by HR Moore
'His work is important, and he cares about the people he helps.'
'And you got married in a hotel. Does that even count as a real wedding?'
'Stop baiting me.'
'My dear, I assure you, I'm doing nothing of the sort.'
'Don't call me that.'
'My favorite wedding of ours was under the stars, on the French Riviera.'
The French Riviera … something about the French Riviera … 'Oh God … the perfume?'
'See, your sleeping brain remembers.'
'Wait … the perfume … the hair and makeup artists? You sent them?'
'No, I didn't. I told them not to get involved, but they're impossible.'
'You're lying.'
'I most certainly am not. I'll call them here right now. You can ask them yourself.'
Amari took a deep breath, trying to slow everything down. 'I guess it's not important.'
They sat in silence, the only sound the trickle of water from the ancient stone fountain. Amari watched it, emptying her mind of anything but the ripples. She stood, and Caspar's eyes darted to her. She sat on the foot-high pool edge, dipping her fingers into the cool water.
A flashback caressed at the edge of her consciousness, this one different from the brutal attack of the others. She closed her eyes and let it in, curious to see what the fountain would bring back.
She was walking with a man around the cloisters. It was cold, and they were bundled up in cloaks, frost on the ground. She felt an overwhelming love for him, a love she could choke on, a visceral thing. But she was nervous: she wasn't sure he returned her feelings, and she felt … guilt.
They meandered into the garden, stopping to look at a winter rose, then a set of carvings. Gut-wrenching tension grew between them. She was shaking by the time they stopped at the fountain, like she might burst into tears at any moment. She dipped her fingers into the water, relishing the cool, crisp bite; anything to ground her.
'Raina,' said the man, pulling her up to face him, holding one of her shaking hands between his. His eyes … they were Caspar's rich brown eyes.
'Caspar,' she said, her voice pleading.
He put a finger on her lips, then lowered himself to one knee.
A sob escaped her, relief breaking the dam holding her emotions.
'Raina, we've been to hell, and we both know it was you who took us there. I was angry, I won't deny it. I hated you. You tore my heart from my chest, threw it to the ground, and pressed your heel upon it. It shattered into countless pieces, never to be whole again.'
Raina sobbed once more, dropping to her knees, her hand caressing his face. He looked down, pressing into her touch. His eyes were cloudy when he looked at her again.
'Those fragments that you left behind, they ached. Every minute of every hour of every day, they ached for you. I'd shut my eyes and see the curves of your countless bodies, recall words you'd uttered just for me, study the memory of your stormy green eyes. I was sick with grief.'
He closed his eyes, pulled himself together, and when he opened them again, there was a newfound resolve.
'Raina Halabi, I will love you until the end of time, across countless lifetimes and countries and conflicts. I want nothing in this world aside from you.'
He pulled a battered band of gold from his cloak and slid it onto her finger.
'Marry me, and let us put this mess in the past.'
Raina's euphoria crashed into Amari, pummeling her chest. 'Yes,' she whispered, through another sob, pulling Caspar's lips to hers. 'I'm sorry,' she breathed. 'I love you.'
Caspar's hands went to her neck, caressing her skin as she relaxed into his deep, languid kisses. She sighed, opening her mouth to him, letting him claim her, pushing for more.
'Amari?'
Amari opened her eyes to find Caspar crouching before her. She was flushed, the sensation of the kiss still pressing on her lips. She flicked her eyes to his mouth, violent lust from the memory coursing through her.
Caspar ran his hand across her hair, his face only inches from hers, and she wanted him to kiss her. More than anything. She wanted to reach up and pull him to her, like Raina had; to hell with the consequences.
She wanted his hands in her hair, his tongue in her mouth, his teeth on her neck. She wanted him to take her upstairs, to feel his weight on her. She wanted him. Her eyes flicked again to his lips, so close.
His hand slid to her neck, hopeful eyes boring deep into her soul. He gasped.
'What?'
'Your eyes,' he said, gently tipping her head back to expose them to more light.
'What about them?'
'They're changing.'
