Kalona
He could feel Neferet getting near and he steeled himself, schooling his expression and cloaking the hatred he had begun to feel for her with a careful demeanor of expectation and accommodation. Kalona would bide his time. If there was one thing the immortal understood, it was the power of patience.
"Neferet approaches," he told Rephaim. His son was standing before one of the several large sets of glass doors that opened onto the huge balcony that was the predominate feature of the penthouse loft the Tsi Sgili had purchased. Penthouse meant all the opulence Neferet craved and the privacy and rooftop access he required.
"Has she Imprinted with you?"
Rephaim's question brought Kalona's thoughts up short. "Imprinted? Neferet and I? What an odd question for you to ask me."
Rephaim turned from the downtown Tulsa panorama to look at his father. "You can sense her approach. I assume she's tasted of your blood and you've Imprinted."
"No one tastes of an immortal's blood."
The elevator doors chimed just before they opened and Kalona turned in time to see Neferet stride across the gleaming marble floor. She moved gracefully, with a sweeping glide those who were less informed would believe vampyric. Kalona knew differently. He understood her movement had changed, shifted, evolved--just as she had changed, shifted, and finally evolved into a being much more than vampyre.
"My Queen," he said, bowing respectfully to her. Neferet's smile was dangerously beautiful. Serpentine, she wrapped one arm around his shoulder and exerted more pressure than was necessary. Obediently, Kalona bent so that she could press her lips to his. He let his mind go blank.
His body alone responded, deepening the kiss, letting her tongue slither into his mouth. As abruptly as she had begun it, Neferet ended the embrace. Glancing over his shoulder she said,
"Rephaim, I thought you were dead." "Wounded, not dead. I healed and awaited my father's return," Rephaim said.
Kalona thought that though his son's words were proper and respectful, there was something about his tone that was off, though it had always been difficult to read Rephaim as the visage of a beast tended to mask any human emotion he had. If, indeed, he had any emotion that could be classified as human.
"I learned that you have allowed yourself to be spotted by fledglings from Tulsa's House of Night."
"Darkness called. I responded. That there were fledglings there was inconsequential to me," Rephaim said.
"Not just fledglings--Stevie Rae was there, too. She saw you."
"As I said before, those beings are inconsequential to me."
"Still, it was a mistake for you to allow anyone to know you're here, and I do not tolerate mistakes," Neferet said.
Kalona saw her eyes begin to take on a reddish hue. Anger stirred within him. That he was in bondage to Neferet was bad enough--that his favorite son could be chastised and harangued by her was intolerable.
"Actually, my Queen, it could work in our favor that they are aware Rephaim remained in Tulsa. I am supposed to be banished from your side, so I cannot be seen here. If the local House of Night rabble hears rumors of a winged being, they will assume a Raven Mocker stalks the night and there will be no thought of me."
Neferet raised an arched amber brow. "A point well taken, my winged love, especially as the two of you work to bring the rogue red fledglings back to me."
"As you say, my Queen," Kalona said smoothly. "I want Zoey to return to Tulsa." Neferet abruptly changed the subject. "Those fools at the House of Night tell me she refuses to leave Skye. She is not within my reach there--and I very much want her within my reach."
"The death of the innocent should cause her to return," Rephaim said.
Neferet's green eyes narrowed. "And how do you know about this death?"
"We felt it," Kalona said. "Darkness reveled in it."
Neferet's smile was feral. "How lovely that you felt it. That ridiculous boy's death was pleasing. Though I am worried that it might have the opposite effect on Zoey. Instead of making her come rushing back to her weak, whining group of friends, it could fuel her decision to stay hidden away on that island."
"Perhaps you should harm one closer to Zoey. The Red One is like a sister to her," Kalona said.
"True, and that wretched Aphrodite has become close to her as well," Neferet said, tapping her chin, considering.
An odd noise coming from his son drew Kalona's attention to Rephaim. "Did you have something to add, my son?"
"Zoey is hiding on Skye. She believes you cannot reach her there, is that not true?" Rephaim asked.
