Dark Cotillion (First in the Brenna Strachan Series)

by Hadena James

  “Your middle name is Nichneven?” Fenrir asked.

  “It is one of them, yes.” I cocked my head to the side and closed my eyes. “I have four middle names. Nichneven is the first in the list. My full name is Brenna Nichneven Eiric Siobhan Athdara Strachan. It seems to be that my parents just started tacking on the names of some of my great ancestors. However, three of the four seem to have evil connotations attached to them. And Siobhan might be a joke since it is Irish and means “health.” I’ve never asked them about it. I have heard some stories about my great, great, great, grandmothers from history, like Nichneven, who used to enjoy riding about after dark, completely nude and threatening anyone who looked upon her with being turned into a toad. I don’t believe there were ever any toads produced by it, but I think she was on some sort of power trip. Athdara used to hold orgies in her dungeons and only allowed Humans to participate when Elders wanted them there. While the festival was going on, she would prick the participants to gain their blood for spells. Everyone knew about it, but they didn’t care because the debauchery seemed like so much fun. Finally, Eiric destroyed most of a Roman Army Battalion that attempted to invade Scotland. Someone from the lowlands came and got her, I understand, kicking and screaming and told her to do something to the Romans to keep them out. She complied by giving them the thrashing of their lives by enchanting their own weapons. After the Romans beat a quick retreat and ditched their betraying weapons, she turned on the clan that came and got her, and gave them a good thrashing using flowers and grass. Some were even swallowed whole by the earth. They burned her at the stake.”

  “I remember Eiric.” Gabriel shivered. “She was a force to be reckoned with. They tried to burn her at the stake. It didn’t actually work. The only Witches they ever managed to burn at the stake were really just Humans, poor folk. She laughed as they lighted the pyre and then when the flames were going really well, she made it explode and killed most of the people gathered to watch her burn. She then returned to the Highlands and lived out the rest of her life doing what she did best.”

  “Athdara was fun at least,” Fenrir shrugged. “Her head wasn’t screwed on the tightest, but there was fun to be had. What the stories about her fail to relate is that while her orgies were going on and she was gathering a collection of bodily fluids, not just blood, she was casting spells to make all sorts of odd things happen. I remember one party where she managed to entrance most of the village and they put on a nude fashion parade for the group. At another party, she managed to convince a group of Elders and Humans that they were really cats. They kept meowing and pawing at things. The effects lasted for days.”

  “I remember the party with the King,” Anubis gave a grimace. “That is where the tale of the Tailor came from. She convinced him that he was adorned in splendid, royal fashion, and he paraded up and down the streets for days in the buff. He wasn’t real happy when he came out of it. Tried to have her killed three or four times for it. Always failed and then one night, he got stark naked and started begging her to erase the memories of the people who had seen him. She agreed, but only if he agreed to let her draw a salary.”

  “Good, God, what year was that?” Gabriel asked.

  “Oh,” Anubis frowned, “I don’t remember. The Highland kings were really just heads of families with lots of money and he was a McKenzie. I imagine it was before 1000 CE. It was a dandy of a party though. Lots of booze, food, sex, and magic.”

  “Athdara knew how to throw a good party.” Ba’al finally grinned. “Do you remember the time she tempted every young boy and girl over the age of twenty to her party. All the girls ended up getting pregnant.”

  “Yes, and she had a ‘birthing’ party when they all gave birth on exactly the same day at exactly the same time. That was a weird event,” Anubis answered.

  “And Nichneven, well, she was just nutty as a fruitcake. Lovely woman that didn’t like clothing, Humans, Witches, or Elders, so she treated us all with disdain and sarcasm, which I suppose was part of her charm. Not only did she do nightly nude rides, but she liked to curse objects along the path with simple curses. The next day, some poor soul would pick up the object and for a week he’d have a tail or pointy ears, or only be able to eat food that was green in color.” Gabriel smiled. “But she had charm to her. I had her do a great many spells for me. I always enjoyed her blunt, almost rude, company. She was a breath of fresh air in a stale time.”