I'm changing, she thought. Can I stop it? Do I have any choice? 'What … what did she do?'
Caspar's brow furrowed. 'Raina?'
Amari nodded. 'That flashback; you proposed to her, right here. You said she'd done something terrible.'
He looked away. 'It's complicated. For you to fully understand … there's so much I'd need to tell you …'
'How did I die?' she demanded.
Caspar looked confused at her change of tack.
'My most recent death. How did it happen?'
Caspar bowed his head. 'I wasn't there,' he said.
He pushed himself back and sat next to her on the edge of the pool.
'You don't know?'
'I heard rumors.'
'Which were?'
'You were being chased, we think by Templars. They'd been hunting you for some time. I don't know why, not for sure. They had you cornered, and you killed yourself rather than be taken.'
'I … killed myself?' A shudder ran through her.
'It wasn't the first time.'
'This is … Jesus, this is …'
She stood, a flash of anger catching hold of her. She bunched her fists against the rage. She didn't have the words for what this was. It was frustrating, and … abnormal. She hated that everyone here had this expectation of her—that she would wake up. To them, every moment she was herself, she was nothing but a disappointment. It wasn't a feeling she was used to.
'I told you it would seem fantastical.'
'That doesn't even begin to describe what this is,' she snapped.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, growling when she saw who it was. 'It's Dean.'
'I'll give you a minute,' he said, walking away.
Amari resisted the temptation to hurl the phone at his head.
Amari took a breath, pulling her furious emotions back under control, then answered the call. 'Dean, hi!' she said, too brightly. 'How was the flight?'
'Hey baby. It was fine; on time at least. How are you feeling? Are you still at the hotel? Leila said she was going to try and get the room for another night.'
'I'm … still feeling kinda strange, I guess.'
'Has the doctor given you anything today?'
'No. I haven't seen the doctor again. I didn't really like him.' It wasn't a lie.
'But you're getting some rest?'
'I'm working through it.'
'I wish I was there.'
Amari's insides churned at the thought. The truth was, she was glad he'd flown away. The idea of him touching her was too much to bear.
Tears filled her eyes. This was so unfair; she'd been happy. She'd loved Dean more than anything, had been so excited for her life with him. She'd wondered whether their children would inherit his height, easy demeanor, delectable smile … but now, the memory of his smile made her shudder. It was a cheap, disposable thing next to the memory of Caspar's lips on hers.
'Amari?' Dean asked, concern lacing his tone. 'You still there?'
'I'm still here,' she said, although she wasn't sure that was true.
'You ran like a baby,' said Jon, laughing as Caspar recounted his conversation with Amari.
Jon wouldn't have been Caspar's first choice as a confidant, but he couldn't find anyone else.
'I gave her privacy so she could speak to her …'
'… husband,' finished Jon, taunting him.
'Fake husband, from a soon-to-be-annulled marriage.'
'Sure about that?'
'Yes. As soon as she wakes up, she won't want to be married to that loser. She's Raina Halabi: queenmaker, power broker, business mastermind, grand strategist. Wars have been won and lost because of her. She won't want some run-of-the-mill human rights lawyer.'
'But will she want you?' said Jon, his tone more serious.
'She will eventually, but I don't know if it'll be in this lifetime.'
He wasn't sure he could stand another lifetime in the doghouse.
'Rose wants to see us in her study,' said Jon, looking at his phone.
They walked down the stone corridor that led to a string of offices on the ground floor. Rose's office was unassuming, although it contained more than one priceless artifact: artwork that experts assumed lost, figurines carved for fun by famous sculptors, a necklace she'd acquired from ancient Egypt.
Dark wooden bookshelves covered most of the walls. The flagstone floor was covered with plush Persian rugs. The dogs lay in front of a big stone fireplace.
Jon and Caspar slumped into beaten up old tartan chairs, sitting opposite where Meredith, Talli, and Rose already sat in similarly worn seating.
'What's up?' asked Caspar, taking in their somber expressions.
