: was the icrathari he had come to love in dreams real or merely a memory?
It would do Ashra and him good to leave the city, if only for an hour or two. If he could get her away from the other icrathari, vampires, and even Khiarra—away from the constant reminder of unpleasant duty—perhaps she would relax enough to offer him a glimpse of the icrathari she had once been, the icrathari who had transfixed him in dreams.
Ashra shut the door and turned to him. “About your sister—”
Legends of the Damned: A Collection of Edgy Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels Page 158
