Surfing the Dawn

1

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and
incidents either are the product of the author's
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living
or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of
either the author or the publisher.

Surfing the Dawn
Torquere Press Publishers
PO Box 2545
Round Rock, TX 78680
Copyright 2012 by Kiernan Kelly
Cover illustration by Alessia Brio
Published with permission
ISBN: 978-1-61040-695-6

www.torquerepress.com

All rights reserved, which includes the right to
reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form
whatsoever except as provided by the U.S. Copyright
Law. For information address Torquere Press. Inc., PO
Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680.
First Torquere Press Printing: March 2012
Printed in the USA

Surfing the Dawn

2

Prologue
Malibu, California
Present Day

The sky and sea shimmered like silver twins

conjoined by the thin, black line of the horizon. The
heavens to the east were beginning to lighten almost
imperceptibly, but for now, the ocean remained a wide
stretch of dark obsidian-gray, glinting with ghostly
moonlight. It would only be a matter of minutes before
that would change and the sun chased its pale cousin
across the sky.

Raven paddled out into the icy water, keeping one

eye on the east. His heart pounded with excitement as it
always did during his last ride of the night. He passed
the breakers into the gentle, calming bob of deep water,

and stretched out on his board. It was a custom-painted
job, pitch black with silver bats scattered across a
gibbous moon, a private joke only a select group
understood.

A large swell was building behind him; he lay

perfectly still, belly down on his board, waiting. His ears
filled with the sea's music, a deeply resonating, pulsing
sound, the heartbeat of the deep. Every second passed
like a lifetime, the glow at the horizon growing ever so
slightly brighter as he waited for the swell to reach him.
Another few minutes and sunrise would be upon him. A
perfectly calm exterior belied the adrenaline surging
through his veins as he fought the instinctive urge to
flee. He felt the ocean lift his board, and he rose
gracefully to his feet.

Pastel pinks and lavenders began to streak the eastern

sky as the water carried his board forward. The wave
proved to be nearly perfect; he rode the foaming curl
easily, with faultless balance born of long practice, then
shifted his weight and soared through the tube. The

curving wall of dark water briefly blocked the
brightening sky from his view, sheltering him from the
birth of the day. He darted out again and rode the crest
of the wave all the way to the shore.

Surfing the Dawn

3

The instant he hit the sand, he scooped up his board

and, without breaking stride, ran lightly but swiftly
across the beach toward a weather-grayed, two-story
house at the far edge. The sunrise chased him like a
hound after a fox; he could feel its golden glow
snapping at his heels and the burning kiss of its rays on
the back of his neck and calves. He slipped inside the
house and closed the door just as the full force of the sun
would have reached him. The door was solid oak, and
he'd outfitted all of the house's windows with heavy
shutters to block out even the thinnest light, providing a
cool, dark interior. He fancied he could hear the sun's
angry bellow in the wind buffeting the door, furious at
his narrow escape, and it brought a victor's smile to his
face. He touched his fist to his heart in a silent salute to
his most worthy opponent.

"You are twelve kinds of fucked up, Raven,"

Sundown said, without glancing up from the table where
he and Lucien were playing cards. A small fortune sat in
a messy pile between them. "I never knew a dead guy
with a death wish before."

"You still don't, because I'm not dead, nor do I wish

to be," Raven replied, propping his board against the
wall near the door. He walked around the table,
unzipping his wetsuit and peeling it off his shoulders as
he peeked at Sundown's cards. "Are you kidding me?
You're staying in with a pair of nothing, and you say I
take unnecessary gambles?"

Sundown cursed Raven, Raven's mother, and all of

Raven's female relations in Cajun French, angrily

tossing his cards down on the table, as Lucien laughed
and showed the three kings in his hand. "You're the only
vampire I know who surfs at fucking dawn but claims he
doesn't have a death wish. There's something seriously
wrong with you, chere. Tell me the truth -- your mother
dropped you on your head as an infant, didn't she?"

"If she did, it might explain why I put up with you

two," Raven quipped. "I'm not trying to get myself
killed; I just happen to possess a highly developed sense
of adventure."

Surfing the Dawn

4

"Adventure, my ass! You're going to dust yourself

one day, Raven," Sundown retorted, frowning as Lucien
swept his winnings to his side of the table. "The Fates
don't like to be played with, and if you keep taunting
them like this, someday they're going to turn around and
take a big, juicy bite out of your ass."

