CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Kalona

“The clouds clear from the sky. I believe it is a good omen,” Kalona said. He spoke to the High Priestess of Death, who was standing before the busload of fledglings and vampyres who still had not left for their depot home.

“Yeah, okay, we hear ya. We really gotta get our butts back to the depot,” Stevie Rae said. “But we all wish you good luck. I just know if Neferet has Grandma Redbird, you’re the right guy to get her back!” She smiled that innocent, joyful smile of hers at him, and his son waved in happy agreement, then the bus’s doors closed and Darius drove away.

Zoey said nothing before they left. Nothing at all. She’d just sat on the bus while everyone else talked and collected their schoolbooks and finished loading the bus. But he could feel her eyes watching him. He felt her mistrust through them. He also felt her hope. I am her only chance at getting her grandmother back alive, Kalona thought as the school bus disappeared down Utica Street. She could have at least wished me luck.

“Nyx, I ask that you watch over my Warrior, Kalona.”

Hearing the Goddess’s name startled Kalona and he refocused on Thanatos. The High Priestess was standing before him, arms raised, face lifted to the pre‑dawn sky.

“He has chosen to bind himself to your path through me, your loyal High Priestess. He is my sword–my shield–my protector. And as I have been given dominion of this House of Night, Kalona has become its protector as well.”

Thanatos’s voice was rich with power and as it brushed over Kalona’s skin, he trembled. She is invoking Nyx! And the Goddess is responding! He held his breath as she continued.

“Thus, I beseech your aid, benevolent Goddess of Night. I ask that you strengthen him should he be weakened by Darkness and its trappings. Allow his choice to shine and, like moonlight through the grayness of mist, let his purpose part the shadows of that which might cloud his judgment and distract his intent. Do not let him fall prey to Darkness as long as his choice is for Light.”

Kalona fisted his hands so that Thanatos would not see how they had begun to tremble.

Nyx did not appear, but her listening presence was tangible. He could feel the sweet goodness that stirred the air in the wake of the Goddess. It had always been so. Wherever Nyx turned her immortal attention, there followed magick and Light, power and laughter, joy and love. Always love.

Kalona bowed his head. How I have missed her!

“Kalona, go with the blessing of Nyx!”

The swirl of energy that followed Thanatos’s invocation washed against them both. Kalona lifted his head to see that the High Priestess was smiling beatifically at him.

“Nyx heard you,” he said, grateful his voice did not sound as shaken as he felt.

“She did indeed,” Thanatos said. “And that is most certainly a good omen.”

“I will not disappoint either you or the Goddess,” Kalona said, then he sprinted and launched himself into the air, thinking, not this time–I will not disappoint her this time.

Kalona flew straight and true. The balcony of the Mayo was wide and high. He dropped easily to its cold stone surface from the plum‑colored sky. He folded his raven‑colored wings against his naked back. Yes, he’d come to her with his chest bared. She preferred him that way.

“Goddess, your Consort returns!” Kalona called, thankful for who or whatever had shattered the glass of the penthouse’s doorway. It saved him having to awkwardly break it open should she not welcome him as he expected.

“I see no Consort, only a winged failure.” Her voice came from the shadows behind him in the far corner of the balcony, well away from the entrance to her penthouse.

He turned slowly to face her, allowing her time to take in the sight of his naked chest and his powerful wings. Neferet was a lusty creature. She craved men, but even more than the physical pleasure she took from a man’s body, Neferet craved lording dominion over men. The white bull could give her power, but a bull was not a man.

“During the eons of my existence I have, indeed, failed at some things. I have made mistakes. The greatest of both was leaving your side, Goddess,” Kalona spoke truthfully, though the Goddess foremost in his mind was not Neferet.

“So now you call me Goddess and you crawl back to me.”

Kalona took two strides toward her, allowing his wings to stir. “Do I appear to be crawling?”