'We've received two CCTV clips from the Metropolitan Police,' said Rose. 'There's more to come, but our contact wanted to share what they had as soon as possible.'
'Does it show who attacked us?' asked Caspar.
'Yes and no,' said Meredith. 'We've got a blurry face that our contact's running through facial recognition software. But obviously, that will only tell us so much, if anything at all.'
'Did they look young?' asked Caspar. The older they were the better, assuming they were a demon. If the attacker was young, recently reincarnated, then their face would be new, and less likely to be in the Pagans' own database.
'Quite young. Looks around thirty,' said Meredith, 'although the quality of the footage isn't great, so it's hard to say for sure.'
'Did it show anything else?' asked Caspar.
'They had what looks like a cuff on their right wrist. Again, it's hard to tell for sure, but …'
'… Templar,' said Jon, enthusiastically.
'Or a copycat,' said Meredith, 'or a human. Could be Slayers trying to stir up bad feeling between the nations, hoping we'll declare war and start killing each other.'
'So the footage tells us nothing helpful,' said Jon.
'Oh, to be young and melodramatic,' said Caspar.
Jon threw a cushion at Caspar's head. Caspar caught it, dropped it behind him, and leaned back.
'We can search for the attacker's face now we know it, and cross-reference it against our database of demons,' said Caspar.
'And our contact in the Met can do the same,' said Meredith.
'And we can ask the Registerium to cross-reference the face against their database,' said Rose. 'Although, they're unlikely to be registered, unless whoever's responsible is trying to send a message.'
'And we can be prepared when they attack again,' said Meredith, 'which reminds me … do you all remember the protocols? What to do if you're attacked? Who to call?'
'Of course,' said Jon, as though this were a stupid question.
'I could probably do with some combat training,' said Caspar, shooting Jon a stop trying so hard look. 'I've never trained in this body.'
'Some of us keep ourselves well oiled,' said Jon.
Caspar shook his head, embarrassed for Jon.
'You could give us a demonstration with Meredith later,' said Caspar, a smirk pulling at the edge of his lips.
'Great idea,' said Rose, not giving Jon or Meredith time to protest.
Caspar's face split into a full, beaming grin. 'Wonderful,' he said.
'And afterwards, I can fight you,' Jon said to Caspar.
'Afterwards, everyone can train,' said Meredith. 'Amari should train too.'
Caspar nodded. 'I'll let her know.'
Amari entered the hall to find a crowd already gathered: Rose, Caspar, Jon, Elliot, Meredith, and Gemma. They greeted her when she arrived, and she smiled back, walking over to where Caspar sat with Rose on a low bench.
'Hey,' Caspar said. 'Good nap?'
Amari had told him she was tired after her call with Dean, but really, she'd just wanted to be alone. She'd sat in her bedroom, crying her eyes out, trying not to make too much noise. The last thing she needed was for everyone here to think she was tragic.
'Yes, thanks. So,' she said, looking around, 'what's all this about?'
'Combat training,' said Caspar, 'although I guess that sounds, I don't know, military or something. Doesn't suit these times. Anyway, Meredith likes to ensure we've all got some hand-to-hand combat skills, should we be attacked. In light of recent events, she's running a refresher course.'
'And she's got some new moves she wants to teach us,' said Jon, plonking himself down next to Amari. 'Her method's one of a kind; it's a mixture of everything she's ever learned, from all the martial arts across the world.' His eyes tracked Meredith as he talked.
Caspar rolled his eyes and Amari suppressed a smile. 'I've never done any martial arts,' she said.
Caspar snorted. 'Your subconscious has.'
'What's that supposed to mean?'
'That once you wake up, no one's going to want to face you in a fight,' said Jon. 'You're almost as good as Meredith.'
Caspar leaned in and murmured, 'You're better; you just got bored of showing off in recent lifetimes.'
A shiver shot up Amari's spine, adrenaline flowing through her blood. She'd always been competitive. An irrational part of her wanted to put Meredith flat on her back to prove how good she was. This was obviously ridiculous, given she'd be worse than useless in a fight … she'd have to subdue her competitive side until her old memories came back.
