Stigmata

by L M Adams

“Aye,” Lucien pants and withdraws from me slowly.

  I breathe through the pain as I pull up my pants. Fuck, I’m going to hurt once the adrenaline leaves.

  “Aren’t you two supposed to be on the hunt? Instead, I find you playing hide the sausage.”

  Lucien laughs, “Aye, we will go once the Bloodsucker has cleaned up the pudding…” Lucien’s voice drops, “he likes privacy.”

  I turn around to face my mates, frowning. “You know you two don’t have to talk about my… business like I’m not standing right here.”

  Jaevia smiles in that way that she has, when she’s filled with laughter but trying not to outright laugh.

  I sigh, I’m never going to win.

  Her expression changes suddenly, to one of concern, “Your face is bruised.” She rushes over to me and grabs me by my chin to get a better look and my evil heart decides to take vengeance.

  I sniff and nod, “Lucien beat me up.”

  Her eyes cut to the larger man, “He did what?!” She hisses.

  “And he cut me up… my back and my leg,” I add pitifully, “I had to get stitches.”

  She turns on Lucien, fire in her eyes, “I told you to take care of him!”

  “Wench…”

  “Don’t you Wench me! He doesn’t have his powers to heal and here you are abusing him?!”

  He looks to me, mouth hanging open with shock. I give him a half smile and start to hobble back to our rooms before Jaevia can detect the game I’m playing, “I’m not even sure I can seat a horse, he likes it so rough… you saw him.”

  “You know your cock is massive why are you having rough sex with him in such a delicate area?! You are supposed to have better control than this Lucien, I trusted you! We both agreed we’d lay off the pain while he doesn’t have his abilities! I cannot believe you would hurt him like this.”

  Neither of them can see my smile as I hobble to the bath to clean up his pudding. That ought to teach him.

  By the time I’ve cleaned up and returned, Lucien still stands solemnly, head hanging, still being cussed out by our wife as she paces back and forth.

  “You promised me you had a handle on things… I understand that he’s the one you go to for this sort of thing Lucien but for once you could have put his needs above your own. I don’t care what he did, I don’t care what he said – you are the primary dominant! How am I supposed to trust you with him now?!”

  “Jae…”

  “And another thing! You marked him without his powers, how could you take such a risk?! That couldn’t have waited until we got home? I cannot believe you could be so reckless with our husband… stitches Lucien?! He had to get stitches because of some macho man bullshit?! Because he challenged you in front of everyone?! I don’t give a shit if he challenged you in front of Ra himself, you do not take blades to our husband when he doesn’t have his abilities! You could have fought bare fisted… did you choose that?”

  Lucien doesn’t say anything.

  “Well did you?!”

  “No, Wench,” Lucien mumbles.

  That sets her off into another tirade.

  Goddess she’s fetching, in a simple black frock with golden accents, her feet done in pretty purple sandals, her hair has been braided back in cornrows with golden accents woven into her braids. I can’t believe she actually married me. Even now, even still, I never knew pledging my heart to her would give me so much joy.

  I join them on the patio and grab her wrist turning her to me while she’s mid tirade, deciding Lucien has had enough of her tongue lashing.

  She falls into my arms fitting so perfectly, “Let’s forgive him… this time.” I cut my eyes at the now curtailed Lucien.

  “It is up to you,” she huffs at Lucien.

  I nod, “I’m sure he’s sorry, aren’t you Lucien?”

  He growls under his breath.

  “Lucien!” She snaps.

  “Oh aye, I’m sorry.”

  I’m sure he’s plotting his revenge, yet I don’t mind. To the victor goes the spoils of war – and I play to win.

  I smile at his fierce profile, I’m sure if he didn’t love me, he’d kill me. “You should go get cleaned up, we’re already late.”

  He turns sharply and stomps back into the rooms. I look down at my fetching wife.

  “I’ve missed you,” I murmur softly.

  “And I’ve missed you,” she smiles back up at me.

