by Aja James
Inanna raised her head in question, saw what her Queen was referring to and looked down once more, a blush suffusing her cheeks.
The intimacy the Queen displayed was not something new; Jade Cicada was a deeply sensual creature who literally hummed with sexual energy no matter where she was, and with whom.
And Inanna was certainly no virgin.
But the male in question whose cock was being steadily and lazily stroked beneath the sheets had the expression of someone holding back great pain, torment, and…shame.
“But perhaps I am not doing you a favor,” Jade continued, still playing idly with her toy. “The Ancients say that such acts engender their own reward. Perhaps your reward will still find you in time.”
“I will not run from it,” Inanna vowed grimly.
Indeed, when she finished here, she intended to go back to Morningside Heights and answer all of Gabriel’s questions, including who and what she was and what she had made him.
“Then so be it,” the Queen stated with finality and waved her hand toward the chamber door.
“Alert the others of last night’s events,” she ordered, turning momentarily serious, “we must snuff out this wildfire before it spreads further.”
“Aye, my Queen,” Inanna answered, rose to her feet and exited quietly.
Jade turned back to her not-quite-lover, her grasp on his hard, swollen member tightening.
“I do believe this is the first time in the many millennia of her long life that the Angel has ever transgressed,” she murmured as if to herself. “I wonder what provoked her to exceed her powerful self-restraint.”
The male made no answer, and she did not really expect one. Surely it would be difficult to form a reply when all the blood had gone to one’s penis rather than to one’s head.
She peered at her gorgeous pet through her lashes.
Hmmm. Perhaps he was miffed at her for torturing him so—his jaw did look as if it might break with the way he was clenching it so tightly.
“It is fascinating what people can be moved to when their emotions are involved, don’t you think?” Her question was muffled against his throat as she leaned in to place a voluptuous kiss there.
“I wonder what it would take to move you,” she said languorously as she bit into his neck.
Seth Tremaine turned his body to give her better access, hands fisted in the sheets at his sides.
He feared not whether he could be moved, but how irrevocably and with what consequences.
*** *** *** ***
Inanna braced her arms on the stainless steel table where multiple giant digital screens sat, playing various angles and images of last night’s fight club.
Her comrade Devlin Sinclair, the Hunter, sat in the leather chair immediately before her, manipulating a virtual keyboard with fingers so fast they were almost impossible to track by sight.
“There,” he pointed to a particular image in the middle screen and slow-moed it back three seconds. "Does that look familiar to you?”
It was a shot of one of the tunnels connecting to the pit. A dark shadow of a figure in flowing robes and oversized hood concealing its hair and face moved stealthily through the passage. That was the only image they had found of the vampire Inanna encountered after reviewing various footage of the night’s events for several hours. Unfortunately the area below and above ground near the Chinatown manhole where the confrontation occurred had no surveillance.
Or if there was, it had been disarmed.
Inanna stared intently at the screen, but she could not be certain of what she saw. “It has to be her,” she finally answered. “There were no other vampires in the vicinity as far as I could detect. But this image doesn’t give us much to go on.”
Unfortunately, Inanna’s ability did not allow her to see through layers in captured images. As such, the identity of the vampire assassin remained a mystery.
“Well,” Devlin drawled nonchalantly, “at least we know it’s a female. That narrows our target population down by fifty percent, give or take.”
Inanna regarded her comrade with two parts chagrin, one part exasperation.
It didn’t matter the urgency, magnitude or direness of any situation, she had never seen Devlin lose his cool. His eyelids were ever at half-mast, as if he were perpetually sleepy or bored and couldn’t be bothered to exert himself in any shape or form.
She knew it was a guise, for his mind was razor sharp, his gaze brilliantly discerning. But there were times…she wanted to light a fire under his ass.
A faint smile hovered near his lips as if he sensed her frustration. “Think about it. Within our ruling perimeter, there are two thousand three hundred and forty-six vampires. Of those, only one hundred eleven are combat-trained. And of that number, a dozen, maybe fifteen if you really stretch it, are capable of evading your whip. Coincidentally, eight of the fifteen are male, seven are female.”
By the time he swiveled around to regard her, Inanna was already smiling back at his cleverness.
“O ho! Serious One,” Devlin teased, “we happen to know the names and locations of all seven of the females in question, two of whom are right here at the Cove, three if you count our Queen, lucky you. Though I’m only guessing about Simone’s abilities. She’s not warrior-class per se, so perhaps we can discount her.”
“Unless the vampire is an outsider,” Inanna said.
Devlin considered this for half a second, “Possible but not likely. Our border security is pretty damn tight, if I do say so myself,” and since Devlin patrolled said borders on a regular basis hunting down rogues and unfriendlies, he should know. “I would have been alerted if a foreigner entered our midst.”
That made things simpler, if it were true.
“The Pure Ones corroborated our conjecture that one of the Chosen might be involved,” Inanna recalled, a frown furrowing her brow, taking up Devlin’s suggestion of starting the investigation close to home.