"We cannot," Neferet said, irritation making her voice hard and cold. "No one can breach the boundaries of Sgiach's kingdom."
"You mean like no one was supposed to be able to breach the boundaries of Nyx's Realm?" Rephaim said.
Neferet skewered him with her emerald eyes. "Do you dare to be impertinent?"
"Make your point, Rephaim," Kalona said. "Father, you already breached a seemingly impossible boundary by entering Nyx's Otherworld, even after the Goddess herself banished you. Use your connection to Zoey. Reach her through her dreams. Let her understand she cannot hide from you. That, the death of her friend, and Neferet's return to her House of Night should be enough to coax the young High Priestess out of seclusion."
"She is not a High Priestess. She is a fledgling!
And the Tulsa House of Night is mine, not hers!" Neferet practically shrieked. "No. I have had enough of your father's connection to her. It didn't bring about her death, so I want it severed. If Zoey is to be lured from Sgiach, I will do it by using Stevie Rae or Aphrodite--or perhaps both of them. They need a lesson in showing me the proper respect."
"As you wish, my Queen," Kalona said, sending his son a pointed look. Rephaim met his gaze, hesitated, and then he, too, bowed his head and said softly, "As you wish..."
"Good, then that is that. Rephaim, local news reports say that there has been gang violence near Will Rogers High School. The gang is cutting throats and draining blood. I believe if we follow that gang we'll find the rogue red fledglings. Do that. Discreetly."
Rephaim didn't speak, but he bowed his head in acknowledgment.
"And now I'm going to luxuriate in that lovely marble bathtub in the other room. Kalona, my love, I will join you in our bed very soon."
"My Queen, did you not wish me to search for the red fledglings with Rephaim?"
"Not tonight. Tonight I need a more personal service from you. We have too long been apart." She ran one red nail down Kalona's chest and he had to force himself not to flinch away from her.
She must have seen something of his desire to avoid her touch, though, because her next words were cold and hard. "Do I displease you?" "Of course not. How could you possibly displease me? I will be ready and willing for you, as always."
"And you will be in my bed, awaiting my pleasure," she said. With a cruel smile she spun around and glided into the huge bedchamber that took up half of the palatial penthouse, closing the double doors to the bathroom with a dramatic slam that Kalona thought sounded much like a gaoler closing a prison door.
He and Rephaim remained still and silent for almost one full minute. When the immortal finally spoke his voice was rough with repressed anger.
"There is no price too great to pay to break the hold she has over me." Kalona swiped his hand down his chest as if he could wipe away her touch.
"She treats you as if you are her servant."
"Not for all of eternity, she will not," Kalona said grimly.
"For now she does, though. She even commands you to stay away from Zoey, and you've been bound to the Cherokee maiden that shares her soul for centuries!" The disgust in his son's voice was mirrored by Kalona's own thoughts.
"No," he said quietly, speaking more to himself than his son. "The Tsi Sgili may believe she commands my every move, but though she thinks herself a goddess, she is not omniscient. She cannot know everything. She will not see everything." Kalona's massive wings moved restlessly, mirroring his agitation. "I believe you were correct, my son. It may prod Zoey to leave the ancient Isle of Skye if she understands that even there she cannot escape her connection with me."
"It seems logical," Rephaim said. "The girl hides there to avoid you. Show her your powers are too great for that, whether the Tsi Sgili approves or not."
"I do not require that creature's approval."
"Exactly," Rephaim said. "My son, take to the night's sky and track the rogue fledglings. That will pacify Neferet. What I truly wish you to do is to find and watch Stevie Rae. Observe her carefully. Note where she goes and what she does, but do not capture her yet. I believe her powers are linked to Darkness. I believe she can be of use to us, but first her continuing friendship with Zoey and the House of Night has to be corroded. She must have a weakness. If we watch her long enough we will discover it." Kalona paused, then he chuckled, though the sound was utterly humorless. "Weaknesses can be so beguiling."
"Beguiling, Father?"
Kalona looked at his son, wondering at his odd expression. "Beguiling, indeed. Perhaps you have been so long apart from the world that you do not remember the power of a single human weakness."