Neferet tilted her head. She hadn’t moved from the shadows and all he could really see of her were her emerald eyes and the flame‑colored shimmer of her hair as the sun began to rise behind her.

“No,” she said, sounding bored. “You appear to be flapping.”

Kalona unfurled his wings and opened his arms. His amber eyes met her cold, green gaze and he focused his will on her. Neferet had not long been immortal. She would still be susceptible to his allure.

“Look again, Goddess. Gaze on your Consort.”

“I see you. You are not as young as I remembered.”

“You forget to whom you speak!” He tried to temper his voice, but she stirred his anger. He had forgotten how very much he had come to loathe her cold sarcasm.

“Do I?” Neferet glided from the corner of shadows. “It is you who comes to me . Did you actually believe I would welcome you?”

The sun had lifted above the distant horizon, and as she approached him, Kalona was finally able to fully see her. Neferet had continued to change. She was still beautiful, but anything soft, mortal, human about her had been lost. It was as if she were an exquisite statue that had been given the breath of life, but had been animated without a conscience, without a soul. She had always been cold, but until now Neferet had maintained the ability to mimic kindness and love. No longer. Kalona wondered if he was the only one who could see so clearly that she was becoming a conduit for evil.

“I did not believe it, but I did hope it, even though I have heard rumors that my place at your side has been usurped.” He hoped she would misjudge the shock in his voice for jealousy.

Neferet’s smile was reptilian. “Yes, I found something bigger than a bird, though I do admit your jealousy is amusing.”

Swallowing down the bile that rose in this throat at the thought of touching her, Kalona closed the distance between them. He commanded his wings forward so that the cold softness of his feathers stroked her skin.

“I am something bigger than a bird.”

“Why should I take you back?” Neferet’s voice sounded emotionless, but Kalona could feel her skin tremble in anticipation under his caress.

“Because you are a goddess and you deserve an immortal Consort.” He moved even closer to her, knowing she could feel the frigid power of his moon‑blessed immortality.

“I already have an immortal Consort,” Neferet said.

“Not one who can do this.” Kalona enfolded her in his wings. Slowly, he knelt before her, his lips inches from her quivering flesh. “I will serve you.”

“How?” Her voice betrayed no feeling, but her hand lifted to stroke the inside of his wing.

Kalona closed his mind to everything except sensation and moaned.

She continued to stroke him. “How?” Neferet repeated the question and added, “Especially now that you serve another mistress.”

He had expected her to know about his oath to Thanatos and he had an answer ready. “The only mistress I can truly serve is a Goddess, and if my Goddess would forgive me, I would do anything she asks of me.” Kalona had thought his continued play on words would be amusing. Neferet would believe he spoke of her, and actually he could be talking about any of the female deities. But the moment he said the words, the truth of Kalona’s statement rippled through his body, causing him to gasp and lurch away from the creature who stood before him. The games he had been playing with himself for eons ended with that one sentence. I was created to serve one Goddess and one Goddess only. Neferet embodied the opposite of everything Nyx represented. With his back to Neferet, Kalona buried his face in his hands. How could I have ever thought she, or any other woman, could supplant Nyx’s place in my heart? I have spent centuries as a broken shell of myself, attempting to fill what was missing within me through violence and lust and power. Nothing! Nothing has worked!

He felt her hands on his shoulders. They were soft and warm and seemed to radiate kindness. Gently, ever so gently, she turned him, coaxing Kalona to face her. When he lifted his head his body went very still. Neferet had not followed him. She had not moved. She could not have touched him. Neferet had never touched him with such kindness.

But Nyx had.

Kalona’s face felt wet. Absently he brushed away the tears.

“Hmmm…” Neferet was tapping one long, sharp fingernail against her chin, studying him from across the balcony, showing no sign that Nyx had just been present before him.

Had he imagined his Goddess there? No! I remember her touch–her warmth–her kindness. Nyx had been there. Kalona willed himself to believe it.

