Stigmata

by L M Adams

  God, but that man is good. Part of me feels almost giddy that he will be my husband soon – as he says, it will never be boring between us – it may rip my soul to sunder and part the heavens from the earth… but it will never be boring.

  Sebastian returns and he is careful to not be flirtatious with me. He knows what happened here, he knows a freshly punished slaved when he sees one.

  I want to reassure the boy. That this wasn’t his fault. All of what happened here is because of my ever-battling struggle against my insecurities. But sometimes it’s best to just leave well enough alone.

  Lucien goes back to reading his book, but now I know for a fact he is watching and very much aware of me.

  24

  Jaevia

  It’s perfect, my dress is absolutely perfect. My mother is even pleased. Everyone was so worried about me taking the lead on the design, with Nicole’s help of course. But for some reason, I felt sure in my decisions, and I think both of my men will be pleased as well… even if the design is a bit risqué.

  Demetri called me a vision of beauty and grace.

  We’re almost done but I want to see my mother and father framed together. While we wait for my father to put in an appearance, I sit on one of the opulent rose-colored sofas and sip on champagne alongside Demetri. I’m sure Dem would prefer bloodwine, but Nicole doesn’t keep it stocked.

  To Die For, really is a top of the line clothier, and part of me wonders if Dem only tagged along to get an introduction to Nicole. He laid into the flirting and will not let up. To be honest, I’m not sure if it’s because he’d love for her to dress him… or undress him – Nicole would be his type.

  She makes no qualms, or doesn’t seem to want to hide the fact, that she was born a man. It’s like she’s waging her own little war – or at least having her own private pride parade every day.

  I took to her immediately and can see why Kieran uses her as well. She’s discreet and understands the oddities of catering to a supernatural clientele. Mostly, I like her because she understands my desire to be both comfortable and beautiful – and my tendency to be edgy.

  My mother is speaking with one of the seamstresses, she’d like the bust of her already figure clinging dress taken in a bit.

  “Mother, you’re already married you don’t have to dangle the goods.”

  “Lilith bless me, really Jaevia, have you learned nothing from me in all of this time? The best way to keep a man is to dangle it in front of other men. It activates their innate possessive tendencies. You look again like a fresh conquest.”

  Dem raises his glass in salute, “And all the easier to manipulate them.”

  My mother nods, “Jealousy is the easiest emotion to deploy.”

  I groan, “You know, he is my father, do you have to so casually speak about manipulating him?”

  She waves my concern away, “Honestly Jaevia, we are children of the Kindred.”

  As if that explains anything… yet it explains everything. My mother was once a spy, and later, for a short time; the Domina of Peitho – manipulation, subterfuge, sweet words with deadly thorns – it’s sort of her thing. And my Da? My Da was once a Reaper… enforcer and later a strategist, like me. Maybe the games they play is what makes them happy after a life filled with lies and death.

  Taking into account the things I do with Lucien and Jack… perhaps I shouldn’t judge too harshly.

  After all, when my Da walks into the room, his eyes light up seeing my mother.

  “A vision of beauty,” he smiles and walks over to her.

  He always does that, just gravitates to wherever she is. My parents have a lot of faults, and they made a lot of mistakes – my father more so than my mother. But one thing they did right – was show me what love and devotion means to the ones you call your own. There is no doubt, they come first to one another, at least in matters of the heart.

  My mother is a flirt, and probably has a lover or two… or fifty, tucked away on Ra’suá somewhere, but I’ve never known her to flaunt them or give anyone any impression that my father was not her only love. For all I know, my father may very well know about my mother’s merry games. And maybe he lets her have them – she is a daughter of Lilith. He lets her be that, he lets her be what she is.

  He takes her hand and turns her to me, “Well daughter, will we do?’

  I stare at them both as my heart warms, “Beautiful.” I whisper gently.

  He nods, “Good, we must impress. We are after all, mother and father of the Queen.”

  I huff, “I’m not Queen.”

