by Marian Tee
As she whipped away her crotchless drawers – the strangest of them all, really – George shook her head at the utter silliness of it all. These Chalysians had the most stupid obsession with protecting their chastity using multiple layers of underwear. Haven’t they heard of condoms, for heaven’s sake? Or maybe – God forbid – abstinence?
She was almost 25 years old, and she had not needed to wear two pairs of panties every day to still be a virgin at this age. Maybe George should write to the Mayor of Asphodel to let him know that?
From the bed, Desire watched her friend slip into modern clothing – the kind she sometimes glimpsed in imported fashion magazines. Although George’s outfit was not as elegant – well, it was not elegant at all if she was being honest – they did look terribly comfortable.
“Are you sure you’re doing this?” Desire had to ask again. Sure, she had always dreamt of running away – of escaping the dreary monotony of her life as a chaperone, but that was it. It was a dream she would never have thought to make a reality– unlike George.
“I just can’t breathe anymore, Des.” George’s voice was muffled as she pulled the large baseball jersey over her head. “All my life, I’ve been traveling and taking photos and now I’m stuck with---what?” She made a face at Desire as she pulled on her jeans. “Going to dances, drowning myself in herbal water---”
“You know this household only ever uses the finest English tea.” Desire pretended to be offended even as a smile tugged at her lips. She had never met anyone like George, but she was thankful she had. Her friend was so…wild, and now George was like an exotic bird that had found itself caged, struggling to be set free
“I’m going to be fine, I promise. I studied the maps carefully. I know what I’m doing.”
Desire bit her lip to keep herself from nagging George like a mother. Everyone who said that was typically never seen again. Although venturing alone into the Woods of the Wraiths was like a coming-of-age initiation for Chalysian kids, most of them were smart enough not to do so in the dark of the night. Those who did, well – it was one of the reasons why there were so many empty coffins buried in the cemetery.
They were just not seen again.
When she glanced back at George, her jaw dropped at the sight of her friend climbing out of her window – her third-story attic-turned-bedroom window. Desire ran to the sill. “George,” she hissed in alarm. “What are you doing?”
“Umm, leaving?”
“B-but why not use the front door?”
In the middle of securing the strap of her Polaroid around her neck to make sure it wouldn’t fall off, George paused to look at Desire with surprise and not a little sadness. From the very first day she was virtually dragged kicking and screaming to the Countess’ household by Chalysian law authorities, she and the green-eyed redhead had hit it off. Desire was older than her by a year, but most times George saw Desire like a younger sister.
She was just so…nice.
George sighed miserably. She hated it, just plain hated it when it was left to her to make Desire aware of life’s unpleasant realities. “You don’t know, do you?”
Desire slowly shook her head. “What do I not know?”
She said awkwardly, “The third floor’s main door is locked from the outside. Lady Beyotch---”
Desire’s lips twitched. Although Lady Beryl was George’s step-aunt, her friend had never called the older lady that.
“---locks it herself at nine every evening,” George finished.
Her friend’s words sank in, and Desire blinked. “I don’t understand---”
George winced. “Basically, it means we’re imprisoned here every night.” The confusion on Desire’s face made George wish she could take her words back. Maybe she could have worded it differently? God, when would she ever learn not to be tactless? It was the very reason why she hadn’t been successful at husband hunting even after all the parties she had attended.
After swinging both legs over the sill, George squeezed Desire’s hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry – I managed to take the key from her and had it copied.”
Shock replaced Desire’s confusion. “You what?”
“It’s not like I stole it,” George said defensively. Desire might be sinfully beautiful, but she was not aptly named. Talking to her friend was like talking to an angel – one always felt there was a need to go to confession afterwards.
“Think about it, Des,” George insisted. “Say there’s a fire – do you think any of them will even consider helping us? I don’t think they’ll even call 911---”
“777,” Desire automatically corrected. “And of course, the family will---”
“No. There’s no ‘of course’ about it. We need to be practical. If something goes wrong, we need to rely on ourselves. That’s the best thing we can do, and it’s why I also made a copy for you. I placed it under the loose plank in your room, the one where you keep your diary---”
“George!” Desire didn’t know if she wanted to hug or shake her friend.
“I did not peek, I swear to God. But come on, if you really want to hide it – you need to be less obvious. You placed all your books on top of that one loose plank when everything in your room is spic and span. Of course I had to check it out.” George looked at her watch and cursed under her breath. “Ah, shit. I really need to go. And if for whatever reason someone tries looking for me – make sure they think you know NOTHING.”
Before Desire could answer, George had already grabbed the largest of the branches within arm’s reach, swung her body towards it, and then she was climbing down faster than a monkey.
George waved at her when she was safely on the ground.
Desire waved back weakly, throat bobbing with fear. If someone did look for George, she would of course cover for her friend. But that was not what she was worried about.