“Kalona, I cannot say that I am unmoved by your supplication. You seem to finally be learning how to speak to a real goddess. Perhaps I will forgive your betrayal and allow you to love me again. Under one condition.”

“Anything.” Kalona spoke the word to his invisible Goddess, hoping that she was still present, still listening.

“This time you will have to bring me Zoey Redbird. Though I don’t want her killed, at least not yet. I’ve decided tormenting her would be far more amusing.” Neferet walked slowly to Kalona and let her fingernails scrape across his chest, breaking his skin and drawing thin lines of scarlet. Neferet turned her hand so that his blood dripped down her fingers and into her palm. Cupping the blood in her hand, she leaned forward, licking his chest and closing the wounds. Smiling, Neferet continued past him. “I had forgotten how delicious you taste. Follow me and we shall see if the rest of you is still as pleasing.”

Feeling utterly numb, Kalona did not move. In the wake of Nyx’s touch, he had forgotten Sylvia Redbird. He wanted nothing except his Goddess.

I cannot bear Neferet’s touch. I cannot, even in pretense, open myself to a perversion of Nyx ever again.

It was the croaking of a raven that returned his focus. He glanced behind him. The sun had risen fully, silhouetting the bird perched on the edge of the stone balustrade. It watched him with knowing eyes.

Rephaim? Kalona mentally shook himself. I swore not to disappoint Thanatos or Nyx, and I will not disappoint my son, either. Yet I cannot bear the touch of this twisted version of my Goddess.

Kalona couldn’t move. He was confused. His mind was a battlefield; his thoughts enemies of themselves.

“What is wrong with you?” Neferet was standing just inside the shattered glass door to her penthouse. Her eyes were narrowed with suspicion. She lifted her hand. Her palm was still cupped–still holding his blood.

“Come, a few of you. Feed. I may need you to show Kalona how very much I have changed. I no longer tolerate disobedience.”

Kalona watched the snake‑like tendrils of Darkness slither from a corner of the main room. They engulfed Neferet’s hand, appearing to absorb it as well as his blood. Kalona knew the tendrils must be causing her pain. They pulsed and writhed as they fed, but Neferet stroked them with her other hand, almost lovingly.

Kalona looked away. Neferet disgusted him.

He heard the moan then. At first he believed the sound came from Neferet, but when he glanced back at her, she was still smiling and stroking the threads of Darkness. The moan sounded again. Kalona looked around the room. Neferet had no electric lights on. The floor‑to‑ceiling windows were thick stained glass and, though the penthouse was on the top of the tall building, they let in little light. Neferet had lit a few thick, white pillar candles. Their flickering flames served as the only real illumination in the suite. Kalona peered within, but saw nothing except shadows and Darkness.

Another tendril quivered from an especially dark corner of the main room, causing a break in the inky shadows. Something within the blackness stirred. There was a slight glint of silver momentarily catching and reflecting the candlelight. Kalona blinked, not certain he could trust his vision. The immortal focused on the darkness and it took form. It seemed to be shaped like a cocoon hanging from the ceiling. Kalona shook his head, not understanding. Silver within the darkness flashed again, and Kalona saw something else reflecting light within the cocoon‑like shape. Eyes–a human’s open eyes. Everything came together for Kalona when he met her eyes.

The winged immortal stepped into the room.

Sylvia Redbird shifted and, in a whispery, tremulous voice mumbled, “No more … no more…” as the tendrils reshaped, curling around her, cutting into her skin. Her blood dripped to join the pool that had already formed below her cage. Oddly, the tendrils of hungry Darkness did not feed from the ready feast below them. As Kalona watched, Sylvia shifted her body again, this time pressing outward with her arms. When her forearms, which were ringed with turquoise stones and silver bracelets, came into contact with a tendril, the living strand quivered and pulled back quickly, giving off black smoke and shriveling so that it released and another tendril slithered to take its place.

“Ah, I see you’ve discovered my newest pet.”