Oh God, her old memories? Was she beginning to believe this craziness?
'Pre-Midsummer celebration. Here. Tomorrow night,' came Talli's singsong voice as she entered at the back of the room.
'Bring your wild side,' said Christa, embracing Meredith and Gemma.
'Do I need to be worried?' Amari asked Caspar.
'With those two? Always,' said Rose, before Caspar could respond.
'Amari!' said Talli. 'We're so glad you're here! You're not cross, are you?'
Amari looked between Talli's mischievous features and Christa's guilty expression. 'It's nice to see you too,' she said.
Talli clapped her hands in glee, pulling Amari into an awkward hug. Then she sat on the ground right in front of Amari, her long skirt billowing out around her. She pulled Christa down too, linking their arms.
'This should be fun,' said Talli, as Meredith summoned Jon to the middle of the room.
'He's going to get his ass kicked,' said Christa, loud enough for Jon to hear.
'Hey, a little faith, please,' said Jon, limbering up.
Meredith turned to where everyone now sat in a crowd at the side. 'The session will proceed as follows,' she said, in a tone that nobody was going to argue with. 'Jon and I will fight, which will take all of two minutes.'
'Hey!' said Jon.
Meredith ignored him. 'Then, I'll use Jon to demonstrate some new moves. After that, everyone will pair up and fight, and I'll train Amari. Any questions?'
Silence.
'Great. Ready, Jon?'
But Jon was already launching an attack from behind. Meredith sidestepped him, and he lurched a few paces past where she stood.
Talli clapped loudly. 'Spirited start, Jon, bravo!'
Jon didn't respond; he was already launching his next attack. Meredith spun him over her arm. Jon landed hard on the floor.
The crowd groaned. 'That's got to hurt,' said Elliot.
'At least she puts mats down these days,' said Christa. 'Remember that Christmas? I guess it must have been in the fifteen hundreds.'
>
'No,' said Elliot. 'I wasn't alive in the fifteen hundreds.'
'Oh, well, anyway, she kept throwing us onto the stone floor of this church—can't remember where it was. Said it would toughen us up.'
'Until she broke my back,' said Rose.
'She let us have padding after that,' said Christa.
'Well done, Jon. Up you get,' sang Talli. 'Take a step back. Make her come to you.'
Jon didn't respond, but he waited for Meredith to attack.
Meredith sauntered towards him, one eyebrow raised. 'Ready for me to finish it?' she asked, getting close, her tone seductive.
Jon looked at her, their eyes level, and everything went still. His arm shot out, trying to punch her stomach, but she blocked him, flicked his legs out from under him, and left him in a heap on the floor.
'So, now we've got that out of the way,' said Meredith, 'Jon, if you'd be so kind as to get up and stand in front of me.'
Jon did as he was told, Meredith wrapping her arms around him from behind.
Jon raised a cocky eyebrow at the crowd.
'You know you're about to end up on the floor again, right?' said Elliot.
'Don't even care,' said Jon, just as Meredith demonstrated how to drop an opponent to the ground. He groaned. 'Okay, I care a little.'
Meredith demonstrated two further moves before telling Jon he could sit down.
'Talli, Gemma, you're up,' said Meredith. 'Try to incorporate the new moves as you fight.'
'Go Tals! You've got this!' said Christa, as Talli jumped up and danced to the middle of the matted area. Gemma followed her.
Amari leaned into Caspar. 'Isn't that a bit unfair? Talli versus Miss Warrior Princess?'
Caspar chuckled. 'Just watch.'
Talli and Gemma spun around the floor. Amari was amazed to see that Gemma was hanging back, wary even.
Talli would circle in, land a blow, and circle away again, before Gemma could respond. Talli's movements were fluid, flowing, like a dancer's. She unleashed uncompromising kicks and punches, all while looking like it was a choreographed routine.
Gemma held her own, landing her share of punches, but Talli had the edge. She finished it with a karate kick to Gemma's chest, throwing her backwards onto the mat.