  “You have royal blood running through your veins you are the daughter…”

  “…. Of Modac ap Uthyr, the King of the Wild Hunt.” I raise my glass to the former Eventide slayer.

  Uther Pendragon had two sons, one named Arthur who sat upon the round table and ruled life, and another named Madoc, born from a Fae woman, some say a Dark Queen herself, he ruled death from a throne of bones. At least that is the legend that is told at my family dinner table. What I found out recently is that Madoc hunted trios that had eventide traits. The Kindred, terrified of the power an eventide triad would wield; refused to allow the power to blossom – until me, until they needed someone to fix the sunstone, until it was all falling apart.

  Vicious murderer or not, Madoc was a king. My father grunts and nods, deciding that is the end of that. My father takes great pride that we can trace our lineage back to the foundation of the Kindred, more importantly… that our line has survived.

  Our line had almost ended with Dixon, my father’s first child, his son. But so desperate was the Kindred to breed their perfect eventide, they broke their own law, and gave my father a new Kindred woman to breed with… my mother.

  She can’t trace her lineage to anywhere, she was literally found in a trash heap as a babe. Yet I’ve never known her to seem insecure, or to harbor emotions of low self-esteem – it’s just not my mother’s style.

  Of course they’re parents to royalty, because they are royals themselves and not a single soul in any world will tell them differently.

  With our final fitting done, it’s time for us to rush off to meet with the wedding planner. As Lucien said, Jack really packed it in. We gather in the front foyer, me giving my goodbye to Nicole, and her going over final details for delivery with Jack.

  I study them, Lucien and Jack… something is very odd about Jack’s energy… I don’t want to say subdued, but it is… careful and contained. Lucien’s features are, as usual, stern as he looks at Jack, but there, the left corner of his mouth twitches up in a bit of a smile. That look of deep cockiness he gets after he’s just made one of us be good for him.

  Naughty boys. I turn, hiding my own knowing smile.

  Demetri takes my hands in his. They’re cold and dry… like a corpse from a refrigerator – the man really lives up to the expectations of what it means to be a vampire.

  “This is where I part from you, Vee-Vee,” Dem bats his eyes and I smile.

  “Do you need a ride?”

  He looks to Nicole, “I have someone coming to get me, if I can wait here?”

  She smiles, “A friend of the Eventide Queen is a friend of mine.”

  He looks back to me… a bit slyly, “Yes, I will be just fine in the delicate hands of Miss Nicole.”

  I shake my head at him, “I’ll see you for the bachelorette party.”

  “I only breathe to see you again, my queen.” He steps back and does a perfect full curtsy, lifting up the hem of an imaginary dress.

  God, I laugh, he’s so outrageous. Jack comes and takes my arm firmly, turning me and hurrying me out of the shop. We’re probably running behind.

  My mother and father are going to drive together while I ride with Lucien and Jack.

  Frank and Harper are out front, waiting patiently like good little toy soldiers. As usual, Lucien and Jack get me in the truck. Then they wait until my parents get in their truck, then they get in and finally Harper and Frank into my damn car.
Is it even my car anymore?

  “I’m going to forget how to drive a car soon,” I sigh pitifully.

  Lucien huffs, “You’re exaggerating.”

  “Perhaps a bit melodramatic,” I shrug.

  Lucien gets us underway, leading the procession.

  Jack turns in his seat, “How was the fitting?”

  “Fine,” I smile, “stop worrying, the dress is perfect.”

  He turns back around and waves a hand in the air, “All right, all right.”

  “Dem loved it,” I try to reassure him.

  “I’m not sure how much fashion advice I’d take from a man that wears jeweled codpieces, Jaevia.”

  I scoff, “My mother loved the dress.”

  “Okay,” he nods, “… her I trust.”

  “But not me?” I ask with feigned outrage.

  “Let’s just say your looks is about all you took after your mother on.”

  Luey just roars with laughter.

  “Whatever,” I say in a huff and settle back into my seat, “I can dress pretty if I want.”