“Maybe more than one,” Devlin returned, his voice soft but tinged with steel. “It could be me, it could be you for all we know.”
Inanna speared him with a hard look. “It is not you, Hunter, I’d bet my life on it.”
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” he murmured silkily, then leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head in a devil-may-care pose.
“So what do you intend to do? Confront our two comrade in arms, go to Jade herself, and demand to know which of them gorged on human blood last night?”
Vexation, thy name is Devlin, Inanna thought to herself.
“How is our little human doing by the way? You never said whether he lived or died.” Though the question was casually asked, the Hunter’s keen eyes glittered knowingly.
Inanna had not wanted to share the events surrounding Gabriel with anyone outside of the Queen herself, but she needed Devlin’s tech expertise to do some digging and he needed to know what they were looking for. There had been plenty of screen time of Gabriel in the fight pit, shot from a multitude of different angles, but none after he exited into the West tunnel.
“He is of no consequence,” Inanna replied off-handedly, ending their exchange by walking out of the control room.
Devlin stretched like a great big feline in his luxurious leather chair and stared bemusedly at the ceiling fan.
“Maybe not to me,” he said quietly, listening to her boot steps echo down the hall, “but that human is of definite significance to you, Angel.”
*** *** *** ***
The vampire sleekly made her way through the thick darkness that pervaded the dance club, illuminated only by flashes of laser lights from overhead projectors.
No one inside would have known that it was actually midday outside. They likely didn’t know the day of the week, month or year and didn’t care for that matter.
A remix version of Heathens, by Twenty-One Pilots was thumping through the crowded warehouse, so thick with human cattle, a vampire could lock herself inside and gorge for weeks.
&nbs
p; Not this vampire, however. She’d had her fill last night and was still more than satisfied where her bloodthirst was concerned.
Now, as to her other lust… that was lamentably un-satiated still. Which was why she moved purposefully through the human peons, ignoring come-hither looks, boastful words and clumsy grabs.
She knew that she attracted abundant sexual attention, from both men and women, despite the dark and anonymous surroundings. That she dressed in a white bodysuit that looked as if it was painted on her, revealing more of her lean yet voluptuous figure through strategic cutouts than the material concealed, was probably one source of attraction.
But mainly it was her aura. She all but throbbed with danger, hunger and raw sex.
These peasants couldn’t begin to meet her needs, however. She had an altogether different craving.
Disappearing through a private, steel-encased door with an intricate locking mechanism that could only be opened from the inside, her irises dilated further to adjust to the complete blackness that enveloped her. The same song kept playing within the chamber, but sound-proofed walls blocked out all other noise from the club.
“Shouldn’t you be tucked in bed asleep by now?” whispered a sinful voice in the darkness.
The vampire stopped four feet in front of a raised dais piled with furs and pillows. Even with her keen night vision, she could only make out the outline of something reclining casually on the bedding.
“I’ve missed you,” the vampire said, waiting for the creature to invite her closer.
A humorless chuckle ensued. “Have you.” It was not a question, and the tone suggested that the object of her desire could care less.
“I have also brought you tidings,” she continued, a shiver of anxiety crawling up her spine at the lukewarm reception. “Last night’s performance has gone viral as expected. Over three million hits by now globally.”
“Hmm,” came the nonchalant reply, a mere vibration of vocal cords. “And how do you intend to repeat the performance without the star attraction?”
The vampire held her breath. How did it know?
Sharp white fangs flashed bright in the semblance of a smile.
“Did you think to conceal your little faux pas from me? I would have thought that one as ancient and as well-trained as you would have just a tad more control than you exhibited with the human.” A series of tsks followed by a weary sigh traveled to her ears.
The vampire could form no reply.
In truth, she didn’t know why the temptation the human fighter presented had been so irresistible. It was definitely not part of the plan to end his life early: he was ridiculously high in demand by spectators, human and vampire alike. They could have used him at least two or three more times before injuries or death in the pit provided a natural end.
But she did not resist his temptation. She could not. Just the thought of him now made her burn, reminding her why she had come here.
“I will think of something,” she finally said to the creature taunting her. “I always do. Everything is going according to plan. I am here to collect a small reward for my services.”
Silence greeted her. Then, the creature’s upper lip curled back in a toothy smile. Or was it a sneer?
“Come and get it then,” it beckoned.
Anyone else might have paused at the blood-red eyes that stared at her, speared through her, but the vampire had other priorities.
The unpredictable danger made the sex all the more explosive.
“Choose your Blooded Mate wisely, for the Bond shall be irreversible. Enter into it with clarity of mind, wholeness of heart and acceptance of soul. Dark Ones must remember: your other half could be any and all, but always only One.”
—Excerpt from the Lost Chapters of the Ecliptic Scrolls.
Chapter Nine
It was night by the time Gabriel ventured from his room, still unsteady on his feet, just as Benji entered it.
He stayed a while longer to tuck his son in and chat a bit, following Benji from one topic randomly to the next in a pattern of logic only understandable to five-year-olds.