  What’s a man to do but kiss the girl? I lower my lips to hers and relax into the taste of her. Goddess knows I’ve missed her, the taste, the feel, the smell. No other could compare to Jaevia, none.

  I break the kiss, breathing heavily, “Until tonight?”

  She nods, “Until tonight.”

  And it’s hard for us to let go of one another, the way it’s supposed to be. It should always be hard to let go of the ones you love.

  I leave her and go to wait out in the hallway to keep from fucking her silly, we’re late enough as it is, and I’ve never minded letting the anticipation build.

  The hallway is empty, people already out and working to prepare for the solstice celebration. The children of Atum go to hunt, the children of Isis prepare the halls and the feasts, the children of Ishtar prepare the entertainment… which by my understanding is more a lesson or a dance of histories to pass down the story of the bond between Atum, Isis, and Ishtar.

  Now that I’m mostly okay with being here… I’d like to find out more about the cursed ones… the nosferatu. No one seems to say much about them… maybe I can ask Saabir, he seemed kind enough towards me last night.

  The walls are all covered in paintings or hieroglyphs. Things I wouldn’t even be able to start to understand, yet I feel a connection to it all. Is it the beauty of it? The skill? Or some other memory of magic that knows me?

  I turn as our chamber door opens, Lucien, now cleaned up and pissed the fuck off, joins me with a fierce frown. I’m guessing he didn’t have as pleasurable of a goodbye with our wife as I did.

  I smile.

  “Wipe that smug grin off of your face before I beat it off!”

  I enjoy the last laugh… for now.

  120

  Jack – Solstice Hunt

  We reach the large main archways of the palace, the sun still doing little more than peeking above the horizon. The size of everything here still takes my breath away. The tall golden clay walls stretch up into the sky as if even the heavens above are a part of Atum’s domain. Yet looking at the people here… how could it not. These people are more than people…. They are more than what we become.

  A hunting party of about twenty are gathered under the arches, with horses. They actually held the hunt for us. Although, perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised. Lucien is Raja, or they hope he will be at least.

  They don’t seem at all bothered they have had to wait on us… but then I don’t imagine anyone would become bothered with Lucien… they love him too much.

  All of the men are dressed in either shendyts or tightly woven pants. Both Lucien and I fall into the pants department. I’m not comfortable enough to wear a shendyt – it’s not so much the skirt part that bothers me, it’s the lack of muscles. I’ve never been self-conscious about my body until coming to these lands. Pure blood vampires are typically thinner than other species, we have to work at putting on muscle, which I have – yet still it wouldn’t even compare to the sheer physical presence of the people here.

  Two large black stallions, or what I think are stallions stand at the ready. Even the horses are larger than anything I’ve ever seen before and I’ve seen my fair share of horseflesh. They almost seem more mythical than real. But perhaps that is true of everything of these lands. I know the future, and I know all of this will fall sway to the sands of time and these lands, and these peoples will be lost in history as if it never existed; or at best, they will become stories in mythic always shadowed in doubt that any of it was ever real.

  Being here is… complicated.

  The lead party, our
party, is comprised of ten sons and three daughters of Atum, along with Keyon and another young son acting as something like squires? Or at least that’s the closest approximation to Keyon’s function since he’s joined our party. The boy is always bubbling about with excitement, quick to help, just happy to be here. He’s probably quite popular with the young sons because he knows us.

  I have to admit; I’ve grown fond of him. I don’t meld as well with children as Lucien and Jaevia do. I like kids well enough; the continuity of a species is important and all, but I don’t have that instant familial connection to them.

  To be honest, I’m not sure if that’s just not another painful inheritance my father left me. Do I begrudge children because my own childhood was taken? Do I fear the joy I see in Keyon’s eyes being snuffed out like my own was when the cold hard realities of life came crashing down on me so heavily? Am I still bitter about Angelica?

  “Come Hari… Capaneus, we are already late,” Nassor says sitting his horse, seeming even more massive than usual.