Raven shrugged a powerful shoulder, his wide chest

bared, the top of his wetsuit draped low around his
narrow hips. "Let them try." He grinned, showing a
glimpse of sharp incisors. "They'll find I bite back."

"Man, nuttier than a pecan praline, you," Sundown

said in his thick Cajun accent. "Do me a favor, chere.
Stay far away from me. I don't want to get caught in the
crossfire when the Fates decide they've suffered you to
live long enough."

Raven rolled his eyes, although in truth, Sundown's

taunt hit a buried nerve and instantly deflated his good
mood. Suffered is the right word, he thought. Those
bitches wouldn't know mercy if it rolled them over and
butt-fucked them. "The Fates turned their backs on me
seventeen hundred years ago and haven't given me a
single thought since," he said wryly. "I simply return the
favor."

"Yeah, well, someday they're going to realize you're

baiting them. They're going to pop up like the fucking
shark in Jaws and swallow you whole, board and all,"

Sundown said.

Raven cast a baleful glare in his direction. "Just play

your games, fledgling, and let me worry about the Fates.
I've lived longer than both of you combined. I know
how to take care of myself."

"Could've fooled me, doing that fucking Evel

Knievil-in-a-wetsuit thing every night, you," Sundown
muttered, shuffling the deck. He dealt five cards each to
Lucien and himself. Raven smirked at Sundown's new
cards -- evidently, the shrewish Fates weren't inclined to
be kind to him, either. Although Raven wouldn't have
thought it possible, Sundown's new hand was even
worse than his last.

Surfing the Dawn

5

As Raven watched, they both discarded and drew

more cards, and Lucien took Sundown for another thick
wad of cash. In reality, the money meant nothing to
them -- they had more than they would ever need. Raven
learned long ago to make solid investments, all of which
were paid into offshore accounts or through a thick,
protective layer of dummy corporations. They bet on
their cards only to keep things interesting.

Their insistence on gambling usually amused Raven.

He'd spoiled the two of them from the beginning, he
supposed, much like an overly indulgent parent,
shielding them both from the harsher truths of their new
lives.

The biggest truth was, while they didn't need money

to survive, their existence could be miserable without it.
Sundance and Lucien were both relatively new to the

undead lifestyle. Neither had ever wanted for anything
in their afterlife -- Raven had made sure they had all
they needed.

He alone knew from experience how brutal life could

be for the undead. He knew what it was like to struggle
for survival without a coin or a pocket to hold it, trying
to cling to what little humanity remained in your soul.
There'd been many times when he'd been forced to live
in cold, dank caves, rat-infested sewers, or to share
decrepit crypts with the bones of the long dead; when
rags or nothing at all shielded his skin from the icy
breath of winter. Their seaside house, modest in
comparison to its neighbors, was a sumptuous palace
compared to some of the shitholes he'd called home over
the ages, particularly in the beginning, when he was an
unskilled fledgling and fending for himself.

Unprepared, inexperienced, and frightened, he'd

learned through agonizing trial and error, and many of
his mistakes had nearly destroyed him. He still bore the
scars etched deeply into his soul from those early years.

His memories suddenly crowded close, burning as

painfully as the sun. It took all of his considerable self-

control to shove them away again, but his previous good
mood was spoiled. "Get some sleep, the two of you," he

Surfing the Dawn

6

snapped, turning his back on them. "Tomorrow night,
we hunt."

"Ooh, how dramatic. Are you going to give us the

whole 'children of the night, what music they make'
speech now?" Lucian quipped, indifferent to how
dangerously close Raven was to losing his temper.

Raven paused, his voice dipping into a low and

dangerous rumble, lip curling, fully revealing his fangs.
"Don't push me, fledgling. I've killed better friends than
you."

To Raven's irritation, Lucian laughed. "That would

infer you once had friends. Who, besides the two of us,
could abide you for more than a couple of hours?"

No one, Raven conceded silently, although he didn't

deign to answer Lucien. Not anymore. Not since
Valerian.

Sundown and Lucian were lovers, and they'd often

tried to draw Raven into their affair as well, but he'd
always resisted. He'd had a love of his own, once. When
he'd lost it, he thought the pain would never end, and
refused to open himself up to such raw agony again. It
was better -- safer -- to be alone.

He knew alone. He'd spent many unbearable years --

centuries – in that condition, ever since the night he was
turned. Not that he'd ever shared that part of his history
with his fledglings. Even after all the centuries that had
passed, it still pained too much to speak of it.