Kalona made himself look away from Sylvia Redbird. The tendrils of Darkness were done feeding, but they were still wrapped around Neferet’s hand and arm, grotesquely mimicking Sylvia’s protective bracelets.

“You will, of course, recognize Zoey Redbird’s grandmother. Pity she was ready for me when I came for her. She had time to gather her ancestors’ earth power in a protective spell.” Neferet sighed, clearly irritated. “It has something to do with the turquoise and the silver. It’s proving an impediment to reaching her, though my lovely children of Darkness are doing some damage.”

“If nothing else, the old woman will bleed to death,” Kalona said.

“I’m sure she will. Eventually. Pity that her blood is good for nothing. It’s absolutely undrinkable. No matter. I’ll wait her out.”

“You intend to kill her?”

“I intended to sacrifice her, but as you can see that has turned out to be more difficult than I anticipated. No matter. I am a Goddess. I adapt easily to change. Perhaps I’ll keep her, make her my pet. That would truly torture her granddaughter.” Neferet shrugged. “No matter–kill her or use her. It will all end the same. She is, after all, nothing but a mortal shell.”

“I thought the Aurox creature was your pet.” Kalona forced himself to sound only vaguely interested. “Why would you abandon such a powerful creature for an old woman?”

“I did not abandon Aurox. The bull creature is flawed and has not been as useful as I had hoped he would be. A little like you, my lost love.” She caressed a pulsing tendril. “But you already know that, don’t you? You are Sword Master for the House of Night in Dragon Lankford’s place. Surely you know how your predecessor was killed.”

“Of course. Aurox killed him.” Kalona began to move slowly toward Sylvia’s cage. “And I have only taken Dragon’s place so that I can gain the confidence of Thanatos and the High Council.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“For us, of course. They have shunned you, unanimously. You can no longer cause dissention among them, so I thought to cause it for you. Thanatos is beginning to trust me. The High Council trusts her. I have already begun whispering dissent to Death.”

“Interesting,” Neferet said. “And so considerate of you, especially as the last time we parted we did so as sworn enemies.”

“I was wrong to so hastily leave you. I only realized how wrong when I learned that you had taken another as your Consort. I do not enjoy being made to feel jealousy.” Kalona paced as he spoke to her. He hoped to appear frustrated at her questioning. In truth he made quite certain that his pacing kept bringing him closer and closer to Sylvia Redbird’s cage.

“And I do not enjoy being betrayed. Yet here we are.”

“I am not betraying you.” Kalona said the words honestly. He was not betraying Neferet. He owed her absolutely no allegiance.

“Oh, I believe you are doing much more than betraying me. I believe you have also betrayed your own nature.”

Her words halted his pacing. “You make no sense.”

“How is your son, Rephaim?”

“Rephaim? What has he to do with us?” Kalona felt his first sliver of worry at the mention of his son’s name.

“I saw you. I watched you grieve over his loss. You care for him. ” Neferet spat the words, as if they had a foul taste. She took a step toward him. He backed one step away.

“Rephaim has long been by my side. He has done my bidding for centuries. I missed his presence as I would any dedicated servant.”

“I believe you lie.”

He made himself chuckle. “And by believing so, you prove that immortality does not equate to infallibility.”

“Tell me you have not allowed feelings and sentiment to make you weak. Tell me that you have not chosen, like a pathetic lapdog, to chase after a Goddess who already rejected you.”

“My feelings do not make me weak. You are the one torturing an old woman to torment a child.”

“You dare to speak to me of Zoey Redbird! You, who knows how much pain she has caused me?” Neferet was breathing hard. The tendrils of Darkness that slithered around her writhed in agitated response.

“Pain Zoey caused you?” Kalona shook his head in disbelief. “You leave chaos and pain in your wake. Zoey does not antagonize you–you attack her. I know. You have used me to hurt her.”

“I knew you lied. I have always known you’ve loved her–your sweet, special little A‑ya reborn.”