"I ... I am not human, Father. Their weaknesses are difficult for me to understand."
"Of course ... of course, just find and observe the Red One. I will consider what to do with her from there," Kalona said dismissively. "And while I await Neferet's next command"--he spoke the word as a sneer, like the very voicing of it was distasteful--"I will search the realm of dreams and give Zoey--as well as Neferet--a lesson in hide-and-seek."
"Yes, Father," Rephaim said.
Kalona watched him open the double doors and step out onto the stone roof. Rephaim strode across the balcony to the balustrade-like wall that ringed the edge, leaped up on its flat ledge, and then opened his huge ebony wings and dropped silently, gracefully, into the night, gliding black and almost invisible against the Tulsa skyline.
Kalona envied Rephaim for a moment, wishing he, too, could leap from the rooftop of the majestic building called Mayo and glide the black, predator's sky, hunting, searching, finding. But no. This night there was another hunting job he would complete. It would not take him to the sky, but it would also, in its own way, be satisfying. Terror could be satisfying.
For an instant he remembered the last time he'd seen Zoey. It was the same moment his spirit had been torn from the Otherworld and returned to his body. The terror then had been his, caused by his failure to keep Zoey's soul in the Otherworld, thereby killing her. Darkness, under the direction of Neferet's oath, sealed by her blood and his acceptance, had been able to control him--to seize his soul.
Kalona shuddered. He'd long trafficked with Darkness, but he had never given it dominion over his immortal soul. The experience had not been pleasant. It hadn't been the pain that had been so unbearable, though it had, indeed, been great. It hadn't been the helplessness he'd known as the tendrils of the Beast had encased him. His terror had been caused by Nyx's rejection.
"Will you ever forgive me?" he'd asked her.
The Goddess's response had cut him more deeply than had Stark's Guardian claymore: "If you are ever worthy of forgiving you may ask it of me. Not until then." But the most terrible blow had been delivered with her next words. "You will pay my daughter the debt you owe her, and then you will return to the world and the consequences awaiting you there, knowing this, my fallen Warrior, your spirit, as well as your body, is forbidden entrance to my realm."
Then she had abandoned him to the clutches of Darkness, banishing him again without a second glance. It was worse than the first time. When he'd fallen it had been his choice, and Nyx had not been cold and uncaring. It had been different the second time. The terror the finality of that banishment caused would haunt him for an eternity, just as would that last, bittersweet glimpse he'd had of his Goddess.
"No. I will not think of it. This has long been my path. Nyx has not been my Goddess for centuries, nor would I want to return to my life as her Warrior, forever second to Erebus in her eyes." Kalona spoke to the night sky, staring after his son, and then he closed the door on the cold January night and with it, once again, closed his heart to Nyx.
With renewed purpose the immortal strode through the penthouse, past the stained glass windows, gleaming wood bar, the dangling light fixtures, and the velvet furnishings, and into the lush bedchamber. He glanced at the closed double doors to the bathing room, through which he could hear water running, filling the huge tub in which Neferet so loved to luxuriate. He could smell the scent she always added to the steaming water, oil that was a mixture of night-blooming jasmine and clove made especially for her at the Paris House of Night. The scent seemed to slither under the door and fill the air around him like a smothering blanket.
Disgusted, Kalona turned and retraced his steps through the penthouse. With no hesitation he went to the closest set of glass doors that led to the rooftop, opened them, and gulped in the clean, cold night air. She would have to come to him, seek him out, find him here, under the open sky, when she deigned to stoop so low as to actually look for him. She would punish him for not being in her bed, awaiting her pleasure as if he were her whore. Kalona growled.
It was not so long ago that, drawn by his power, she had been enthralled with him. He wondered briefly if he would decide to enslave her to him when he broke her hold over his soul. The thought gave him some pleasure. Later. He would consider it later. Now time was short and he had much to accomplish before he had to, once again, placate Neferet.