  “Sometimes, I miss the middle ages,” Ba’al said, a touch of nostalgia in his voice. “Life was interesting back then.”

  “Witches were more interesting. They did strange, quirky things all the time. Nowadays, a Witch wouldn’t think to curse rocks, sticks, and blades of grass so that they did odd things to whoever touched them first.” Fenrir nodded.

  “I must admit, I’ve never cast a curse to make an object do something like that.”

  “See, the art of small magic seems to have been lost over time. In the old days, you could pick up a seemingly harmless stone and suddenly have silver hair that was impossible to brush for two or three days. Or you’d find a coin, pick it up, and it would cause your tongue to flop out of your mouth every time a member of the opposite sex walked past you,” Fenrir told me. “Those were interesting times. I remember touching a doorknob once and turning neon pink. I was like that for a week.”

  “So, my ancestors were petty, sadistic, and power drunk,” I commented.

  “No, your ancestors were having fun. If you lived in a village that housed a Great Witch, you just sort of accepted it. Besides, it was the Middle Ages for most of this time and well, a few harmless practical jokes made life more interesting. If it really bothered you, the Witch would remove it early, if it didn’t, it’d run its course in two or three days. It was more than just an art-form and a use of magic. It was like a magician today. They entertained and kept the villagers happy, letting them forget about their hard lives for a while.”

  “I thought they burned Witches.” I told him.

  “Rarely. The Witch Hunt was pretty acceptable, but they didn’t really find Witches. They found people they didn’t like and usually they were hanged.” Anubis came back into the conversation.

  “Now, flash forward to the modern era.” I took a drink of something that someone handed me. “Would you like me to start doing that?”

  “You’re mortal and not paying attention to what you eat or drink?” Anubis scolded.

  “House full of Overlords, surely I’m safe in that department.”

  “Not necessarily,” Anubis took a drink from his glass. “We can’t smell all poisons.”

  “Does that mean I have to go on a diet?”

  “No, oh, God no. I remember that debacle. I would rather face Dragons than you on a diet,” Gabriel said emphatically.

  “This waiting sucks,” I said to no one.

  “Yes, it does,” Anubis responded as he took another drink. “Much better to be under attack than waiting to be under attack.”

  “Is there anything we can do offensively?” I looked around.

  “Not really. Maybe install a couple of traps, but that would be it,” Gabriel responded.

  “I’m not good at playing the waiting game.” I reminded everyone.

  “Well, what would you have us do?” Anubis asked.

  “Stir the pot, see what floats up?” I suggested.

  “Or we could play a game.” Anubis broke out a deck of cards.

  “You guys are obsessed with games.”

  “Well, eternity is a long time. It is hard to fill all that time with food, sex, and violence. You have to find other hobbies.” Fenrir sat down at the table.

  “Coming from you, that was almost philosophical,” Ba’al grinned and took up a seat across from him.

  “Yeah, that’s about as deep as it gets,” Fenrir shrugged. “If I could find a way to fill my days with nothing but food, sex, and violence, I would. I’ve tried and failed many times. So, I have had to grow as a person with interests.”

&n
bsp; “You have hobbies?” I asked skeptically.

  “I paint,” Fenrir looked at his cards. “I restore old cars. I play rugby, American Football, and soccer. And once a week, I volunteer at the juvenile center mentoring young children.”

  “I participate in Big Brothers,” Ba’al said. “Twice a week, I take my ‘little brother’ to do some new activity. Other than that, I doodle, play several instruments, and compose music.”

  “I read,” Gabriel said as he took a seat ready to be dealt in on the next round. “I also write. Several published novels under a pen name. When I’m not engaging my brain, I tend to go to museums.”

  “I volunteer at the museum,” Anubis responded. “I also volunteer at the zoo. I spend a couple days a week at the zoo helping to ‘socialize’ predatorial offspring that have been abandoned by their parents for whatever reason. I also do some wildlife rehab.”

  “I’ve never thought of you as having hobbies.”

  “We all play cards,” Fenrir added. “And any board game we can get our hands on. Games seem to be coded into our DNA. We are easily distracted by games.”