“I do not love her!” Kalona almost blurted the truth: I have always and will always love Nyx! A moan from behind him changed his words. “But I do not hate her, either. Can you not consider that you might find contentment in fragmenting the High Council and ruling those vampyres who choose a more ancient path from your island castle on Capri? Your red vampyres in particular would worship you and be eager to breathe life into the ancient vampyre ways. I will aid you with that path, be your Consort, do your bidding,” Kalona spoke in a calm, reasonable voice. He also moved another step backward. Farther from Neferet. Closer to Sylvia Redbird.

“You want me to leave Tulsa?”

“Why not? What is here? Ice in winter, heat in summer, and narrow‑minded, religious humans. I believe we both have outgrown Tulsa.”

“You make an excellent point.” The tendrils of Darkness, still swollen from Kalona’s blood, quieted as Neferet seemed to consider his proposition. “You would, of course, have to swear a blood oath to serve me.”

“Of course,” Kalona lied.

“Excellent. Perhaps I did misjudge you. I do have the perfect creatures to aid me in casting such a spell.” She stroked the snake‑like tendrils fondly. “Shall they mix my blood with yours and bind us together forever?”

Kalona tensed his muscles, readying himself to spring the few feet that now separated him from Sylvia Redbird. He would command the strands of Darkness from her, and then fly her to freedom as Neferet was slicing open her skin and conjuring a dark spell that would never be cast. Kalona smiled. “Whatever you wish, Goddess.”

Neferet’s full, red lips were beginning to turn up when the raven croaked its dismay. Neferet’s eyes narrowed and her attention shifted to the bird, still perched on the balustrade, a clear target in the morning sunlight. She pointed one slender finger at the bird and commanded,

“With immortal blood you’ve been fed.

Now make the Rephaim bird dead!”

The tendrils that had been wrapped around her body released and shot like black arrows at the raven.

Kalona did not hesitate. He hurled himself between the raven and death, absorbing the blow meant for his son.

The force of the impact lifted him from the penthouse and flung him out onto the balcony, throwing him against the stone balustrade. As pain exploded in his chest, Kalona shouted at the unmoving bird, “Rephaim, fly!”

He had little time to feel relief as the raven obeyed his command. Neferet advanced, tendrils of Darkness slithering in her wake. Kalona stood. He ignored the terrible pain in his chest. He spread his arms and wings.

“Betrayer! Liar! Thief!” Neferet shrieked at him. She, too, spread her arms wide fingers splayed. She combed the air and gathered the sticky tendrils that multiplied around her.

“You think to battle me using Darkness? Do you not remember you attempted to do so not long ago, and I commanded them away? You are as foolish as you are mad, Neferet,” Kalona said.

Neferet’s answer was in the singsong words of a spell:

“Children, you know my need!

Make this immortal bleed!

Then you may feed and feed and feed!”

She hurled the tendrils of Darkness at him. Kalona brought his hands forward and spoke directly to the snake‑like minions the same words he’d used mere weeks before when Neferet had first dared to challenge him when he was whole, undamaged, and free from the suffocating confines of the earth. “Halt! I’ve long allied with Darkness. Obey my command. This is not your battle. Begone!

Shock hit him at the same time the tendrils sliced into his body. The tendrils did not obey him! Instead they cut his flesh, ripping and tearing and drinking–like toxic leeches. The immortal pulled one of the pulsing creatures from his chest and hurled it to the balcony floor. There it shattered, only to re‑form into dozens more of the razor‑teethed horrors.

Neferet’s laughter was manic. “It seems only one of us is allied with Darkness, and that would not be you, my lost love!”

Kalona whirled, ripping the creatures of Darkness from his body and as he fought his mind became very clear. He realized Neferet was correct. The tendrils did not obey his commands anymore because he had truly chosen another path. Kalona no longer trafficked with Darkness.

Date: 2015-02-03; view: 644