  I grin, “I apologize, our wife returned to our chambers and Hari here was busy getting a tongue lashing… and not the fun kind.”

  “Capaneus!” Lucien barks at me, I just smile harder.

  Nassor lets out a roar of laughter which just raises Lucien’s hackles further. A roll of heat leaves him smelling of spice and honey.

  I ignore his ire and gain the massive stallion, which does take a concentrated effort on my part. When I sit my ass feels like it’s being ripped in two all over again and I wince with pain, gritting my teeth.

  Lucien turns around before gaining his horse to look at me, his eyes full of concern. Even after I got him in trouble with our wife, he’s still concerned.

  I mouth to him, ‘I’m okay’, and he nods curtly before getting on his own horse.

  That’s what love is – it isn’t all pretty words and hot sex; it’s being mad at the person you call your own and still giving a damn about them.

  Lucien brings up his horse to ride beside me as we make our way through the palace gates and into the city of Atum. I relax into the pain of riding as I look out at the city. The buildings are all made of stone or large slabs of marble. Even with the aid of magic, the feats are impressive. Not just the magnitude of everything, but also the skill and the artistry.

  Everything is peppered with life – trees and flowers, bushes and vines, a touch of green with Isis’s beauty abounding, along with Atum’s building, and Ishtar’s planning – they made this a place all can be proud to call their home. This is the first time I’ve really looked at the city; we used the water port to come in and while Jaevia and Lucien went on to exploring this testament to time, imagination, and ingenuity… I sulked in the corner like a petulant child.

  Perhaps one day I’ll forgive myself for my foolishness. I’ll consider the pain of riding a horse after having my asshole plundered by a god a fair penance… at least the start of one.

  I shift again trying to find a position which takes off some of the pressure as we finally reach the outer edge of the city.

  “You did not have to come,” Lucien whispers under his breath.

  “What, and let you have all of the fun?”

  He sighs, “Do you even know how to hunt…”

  “Yes,” I snap.

  “With a spear?”

  “A spear?” I ask now realizing we’re approaching a group of men and women holding spears. The group of people are scantily dressed and wear golden ankhs on their arms. Children of Isis to wish the hunters of Atum good fortune on their hunt.

  As the hunters ride past, they’re each handed a long golden tipped spear by the Isis’s. I sigh, what have I gotten myself into?

  “Raja! Raja!” They all yell and clamber to be the one to hand Lucien a spear, he just grabs the closest one and keeps riding, not even sparing them a second glance – and I dare say, I wouldn’t have kicked a single one out of my bed… in my former life, when I was a bit of a rogue.

  Of course he’s the guy I thought was cheating on me? He’s the definition of obtuse.

  The more I think about my behavior the more foolish I feel.

  Lucien shows me the little slot on my saddle to stick my spear in to secure it to my horse. Once we clear the city gates, we take off in a gallop and I grit my teeth. My only blessing is that I used a bit of Saabir’s ointment on myself. If I hadn’t, I imagine I’d be rolling around on the ground in agony right now.

  The horses seem to hardly touch the ground they run so fast. I glance over to Lucien and see him grinning as he gives his horse it’s head, and I follow suit.

  Lucien will never be a creature of a castle, he’s half wild and he needs that wild, he needs to let free the part of his heart that will never be tamed, because this is what it means to him to have joy.

  He tolerates the city for Jaevia, he tolerates silk sheets and fine china for me – but by god when he has a chance to enjoy being who he is, he digs into it and what kind of husband would I be if I didn’t dig into it with him?

  We lead our party on a merry chase, pushing ourselves, our horses, into the wilds of the Alkebulan savanna beyond. The morning horizon filled with tall grass and peppered with trees here and there. I can hear the lion roar in my heart and suddenly I see the projection of a black lion shimmering with gold project over top of Lucien’s head.

  He will take the mantel of the lion; he will become the next incarnation of Ra – if he wishes it so or not. I know like all of them know, he was born to rule an empire – he was born to be a god.