Kalona walked to the thick stone railing that was ornate as well as strong. He spread his huge, dark wings, but instead of leaping from the rooftop and tasting the night air, the immortal lay on the stone floor, closing his wings over him, cocoon-like.
He ignored the coldness of the stone beneath him and felt only the strength of the limitless sky above and the ancient magicks that floated free and alluring within the night.
Kalona closed his eyes and slowly ... slowly ... breathed in and then out. As the breath left him Kalona also released all thoughts of Neferet. When he drew in his next breath he pulled, within his lungs his body and his spirit, the invisible power that filled the night over which his immortal blood gave him authority. And then he drew to him thoughts of Zoey.
Her eyes--the color of onyx. Her lush mouth. The strong stamp of her Cherokee foremothers that informed her features and so reminded him of that other maiden whose soul she shared and whose body had once captured and comforted him. "Find Zoey Redbird." The fact that Kalona pitched his voice low made it no less commanding as he conjured from his blood and the night a power so ancient it made the world seem young. "Take my spirit to her. Follow our connection. If she is in the Realm of Dreams, she cannot hide from me. Our spirits know each other too well. Now go!"
This leave-taking of his spirit was nothing like what had befallen him when Darkness, bidden by Neferet, had stolen his soul. This was a gentle lifting --a pleasurable sensation of flight that was familiar and enjoyable. It wasn't sticky tentacles of Darkness he followed, but instead the swirling energy that hid in the folds between the currents of the sky.
Kalona's released spirit moved swiftly and with purpose to the east at a speed not comprehensible by the mortal mind.
He hesitated briefly when he reached the Isle of Skye, surprised that the protective spell Sgiach had laid on the island so long ago could give even him pause. She was, indeed, a powerful vampyre. He thought what a pity it was that she had not answered his call instead of Neferet.
Then he wasted no more time on idle thoughts and his spirit swatted away Sgiach's barrier and let himself float down, slowly but resolutely, toward the vampyre queen's castle. His spirit was given pause once more as it passed the grove that grew lush and deep and close to the castle of the Great Taker of Heads and her Guardians.
The Goddess's fingerprint was all over it. It made his soul quiver with a pain that transcended the physical realm. The grove didn't stop him. It didn't forbid him from passing. It simply caused him an agonizing moment of remembrance.
So like Nyx's grove that I will never again see ...
Kalona turned from the verdant proof of Nyx's blessing on someone else and allowed his spirit to be drawn to Sgiach's castle. He would find Zoey there. If she was sleeping, he would follow their connection and enter the mystical Realm of Dreams.
As he passed over its grounds he glanced with approval at the human heads and the obvious battleready state of the ancient place. Sinking down through the thick gray stone that was speckled with the sparkling marble of the isle, Kalona considered how much he'd rather be living there instead of the gilded cage of the Mayo's penthouse in Tulsa.
He needed to complete this task and force Zoey back to the House of Night. Like moves in an intricate game of chess, this was just one more queen that had to be captured so that he could be free.
His spirit sank lower and lower. Using his soul sight, the power through which his immortal blood made visible to him the layers of reality that lifted and shifted, roiled and surged all around the mortal world, he focused on the Realm of Dreams, that fantastical sliver of reality that wasn't completely corporeal, nor was it only spirit, and pulled taut the thread of connection he'd been following, knowing that when the cacophony of colors shifting realities caused cleared, he would be joined to Zoey there.
Kalona was relaxed and confident and therefore utterly unprepared for what happened next. He felt an unfamiliar tug, as if his spirit had become grains of sand being forced through the narrow funnel of an hourglass.
Sight first, his senses began to stabilize. What he saw shocked him so badly he almost lost the thread of the spirit journey altogether and was jolted back to his body. Zoey smiled up at him with an expression filled with warmth and trust.
By the shades of reality surrounding him, Kalona knew immediately he hadn't entered the Realm of Dreams. He stared down at Zoey, hardly daring to breathe.
And the sense of touch returned to him. She was wrapped in his arms, her naked body, pliant and warm, pressed against him. She touched his face, letting her fingers linger over his lips. His hips automatically lifted to her and she made a small sound of pleasure as her eyes fluttered closed and she raised her lips to his.