  “Good way to whittle away some hours.” Gabriel looked at me. “There was a time, long ago that I kept a running game of two person rummy going with an Angel friend of mine. We had filled five books. Our scores were in the millions.”

  “That sounds…” I searched for the right word and failed to find one. “Dedicated, perhaps.” I finally conceded.

  “What are you guys getting ready to play?” I asked looking at the deck Anubis was shuffling.

  “Tarot.” Ba’al frowned as he watched Anubis shuffle. “Only, I’m pretty sure Ani cheats when we play.”

  “How do you cheat at Tarot?” Fenrir asked, also watching the shuffle.

  “I don’t know, but I also know that no one has ever beat him.”

  “Aren’t tarot cards what they use to tell the future?” I raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes, but long before fortune telling, there was the card game. The card game is a lot more interesting,” Anubis answered and began to deal. “Come here, I’ll teach you how to play without cheating and still never lose.”

  The sun was coming up when the game finally ended, or rather, string of games. I had learned the ins and outs of Tarot and found that Ani really couldn’t seem to be beat. Even I had started wondering if he was cheating. The terms were still a little jumbled around in my brain, but I could basically play a game if my life depended on it. Probably couldn’t win, but could play. I yawned, feeling the corners of my mouth stretch as far as they could and something in my back popped as I moved from the chair.

  “Okay, I think it was bed time several hours ago,” I stood and stretched some more.

  “Probably,” Anubis yawned with me as he put away the cards.

  “Why don’t Fen and Ani get some sleep? Beal and I will stay up,” Gabriel volunteered.

  “Good plan,” Fenrir stretched. “Remind me never to play Ani for money in Tarot.”

  They both followed me into my room. I thought about protesting but something told me it was useless and I was too exhausted really to get into it. I shut out the lights and curled up under the blankets. Fenrir and Anubis took positions on either side of me. Since my bed wasn’t exactly a true full-size, it worked. It wasn’t entirely comfortable, I felt a little crowded, but it could have been worse. Besides, before I could complain, sleep closed my eyelids and took me away.

  In my dream, there was a tall, dark man with messy hair, an interesting nose and a long pipe. He smoked too much, obviously didn’t eat enough and kept telling me I needed to open my eyes and look around. If I would just look, I would understand. This proved two things. One: I needed to read less Sherlock Holmes for a while. And Two: I have very boring dreams. Even my ideal man failed to put moves on me in my mind.

  I awoke feeling groggy, irritable, and slightly off. This mortality thing was for the birds. My head had a gentle humming inside. My eyes burned a bit. And a small part of me was considering throwing up.

  The men in my bed had changed. I now had the Gargoyle and the Angel. Both were still sleeping, too tired to realize I had awoken. I crawled from between them gently and went into the living room.

  Anubis and Fenrir both seemed to be bright eyed and bushy tailed. I frowned at them as I sat down. Fen handed me a cup of something. It smelled like cow piss.

  I raised an eyebrow and frowned harder at them. They smiled back, pleasantly sipping coffee and looking like they could conquer the world. Since I was still conquering my gag reflex…

  “Drink it, it will help,” Fenrir told me.

  “What is it?”

  “Hang-over cure, perfected over millennia of Maturing Morning After’s.” Fenrir put his coffee cup down. “You aren’t the first and you won’t be the last to decide to drink more than a few glasses during the Maturing. This will take away the headache, nausea, and urge to kill us.”

  “Huh, you say that like you have experience with it.” I took another whiff and closed my eyes.

  “Don’t smell it, just drink it,” Anubis scolded me. I took another second before opening the hatch and chugging the entire cup.

  If I had thought it was going to taste better than it had smelled, I was horribly wrong. I gagged, swallowed, gagged again, and forced my hands over my mouth. I was pretty sure the purple was draining from my face and being replaced by putrid green.

  “Don’t throw up,” Fenrir patted my back.