Desire glanced at the sky, the fullness of the moon making her swallow harder. She looked down again, but George had already disappeared from sight. Please keep her safe, Desire prayed. A full moon might mean a glorious night in most parts of the world, but not here – never in Chalys.
****
Silviu Draghici was about to lose his soul.
The reality of it should have been terrifying, but not for Silviu. He had always known it was possible – the same way he also knew he would rather fall on his sword than let Hell claim him.
It was a long time coming, but now he had to stay true to his words. It was the only choice, and Silviu was ready.
He descended soundlessly on Chalys, his broad black wings whipping the air mightily from behind his back. As Silviu balanced himself on the very edge of the treacherously steep gorge, a tremor ran through the entire dukedom of Brimstone, the land paying homage to its master.
The Duke was back.
It was a fact recognized instinctively by the otherworlders dwelling in his domain. Asleep or awake, whatever the denizens of his dukedom were involved in – it did not matter. The hairs on their skin would stand up and the ground underneath them would tremble.
Silviu was Brimstone. What he felt, his land would show.
By the time Silviu landed on his feet, his wings folding to a close, the permanent wound over his heart was burning. It was the mark of his blood bond with the Galeré, and one by one they came to him.
Mihail was first, walking towards Silviu without any fanfare as was the half-vampire’s wont. “Welcome back, Your Grace.”
Silviu acknowledged his second-in-command with a brief smile. “You look as if you are already grieving for me, my friend. Must you be eternally prompt, even with my passing?”
Before Mihail could answer, Silviu heard the swooshing sound of water from behind, as if the stream below had suddenly risen to spectacular heights. Splashing footsteps followed.
Even without turning, Silviu’s eyes were already gleaming with amused recognition. “Adrijan.” He twisted his head to welcome his comrade with a nod, just in time to see the half-cetus step off a slide
of water.
Ancient Greeks called the ceti “sea monsters”, which modern day historians then erroneously translated as “whales”. Of course, both were wrong. The ceti were water guardians, the greatest of them all, and they commanded the beasts that dwelled in the uncharted depths of the ocean.
And yet when Silviu faced Adrijan, the younger man’s face lacked the gentleness inherent of his kind, and his voice was even grimmer when he spoke. “That was not a good joke to make, Your Grace.”
Before Silviu could answer, a menacing howl stabbed the air. A larger-than-life wolf with snow-white fur and eyes the color of a silver moon landed just beside Silviu, the rather fantastic impact crushing the ground under its forepaws.
It was the usual grand entrance to be expected from Ilie Marcovici.
You have always had the worst sense of humor, Your Grace, Ilie chided lightly through the blood bond the four of them shared.
It was not a joke.
Well, it fucking should be, Adrijan retorted.
We must face facts. Silviu’s tone remained calm. When I die, the demon lords will not waste any time in trying to take over Brimstone. You must all be prepared for this – and I want you to make use of the siren’s song to call for aid.
If you die, all of the creatures you tried so hard to save will hide like the cowards they are, Mihail predicted cynically.
Even so – you must give them a chance.
It’s the angel in him, Mihail, Ilie said laughingly. You know how it is.
Mihail did not answer, but his rage was palpable.
Silviu shook his head. Mihail---
Just choose any fucking woman, Mihail exploded. Any fucking woman will do as your heartkeeper – you have it in your power to give a woman anything she could ever want in this world! So give it to her and LIVE!
No.
Adrijan sucked in his breath, as if the word was a punch aimed straight at his guts.
I will not do what my father did to my mother.
No one spoke at Silviu’s words. He knew he was being unfair, using Magdalene’s name to force his Galeré into obedience. But he had to do what he was meant to do, and that was to save Brimstone and the rest of the kingdom at all costs.
We will do as you say, Mihail said finally, and Silviu knew he was speaking for the other two as well.
I have always known you will, my friends. But thank you.
The white wolf shuddered. This is beginning to feel too much like the Agony in Gethsemane – and it’s a fucking irony that we are all demon bastards.
Even Mihail cracked a smile at that.
“Well,” Silviu said out loud, “I hate to break it to you, Ilie, but it will only get more similar as I need you all to leave so I can...think.” Silviu could not make himself say he would be “praying”. His relationship with God was best summed up with that clichéd phrase from Facebook.
It’s complicated.
And that was fucking right, considering he was the offspring of an angel raped by a demon.
Just remember, Ilie said. Judas was the one who first greeted Jesus after he prayed in Gethsemane.
Silviu only smiled in response, but it did not reach his eyes this time. His gaze shuttered. I have failed you, Mother. I am sorry. When Silviu opened them again, Mihail and Adrijan were down on one knee while Ilie had his head bowed.