  Jack huffs, “If you tell me right now that the thought to wear a smart-ass tee-shirt and a tulle skirt with biker boots never crossed your mind – I’ll shut up about it.”

  I scoff, “Joke’s on you, I don’t even know what tulle is.”

  Jack groans with pain, and Lucien just laughs and laughs.

  I cut my eyes at Lucien, “I don’t know what you find so funny, like you know what tulle is.”

  Lucien grins, “Oh aye I do, ‘tis the small delicate net stuff we’re using to wrap the candles with and the such.”

  Jack and I both look at him… I believe in shock.

  “What is it?” He glances at Jack.

  “Nothing… just... I really didn’t expect you to know.”

  “Oh, aye? You’ve been going on about the color of it for two weeks, I never knew there could be so many shades of purple... Byzantium, Palatinate Purple, Halaya Ube, Eggplant Purple, Aubergine, Boysenberry...” Lucien rattles off impressively, “How could I not know what tulle was?”

  “I didn’t know you paid that much attention.”

  Lucien smiles, “I believe I have already shown you how much attention I pay.”

  The link between us is flooded with a feeling of embarrassment, all coming from Jack.

  “What happened?” I ask, eyebrow raised.

  “Nothing,” Jack snaps a bit too quickly, Lucien just chuckles low.

  I huff, “You know, I didn’t agree to you two keeping secrets from me.”

  “Wench, you are not about to admonish anyone about keeping secrets, are you?”

  “Well…”

  “Because you really wouldn’t have a right.”

  I sigh.

  Jack turns in his seat to look at me, “Lucien punished me for flirting with Sebastian... that’s all.”

  I raise an eyebrow, “You flirted with another man… in front of him?” I jut out a thumb towards Luey, not really believing Jack could be so… dumb.

  He turns back around in his seat, “Yes.”

  Lucien grunts, “It is okay Jaevia, he likes to flirt.”

  “Wait, you’re okay with him flirting with other men?!”

  Luey shrugs.

  “You gave me so much shit growing up when I flirted with other men!”

  “Oh aye I did,” he grins. “Do not fret, he can flirt but he gets punished for it… thoroughly, don’t you Capaneus?”

  “Yes, Master,” Jack whispers.

  And my pussy clenches with need as I imagine the ways Luey made Jack be good and I hate that I wasn’t there to witness it.

  25

  Jaevia

  On the drive to I Vow, Luey keeps checking the rearview mirror and looking away quickly with a smirk painted on his face. Curious, I turn in my seat and see my father swerving on the road. The black SUV gliding out of the lane and then him quickly jerking back to following directly behind us. I know my father isn’t the greatest driver – but he’s better than that.

  “What is going on?” I ask softly.

  “What?” Jack asks softly.

  “My father is driving…” and just at that moment I see my mother’s head rise up from my father’s lap as she settles back into her seat.

  “Oh my god,” I whisper, horribly mortified, as she has the audacity to give me a little wave.

  I turn back around in a rush and use my hand to cover my mouth.

  “What?” Jack asks again, now turned around to look at me.

  “I can’t take her anywhere,” I whisper unsure of how to really feel about it.

  Yes, okay, sure – I’ve given my fair share of car ride blowies, but god, they’re like two hundred years old, you would think they’d you know… grow up.

  Lucien begins chuckling low, finding that shit just hilarious.

  “Really what?!” Jack asks again, starting to get agitated.

  “Kendon was getting a thank you for wearing the underwear,” Lucien says, disrespectful laughter filling his voice.

  “What underwear?” I snap and then immediately regret it.

  I hold up a hand, “No, no… I don’t want to know. The less I know in fact, the better.”

  We ride the rest of the way to I Vow with me trying to think of anything other than my mother giving my father a blowy.

  Luckily for me, the building also sits in downtown D.C. in the District – not far from To Die For, and soon I have something to distract me from thinking of my parents… escapades.