Rather than engage in yet another verbal volley with

Sundown and Lucien, Raven turned away. He was
walking toward the hallway, intent on showering and
hitting the sheets, hoping his sleep would -- for once --
be undisturbed by dreams, when a small package on the
kitchen counter caught his eye.

The box itself was unremarkable; a square wrapped

in plain, brown butcher paper with his name printed in
large, black block letters, but it radiated a powerful aura.
Raven felt the cool, invisible tendrils reaching for him
like ghostly fingers, and he took an inadvertent step
backward. Neither Lucien nor Sundown seemed to
notice the aura shrouding the innocuous box. Then

Surfing the Dawn

7

again, they were both young by undead standards; other
than Raven and each other, they had yet to meet another
vampire face to face.

Raven, however, would know it anywhere.
"Where did this come from?" he asked, gesturing

toward the box.

"Don't know. It came for you last night while you

were out doing your Big Kahuna thing. There's no return
address on it, and we didn't see who delivered it.
Whoever it was rang the bell and took off before we
could answer the door," Lucien answered.

"Yeah, which is a shame, because I really could've

done with a little aperitif." Sundown smiled a wicked,
toothy grin, as if he'd forgotten Raven would skin him
alive for draining a human without Raven's consent.
Raven knew better. Sundown obeyed the rules; he only

played at being a bad ass. He thought it was quite
comical to act the part of the bloodthirsty fiend without
conscience or code.

They lived, as the kids would say in this century, on

the down low. It was too easy to be caught out in this
new age of technology if they weren't extremely careful
and discriminating about who they chose to feed from.

After nearly an entire century of Sundown’s

playacting, the joke was wearing thin.

Raven ignored Sundown and focused his

considerable power on the box, trying to ascertain its

contents without actually needing to resort to touching
the damnable thing. He could detect no threat, other than
the lingering smell of vampire clinging to the plain
brown wrapping.

He steeled his spine and reached for it. Working

quickly, he tore through the paper to reveal a cardboard
box. He ripped open the flaps and gasped at what lay
inside, nested on a bed of crisp, white tissue paper.

It was a heavy silver ring set with an oval of

carnelian and carved with the likeness of an eagle. He
leaned in, peering at the tiny Roman letters carved into
the band.

MC. Marcus Coracinus.

Surfing the Dawn

8

"What is it?" Lucien's voice came from just over his

shoulder, startling him.

The sight of the ring shocked him, and inundated

Raven with such a torrent of painful memories that he
barely had the presence of mind to answer Lucien's
question. "It's a Roman legionnaire's ring," he said,
when he finally found his voice, then paused,
swallowing hard to cover the unexpected lump in his
throat. "It was my father's. I…lost it nearly seventeen
hundred years ago."

Lucien and Sundown both began barking questions,

but their voices faded to a dull buzz as Raven's
memories screamed to the surface, drowning them out.

He plucked the ring from the box, sliding it onto his

finger. It was a perfect fit and looked almost brand new;
the passing centuries had made barely a scratch on it.

Now, at least, he knew the source of the aura
surrounding the box.

Valerian had found him.
He spun on his heel without another word, ignoring

Lucien and Sundown, and stalked to his bedroom,
slamming the door shut behind him.

Valerian.
The bastard! He was still alive! And Claudia? Did

she live as well?

His knees buckled, and he sat down on the edge of

his mattress, staring at the ring on his finger. As he

gazed at the deep red stone, his mind wandered
seventeen hundred years into the past.

Surfing the Dawn

9

Chapter One
Rome, Italy
298 A.D.

OMNES VIAE ROMAM DVCVNT.
All roads lead to Rome.
Gaius looked up at the words inscribed above the

archway leading from the tricinium to the courtyard in
his father's house, wondering if the saying was still
accurate. It seemed to his ten-year old mind that the
opposite held true; that instead, all roads led away from
Rome.

The roads had taken everyone he knew and loved

away from him. His mother, struck down by fever, had
taken her final journey over those rough stones to her
grave three years ago. His three sisters had each

followed her within a month, like a toppled row of
delicately carved, ivory dominoes. His father left him
just last year, marching away over the same road to the
war at the far borders of the Empire at the Rhinelands.

He glanced at the heavy silver legionnaire ring

hanging from a thin chain around his neck, felt its
comforting weight settle over his heart. Far too large to
fit Gaius' slender fingers, his father had threaded it on a
fine silver chain before slipping it over Gaius' head.