  I shook my head at him as Anubis handed me a different glass. This one had soda in it. I took it, sipped a bit, and gargled, trying to get the taste out of my mouth and throat. I buried my face into Anubis’s stomach to try to remove the smell from my nostrils. Anubis always smells a bit like copper, orchids, and something dark, possibly evil.

  “Well?” Fenrir asked after several minutes of me doing deep breathing of Anubis’s smell.

  I had to admit. My head was no longer humming and I no longer felt nauseated. I shrugged and opened my eyes. The burning was gone.

  “I don’t know what that is, but you could make a fortune selling it.” I stretched.

  “No, no we couldn’t.” Anubis pulled away and looked at me. “Humans would have a serious problem drinking it.”

  “Why?”

  “Let’s just go with, you never want to have to make it.” Anubis gave me a look that should have meant something and didn’t. I decided not to pry since I had just drank it. Maybe in ten or fifteen thousand years I would ask for the recipe.

  “What’s on the agenda today, Brain?” I asked Anubis.

  “Well, I’d say global domination, but that would be pointless, so I’m thinking food, survival, and more games,” Anubis answered.

  “Games,” I nodded. “I think I need to lay off the Holmes for a couple of days. I dreamed about him. It was weird.”

  “You dreamed about Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?” Anubis answered, looking genuinely puzzled.

  “No, Sherlock Holmes.” I said defensively. “I dreamed about Holmes and it wasn’t even a good dream, he just kept telling me to look around. I felt like a very dim-witted Dr. Watson, if Dr. Watson were having a very bad day and drugged into oblivion. I think Mycroft was in it as well, which is odd, since I consider Mycroft to be annoying.”

  “Better Holmes than souls,” Fenrir told me.

  “Well, you have me there. Is it normal to be this tired? I feel like I could sleep for ages.”

  “Yes,” they said in unison.

  “Eating helps for a time, but considering what is happening to you, it’s a lot like super healing,” Anubis responded. “If I remember correctly, it’s like having sleeping sickness.”

  “I’ve never had sleeping sickness.”

  “It makes you very tired,” Anubis told me, “and pale and wan and cranky.”

  “Pale, wan, and cranky?” I frowned. “Are you implying that I’m all three?”

  “Yes,” they said in unison again.

  The two of them had their back to th
e large picture window that had been replaced in the living room. The sun was setting at an extremely rapid rate. I looked past them. The glass was darkening over. There didn’t seem to be a sunset.

  “Uh, that’s,” I pointed out the window, “not natural.”

  Anubis checked his watch, “No, it’s August and it’s only 5 pm. The sun shouldn’t be setting.”

  Fenrir started to walk towards the glass. He turned and gave a look to Anubis. Anubis responded by sprinting down the hall. My guess, he was headed to get the others.

  “What is it?” I went towards Fenrir.

  “It isn’t a storm,” Fenrir responded.

  “Okay, so…” I put my hand on his arm.

  “Cerebus. I was wrong. We aren’t going to have a week. It’s going to begin.”

  “Cerebus makes it dark?”

  “Cerebus is a hell-hound.” Fenrir began to back away from the glass.

  “That means nothing to me, Fen.” I stepped back with him.

  “Hell-hound brings night with him where ever he goes. He can’t handle sunlight. Might be one of the most magical creatures on the planet.”

  Gabriel, Anubis, and Ba’al, all entered the room as Fenrir finished saying planet. The three of them didn’t exactly look panicked, but it was close. I felt my heartbeat increase.

  “Cerebus,” Gabriel hissed the word. There are times when I focus on little details. This was one of them. I occasionally thought Gabriel might have a forked tongue. When he hissed a word, he really did hiss it. Odd to think of an Angel as having a forked tongue.

  Cell phones began to ring throughout the room. Even the land line began ringing. I frowned as I dug mine out. The name read “Belphegor.” I sighed.

  “Brenna,” I answered.

  “Bren,” my uncle’s voice was very tense.

  “Yes, it’s dark here.” I answered the question before he asked it.

  “What do you need?”

  “No clue, Uncle Begor, I don’t know what is out there besides Cerebus.”