As Gabriel finally kissed the top of Benji’s head goodnight, his son inquired sleepily, “Are you going to marry Nana, Daddy? Will she be my mother?”
Gabriel closed his eyes and held back a sigh. Had it really been less than forty-eight hours since his world had imploded? And it all centered on one woman—Nana Chastain. So help him, he would get his answers now.
To his son, he replied, “We would have to be friends first, Benji. I barely know her.”
“But I do,” the boy said fervently, “I’ve known her forever. I like her a lot. You will too.”
“We’ll see,” Gabriel murmured noncommittally, “good night.”
“Good night, Daddy. I love you,” came the prompt response, the same one every night.
Before he even closed the door, Benji was fast asleep.
Gabriel padded on bare feet, dressed only in borrowed trousers tied loosely at the hips, to the open living and eating area.
All four of his new “friends” sat around the kitchen counter, apparently waiting for him if their identical stares were any indication.
Gabriel raked a hand through his unruly hair, bracing himself for this interview. It looked like he was going to get what he wanted: answers, now.
He grabbed a bar stool on one end of the massive marble island and rested his arms on the counter.
“Tell me,” he commanded without preamble, and no one asked him to clarify.
“Would you like the good news or the bad news?” the youngest of the quartet asked and cringed slightly as if she were already sorry for what he was about to hear.
The Amazon called Aella laid a hand on the younger woman’s shoulder in a clearly communicated “let me handle this” and said:
“We are at war.”
Fantastic start, Gabriel thought but kept his silence.
Whatever crazy speeches got made tonight, he was going to listen to each and every one. Hopefully by the end, the madness would start to make sense.
“There are more races on this earth than the human race,” Aella continued, “at least two that we are intimately familiar with, but I would not be surprised if there are others.”
Somehow, Gabriel didn’t think she meant race as in ethnicity, especially when uttered in the combo phrase “human race.”
“There are the Pure Ones, of which Cloud and I are citizens, and there are the Dark Ones, of which Nana belongs.”
“And Benji and I would be human,” Sophia added, lest Gabriel assumed otherwise. “Sort of.”
The last bit was not reassuring. He noticed that they had not categorized him—yet.
“There are many things to explain, which you will learn over time, but suffice it to say for now that the main difference between our Kind and humans is that we live much longer lives if we stay whole and safe.”
Aella began to count off her fingers. “Because we heal ten times as fast as humans, we seem never to age. Our senses are much keener, and our souls are much older.”
“But once in a while a human is born with a Pure soul when our souls get recycled, because after all, we are not really immortal. It’s just when you’ve lived thousands of years, you might seem that way,” Sophia explained helpfully.
Gabriel gave her a pointed look.
She ducked her head. “Well, not me, I’ve just lived eighteen years thus far and it hasn’t been easy, let me tell you.”
“I thought you said you were human,” Gabriel interjected. His dizziness was worsening by the minute listening to these explanations that explained nothing at all.
“Sophia,” Aella said in a chiding tone when the girl opened her mouth to speak again. Promptly she shut it and huffed, folding her arms, a look of defiance on her face, but she stayed silent.
“We are also physically much stronger,” Aella went on where she left off as if Sophia never interrupted. “We do all the things humans do—drink, eat, slee
p, and so on, but both Pure and Dark Ones have Cardinal rules we must abide by or suffer fatal consequences.”
“You have police like ours to uphold the laws?” Gabriel asked, trying to relate what she was saying to something familiar, mundane.
“Yes, but that is a separate issue,” came the Amazon’s response. “We have warriors who are tasked with catching and bringing to justice those who break our laws. But what I was referring to are the laws of our nature, laws that are biologically programmed into each and every one of us, such that punishment is guaranteed for those who stray.”
Before Gabriel could pursue the topic further, Aella redirected to her original statement, “We are at war, our three races. It has not escalated to common knowledge in the public sphere yet, but war is insidiously eating away at the fabric of our civilization like a rampant disease in hidden corners all over the world. The fight club you’ve been recruited into is the current virus we’re tracking. Someone wants to promote violence, chaos and bloodlust in the human world. We know that certain Dark Ones are involved as financial backers, perhaps even the masterminds behind it all. If this continues, it won’t be long before the mayhem grows beyond the fight clubs. Already we have seen an escalation in deaths by violence—three times the normal average over the last month.”
If the Grim Reaper was an orator, he couldn’t produce a better end-of-the-world monologue, Gabriel thought.
“I take it this is the bad news?” he asked. It wasn’t like him to dish sarcasm left and right, even in his own thoughts. But what was a man to do when the Apocalypse was apparently upon him?
Aella darted a look at Nana Chastain, who had been silent as a tomb thus far. Cloud not speaking Gabriel could understand; the warrior didn’t like to waste his breath, especially since his companion was doing such a bang-up job. But Ms. Chastain had some serious explaining to do.
The woman in question took a deep breath as if to brace herself and looked directly into Gabriel’s eyes.
“You are one of us now. You are a Dark One.”