"Keep it safe for me until I return, boy," Marcus

Coracinus said. His expression softened for a heartbeat,

swiftly replaced by the stern look Gaius knew so well.
"Be strong."

Gaius' lower lip trembled and his eyes filled, but he

bravely stiffened his spine and lifted his chin, sniffing
back the threatening tears as he watched his father turn
heel and march away. He remained where he was,
watching until the red horsehair plumes on his father's
helmet disappeared over the ridge, and continued to
stare at the hill until the night swallowed the last rays of
the sun.

A full month passed with no word from his father.

Gaius remained alone, save for the procurator

,

his

father's trusted servant who ran the day-to-day business

Surfing the Dawn

10

of the house, and his father's slaves. Time passed, each
day much the same as the one gone before it. He spent
the daylight hours watching the horizon for a glimpse of
a red plume or the glint of metal armor in the distance,
and the nights dreaming of his father's return. His
lessons from his tutor were heard only with a half ear;
the other always listening for the sound of his father's
voice. He ate, he drank, he slept, and he waited, one
hour melting into the next with barely his notice. One
month passed into two, then three, slowly stretching into
a full year.

It was midway through the month of Augustus, the

ides, when Gaius finally spotted a flash of red on a hill.
He’d been sitting in the courtyard garden, daydreaming
again of the day his father would come marching home,
victorious in the war against the Gauls, when he’d

happened to glance toward the hills surrounding his
father’s estate and saw a bit of bright red in the distance.
Gaius’ heart slammed against his narrow ribcage in
sudden excitement, his hand clutching at the ring
hanging from his neck as he flew out of the courtyard.
His gangly legs pumped hard as he raced up the road
toward the approaching figure.

He crested the hill. His excitement flared then

abruptly died in a single breath.

The soldier was not Gaius' father, but he carried a

message, one that changed Gaius' life forever.

"Marcus Coracinus was a courageous man, a fine

soldier who fought with valor. Be proud of your father;

his death was a brave one." The soldier, gaunt and
scarred, handed Gaius his father's helmet, the plumes
stiff with mud, the iron and brass speckled with dried
blood. The soldier briefly touched his fist to his heart,
and left, the road taking him as it had taken everyone
else, away from Gaius.

Grief and fear engulfed Gaius like a heavy, wet

blanket, suffocating, weighing his small body down. He
had no idea how long he stood in the road, staring at the
distant horizon, or at which point his legs finally gave
out and he slumped to the ground. It was well after

Surfing the Dawn

11

nightfall before the slaves found him, crumpled in a
heap on the same spot he'd received the news of his
father's death in battle, clutching his father's helmet to
his chest.

He was alone in the world, utterly alone, and

suddenly terrified into immobility. What would he do?
Where would he go? How would he survive?

Why did everyone he loved leave him?
He didn't remember the slaves carrying him away or

any of the days that followed. Their whispered
comments made no sense to his ears, when he heard
them at all. He ate when they pushed food at him, drank
when liquid touched his lips, but spent the days in a
hazy, gray state, neither fully awake nor asleep, but
simply existing.

It was a bright day in early September when the local

tax collector, Brutus Maxillius, renowned as much for
his greed as his position, came to claim his father's
house and lands in payment of Rome's steep taxes.
Everything was seized -- the house, the land, the
animals, the slaves, and Gaius himself.

Gaius found the strength to wake fully only when

they tried to take his father's ring from him. He fought
so wildly, biting, kicking, and scratching the men who
tried to confiscate it, that Maxillius was amused and
allowed Gaius to keep it. Gaius' freedom, however, was
his no longer.

"Boy, you have no wealth, no family, no patrons.

You will work in my house as a servant until you pay

your father's debts and your own," Maxillius said to him.
"Thank the gods each day for my generosity; others
would've thrown you to the wolves without a second
thought. Make no mistake; displease me and to the
wolves you will go."

Gaius didn't feel grateful. In fact, he thought himself

cursed. The murky haze of his depression worsened in
his new lowly station, exacerbated by the hard work,
long days, coarse food, and the whippings he endured at
the hands of Maxillius. The line between servant and
slave blurred for Gaius; Maxillius named him a servant,

Surfing the Dawn

12

since Gaius was a freeborn Roman, but he received no
wages. Maxillius insisted Gaius ate nearly more than he
was worth and insisted that what little was left of Gaius’
wages be applied toward the debts Gaius’s father had
incurred. He slept and ate with the slaves, yet was made
to wear the clothing of a servant. His status was
confusing at best.