  121

  Jack and the Gazelle

  When we are well far away from the city of Atum, Lucien finally slows his horse, giving it and my asshole, a break. We’ve pulled pretty far away from the others.

  “Now we are even,” he says with a grin.

  “Oh, you’re… you’re…” I stop my horse in pure shock at the level of his deviousness. Perhaps he’s learned too many of my tricks.

  He laughs aloud as I seethe trying to catch my breath. He rounds his horse until we’re beside one another, facing each other, our thighs pressed together. He grabs me by the back of my head, still breathing as hard as me, and drags me in, touching our foreheads together.

  “Thank you, Capaneus, thank you for spending the day with me. I see your giving and I thank you for it.”

  He lets me go, turns his horse back around and again he’s off, and again I chase after him, because well… shit I’m in love and suffering isn’t so bad when it’s appreciated.

  We ride for another thirty minutes before he stops near a lone tree and dismounts. I stop my horse a few yards back just so I can appreciate looking at him. We’re in the middle of nowhere, nothing but an ocean of long golden grass abounding. He walks out into that long grass, his skin seeming to glow with power. I will fade into a pile of dust and bone before I ever figure out how I got him to love me.

  Me, a fallen son, a descendant of Set, a betrayer of betrayers – yet here he is and here I am.

  He looks at me, flashing a smile. I lead my horse over to his and get off with a low groan.

  “I wish you would heal, Capaneus.”

  “I’m fine,” I turn to face him, frowning.

  He huffs and goes over to his horse getting his spear. “I do not like it when you are in pain.”

  “I’m always in pain,” I whisper the truth of it, and he hangs his head.

  “Maybe one day you won’t have to be?”

  “Maybe… one day,” and I cannot be sure if it is a truth or a lie. My pain is just one of those complicated things that has no real place in the world. One of those things that just is and somewhere the reason for its existence stopped mattering long ago and yet it is still… here.

  He doesn’t respond and I turn to look back towards the city of Atum, there in the distance I can still spot it, but if we ride a few more miles, it would be gone from sight.

  The others are no more than a few minutes behind us, I’m sure.

  “Come I
will show you how to throw a spear,” he turns from his horse, long spear in hand.

  I grab my own from the side of my saddle and test the weight of it, “It’s balanced oddly.”

  “Aye, these are made especially to be thrown from above and drive down in a steep line.”

  He steps back a few paces, “Here, watch.”

  I stand to the side as gets down in almost a runner’s stance, he holds the spear up by his head, the grip a bit further back than I would expect. Even the grass seems to quiet as I watch him exhale slowly, I can feel the muscles of his thighs contract as he takes of running forward and just when he reaches me, he leaps into the air, turns and throws the spear at me. I’m too afraid to fucking move, the long weapon drives down into the ground an inch from my foot.

  “Fuck,” I whisper as the wood shaft vibrates with power still.

  “From behind and above, strike down, strike hard, strike true. The prey will fall and feel little pain. We must do all things with reverence and kindness,” he walks over to the spear and yanks it from the earth.

  I look up to him and nod, understanding. We aren’t hunting for game or for sport – but for the sustenance needed for his… our people. Do so with an honorable heart, don’t put the animal in more pain than is necessary, don’t feed on the fear… give more than you take.

  He explains to me where I want to strike and how, quartering away, above, at a downward spiral. The spear will drive in high above the ribcage and strike down into the lungs and heart with one blow.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t,” I look at him worried. I don’t want to mess up… it wouldn’t be right.

  He just raises his eyebrow, “It is up to you, but do not fear your mistakes, we all had to learn. I support you in all things.”

  Of course he has to say that, look at me like that. Always ready to encourage me. Ever since he’s become my dominant, he’s supported me, encouraged me, challenged me to try new things. From music, to cooking… to love. With him I feel like anything is possible and even if it isn’t, he’ll just inspire me to try again. Dominance and submission are just different with him.