We will serve you until the day we die, Your Grace, Mihail said simply.
And then they were gone, leaving Silviu alone, as he was destined to be when faced with his death.
For a long moment, Silviu remained standing there, lost in his own memories. He cut a tall and proud figure with his traditional elegant clothes, his chiseled features bearing the stamp of his royal lineage.
Yet the most arresting part of Silviu Draghici was the aura that surrounded him, invisible yet intoxicating, the rawness of his sexuality akin to a brush of heat against the skin of any woman within a one-mile radius.
Even with the isolating sense of loneliness gripping Silviu, he remained a man who beguiled without even trying. Every inch of him was perfection – the broad shoulders, the rock-hard chest, the long and strong legs…and because he was the son of Lilu, the greatest incubus of all, a woman did not need to see Silviu naked to be aroused. Just one blazingly hot look from his eyes could easily rival the pleasure she would derive from another man’s cock. Just one fucking look…and she would come, and come, and come.
A neighing sound made Silviu look up, and the heaviness inside him eased a little as his trusted steed came close. “One final run, eh?”
The horse nodded its head. As one of the last living descendants of Pegasus, Granite possessed not only wings concealed within his shiny coat but also the ability to bond with chosen beings.
Once Silviu was on his back, Granite ran, his thundering hooves scattering pebbles in his wake. They traveled with blindingly fast speed, turning demon duke and horse into a shadowy blur as they half-flew, half-galloped through the Woods of the Wraiths.
Granite slowed down upon reaching its borders on the west, the inhospitable towering cliffs overlooking the sprawling city of Brimstone. Normally filling his heart with a deep-seated joy, the sight sharpened Silviu’s loneliness.
Sensing his master’s mood, Granite moved tensely underneath Silviu, nostrils flaring.
“Easy, boy,” Silviu murmured, stroking Granite’s flanks before pulling the reins back so that the horse would retreat a safe distance from the cliff.
He told Granite quietly, “Let’s go home.” Silviu had to say his farewells to his other subjects, however painful it may be. And the kingdom had to be protected at all costs, which required Silviu to name an heir before he surrendered to the Light.
As Granite turned towards the secret path leading to Silviu’s castle, the unexpected cracking of broken twigs whispered to Silviu, forcing both duke and horse to become still.
“Fuck.” The word, coming out quite crisp, was spoken by a distinctly feminine voice.
One noble brow shot up, Silviu unable to believe that within the Woods of the Wraiths, a place most otherworlders dared not venture into at this time of the night, a human girl walked alone.
Did this girl know she was past the safe borders? Humans were meat here. Silviu’s subjects were predators at heart. They would tear this girl apart limb by limb at the sound of her approach, feasting on her flesh and gnawing on her bones until there was nothing left for her family to mourn.
“Dammit.”
As the girl continued to throw out invectives, Silviu inhaled deeply, needing to know more about her. Her scent came to him, fearless, untamed, and utterly innocent. The scent was immensely tantalizing to his kind, whetting Silviu’s appetite. For so long his desires for the flesh had slumbered, the responsibilities weighing on his shoulders burying them deep.
The scent lingered. Lust struck. Silviu shuddered.
I guess I deserve one last good fuck before I die.
And it would be a very good fuck, for the scent calling out to Silviu was so sweet it could only be from the most nubile of virgins, one whose fiery passions could only be coaxed to burn by the right man.
Most times, Silviu did not care to be Lilu’s son. Tonight, he would use it to his advantage, intent on fucking this sweet temptation to within an inch of her sanity. He would take her, over and over, until Silviu’s name became the only word she could utter.
The girl was speaking again. His eyes widened. Was he truly hearing…?
Silviu’s head cocked to the side as he focused his senses on the girl-woman – she seemed like it, someone who was of the right age but whose innocence made her smell and feel so much younger.
She was still miles away, but she was also making good time. She was halfway into the woods now, unknowingly treading on increasingly thinner ice the deeper she lost herself in this part of Chalys.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Ah, so he had heard right.
“Shitty…damn…luck!”
She truly was n
ot yet done cursing.
Silviu’s lips curved into a smile, the wickedness of it like the most forbidden of caresses. This girl-woman had the dirtiest mouth he had ever encountered – a trait Silviu usually disliked in his women, but with her it was fucking sexy, incomprehensibly so.
“Goddamn shitty…” Click. Click. Click.
The sound slashed the smile out of him.
“Why won’t you work?” Presumably, the girl was talking to her camera. Her camera – which was one of the things all visitors were expressly forbidden to bring into his city.
Each clicking sound chilled Silviu’s blood further, killing the heat of his lust. His incubus side retreated, leaving the cold-blooded angel in control. Now, Silviu did not view her as a desirable woman. Now, he simply saw the human as a possible threat to the safety of his city and his subjects.