  This is the area where the upper echelon shops and rubs elbows with other rich people. I’m now one with the rich people. Never wanted to be, but I am. Because money is power, money is safety. We needed money to fund our army, all because I thought I’d be fighting for mankind. But now I have money and no people to fight for so instead I buy cake; life is funny like that at times.

  I Vow is another brick and mortar place, large and privately owned by Elizabeth Martel or Izza for short. She is one of the lost souls from Ra’suá; but she doesn’t seem to mind… being a lost soul. She came to human earth a hundred years ago or so. Originating from the House of Peitho she fled the Second Great War; the Kindred let her go seeing she’d already given them her child – a child she hasn’t seen or heard from since. No one needs to ask why she didn’t migrate back; the Kindred has ways of tearing down a soul; I would know. She didn’t go back to Ra’suá when the Kindred called back all the daemons and Kindred citizens; I doubt anyone really cared. On the power scale of daemons, she barely registers.

  She doesn’t have much actual magic, other than of course having a certain touch when it comes to event planning – especially weddings. She would’ve ended up being a low-level clerk in the House of Wôdan if she’d stayed on Ra’suá.

  But here…. Izza has done well for herself in this human world, especially now that she’s ‘out’. Like quite a few supernaturals, being ‘out’ has helped her business tremendously. Her selling point is that she is a descendant of the Goddess Hera – the Goddess of marriage herself and a light fae; her slogan is I vow a touch of magic.

  So far, I’ve been really impressed with her know-how, and I find her a bit cute.

  We park in front of the building and again I wait for the song and dance of the security sweep. This time I manage not to let out a hefty sigh once Jack comes to open my door for me. I do have to say, with Dem around all these little irritations in my life seem to melt into the background. He knows how to keep me distracted.

  “My queen,” Jack murmurs as he takes my arm in his.

  “My king,” I whisper back to him.

  His eyes light up with pleasure, “Only because you make me so.”

  I huff, “You were a king long before you met me.”

  “Only a darkling prince, and a disgraced one at that.”

  “I love my men with a bit of disgrace and debauchery,” I smile at him wishing him to know that none of what he was before matters to me – because with me he is something new –
he is mine.

  “I have plenty of both to still offer you.”

  I hum low, “Have you been holding out on me?”

  “I play a very long game,” his eyes filled with devilment.

  Jack… much like Azazael, can be a mischief maker. I wonder if that’s how it all started between Azazael and Eve – harmless fun that turned dark and dangerous and all the more tantalizing.

  I would be concerned if I hadn’t already thrown caution to the wind when it comes to Jack. Come hell or highwater he is mine and I am his.

  We turn to the building, Lucien waiting patiently for us by the glass doors, seeming very pleased for some reason. My parents are already inside the plain brick building and I hurry to catch up with them before my mother does something insane like order ten-thousand roses… my mother does not understand restraint when shopping – not one bit.

  Although the outside of I Vow doesn’t look like much, the inside is almost breathtaking. We step into the open floor plan, large expanses of natural wood floors, the open metal stairs that go up to each level – each level being open floor plans. The rough brick walls with silver accents, red and taupe furniture strategically placed about. It’s obvious Izza has a taste for design.

  It always smells of apples and vanilla here – honestly not sure if it’s her race trait scent or she has a few of those little scented candles positioned about. Whatever it is, I love the smell.

  “Jaevia!” I hear her shout and look up to see her waving from the second floor, almost hanging over the balcony edge.

  She’s one of those creatures that has a zest for life… something I’m hoping to recapture for myself.

  The men wander off to do god knows what as Izza comes down the stairs to greet us.

  She’s a bit shorter than me, dark long wavy hair, a pretty light brown complexion with reddish undertones that she makes pop with perfectly applied makeup. Izza is what some people call thick, the kind of woman a vampire can sink their fangs into. Luscious thighs, tantalizing hips, an ass to die for – her breasts round and heavy… a long slender neck leading up to a pretty round face with dark brown mysterious eyes. She really fucking does it for me, I’d go down on that given half a chance… but I’m not sure if I could be satisfied with just a taste and I’m really not sure if she swings that way.