Just before she kissed him and he settled deeply within her body, Kalona's sense of hearing returned.
"I love you, too, Stark," she said, and began to make love to him. The pleasure was so unexpected--the shock so intense--that the connection was severed. Breath ragged, Kalona pulled himself to his feet and leaned against the rooftop balustrade. Blood pumped hot and fast through his body. He shook his head in disbelief.
"Stark." Kalona spoke the name to the night, reasoning aloud. "The connection I followed wasn't to Zoey at all. The connection was to Stark." He understood, and then felt a fool for not anticipating what had happened. "In the Otherworld I breathed the spirit of my immortal soul within him. Some of that spirit has, obviously, remained." The smile that broke over the immortal's face was as fierce as his raging blood. "And now I have access to Zoey Redbird's Guardian and Oath Sworn Warrior."
Kalona spread his wings, threw back his head, and let his triumphant laughter ring into the night.
"What is so amusing and why are you not awaiting me in my bed?"
Kalona turned to see Neferet standing naked in the doorway to the suite, a look of irritation on her haughty face. But that look quickly changed as she gazed at his fully aroused body.
"I am not amused, I am joyous. And I am here because I wish to take you on the roof with the open sky stretching above us." He strode to Neferet, lifted her, carried her back to the balcony railing, closed his eyes, and imagined dark hair and eyes as he made her cry out in pleasure over and over again.
Stark
The first time it happened so quickly Stark couldn't be sure, totally, absolutely sure, it had happened at all.
But he should have listened to his instincts. His gut told him something had gone wrong, very wrong, even if it was only for a few minutes.
He'd been in bed with Zoey. They'd talked and laughed and basically just been having a good time being alone. The castle was awesome. Sgiach and Seoras and the rest of the Warriors were great, but Stark was really a loner. Here on Skye, no matter how cool it was, someone was always around. Just because the place was withdrawn from the "real" world didn't make it any less busy. There was shit going on constantly--training and castle maintenance, trading with the locals and such. And that's not even taking into account that he'd been that's not even taking into account that he'd been teamed with Seoras, which meant he was more or less the old dude's slave/errand boy/fodder for comedy.
Then there were the garrons. He'd never really been a horse guy, but the highland garrons were amazing animals, even if they did seem to produce an amount of horse crap that was totally out of proportion with their size. Stark should know. He'd spent most of that evening shoveling it, and when he'd made a couple offhanded comments that, sure, might have sounded like complaining, Seoras and some other old Warrior with an Irish accent, bald head, and a ginger-colored beard had started calling him Ach, poor wee Mary with the sweet, smooth hands of a lassie.
Needless to say he was seriously glad to be alone with Z. She smelled so damn good and felt so damn good that he had to keep reminding himself it wasn't a dream. They weren't still in the Otherworld. This was real and Zoey was his.
It had happened between deep, hot make-out kisses that made him feel like he was going to explode. He'd just told her he loved her, and Z had been smiling up at him. All of a sudden something inside him had changed. He'd felt heavier yet weirdly stronger. And there was a strange sense of shock that jolted all along his nerve endings. She'd kissed him then and, as usual when Z kissed him, it'd been more than kinda hard for him to think, but he'd known something was off.
He'd felt shocked.
And that was bizarre as hell because he and Z had been kissing and more-- lots more--for a while.
It was like somewhere inside him, but apart from him, there was a guy who was totally blown away by what was going on between him and Z. Then he'd started making love to Z and there was a sizzling sense of utter astonishment. It had felt strange, but everything was intensified when he touched Zoey. And it had gone away almost as quickly as it had started, leaving Z in his arms, melting into him so that the only thing filling his heart, mind, body, and soul was her ... only her.
Afterward Stark tried to remember what it had been that had seemed so weird--what bothered him so much. But by that time the sun was rising, he was drifting into a happily exhausted sleep, and it just didn't seem so important anymore.
After all, why should he worry? Zoey was tucked away safely in his arms.