Worst of all was the loneliness, each day cutting

deeper into his heart until he feared there would be little
enough left to keep beating. He did not understand how
he continued to endure it, how he woke each morn and
fell asleep each night, and yet he did, as one year slowly
faded into the next.

In the summer of his eighteenth year, Gaius stood

tall, broad through the shoulders, narrow at the waist and
hips, and long in the leg. Although not as tall as he

remembered his father to be (in Gaius' memory, his
father stood a giant), he was big for his age and easy on
the eye. His hair was as black as a raven's wing, and his
eyes the color of a cloudless, summer sky. They were a
startling combination against his tawny skin, attracting
the attention of many admirers, particularly when he
served food and wine during one of Maxillius' numerous
dinner parties.

In addition to his striking face and handsome body,

Gauis was also strong, both mentally and physically. His

was a spirit of iron, unbroken by his many years of ill
treatment. The strength of his arm, earned by lifting and
carrying heavy vats and cauldrons in Maxillius' kitchen,
did not go unnoticed by Maxillius' associates.

It was during one such dinner party in the summer of

Gauis eighteenth year that the suggestion was first made
for Maxillius to offer Gaius to the gladiator school.

Maxillius was drunk, as was his usual state at these

affairs. As Gaius attempted to refill his cup, Maxillius
gestured wildly, knocking the mug out of Gaius’ hand
and splashing wine across the table. Maxillius' hard fist
caught Gaius in the stomach for his clumsiness, but so
many years of Maxillius' brutality had toughened Gauis,
and he barely flinched from the blow.

Surfing the Dawn

13

"He's a strong one, Maxillius. Surely you would earn

many a handsome coin in wagers if he fights." This
comment came from a sallow man more bone than flesh,
whose sharp eyes followed Gaius' every movement. "Let
him train in my school, and I promise you, he'll fill your
coffers with gold. I know a good fighter when I see
one."

"You flatter him, Junius. He can barely wield a wine

jug, never mind a sword!" Maxillius laughed at his own
wit, seeming to dismiss the thought.

"His father was a centurion, was he not? I remember

Marcus Coracinus well. He was strong, and a fierce
warrior. The blood of the father will tell in the spirit of
the son," Junius replied.

Gaius listened with half an ear to the conversation as

he went about his duties. For the first time in many

years, he felt the faint stirring of hope in his heart. Even
a slave might earn his freedom in the games by winning
the wooden sword in the arena! According to Maxillius'
own word, Gaius was a freeborn servant, not a slave. If
the school accepted him into training, the law would
force Maxillius to forgive all of Gaius' debts. Gauis
wouldn’t need the wooden sword bestowed upon him by
the emperor -- as a freeborn servant, he would only need
to survive to see the end of his contract with the school.
It was a gamble, certainly, with the odds sorely stacked
against Gaius' survival, but a slim chance was better
than none at all.

Maxillius fell silent, one arched eyebrow telling

Gaius he was giving the idea serious consideration.
Gaius held his breath, waiting for Maxillius' answer.
Although he hadn't prayed in years, not since the day he

learned of his father's death, Gaius prayed now, with all
his heart. Sweet Clementia, he thought fervently, grant
me mercy. Bold Minerva, see your servant sent from
here, and I swear that every time I lift my sword in
battle it will be in your honor.

Maxillius slowly nodded. "All right, Junius. Take

him. He's cost me enough in food and lodging over the
years. Perhaps he will earn me back his keep, perhaps

Surfing the Dawn

14

not -- I am not fully convinced he is bright enough to
train. Either way, I will be saved the cost of feeding and
clothing him."

Gaius heard nothing else over the excited pounding

of blood in his ears. He was to be free -- at least of
Maxillius' ill temper, household, and endless drudgery.
What did he care that he might die in the arena? Death
would be a kind reward compared to the life he now led.
The slim chance that he might survive to outlive his
contract with the school far outweighed the threat of
violent death. If he lived, he would be a free man.

If he died, he would still be free.
The roads took him again that night, leading him

onward to his destiny. In the sands of the arena he would
ride a wave of blood toward his future and freedom.

Had he known then what the Fates, cruel and

heartless bitches three, had in store for him, he might
have begged Maxillius to keep him. A short life of
servitude would have been preferable to the eternity of
sorrow awaiting him.

He did not know it yet, but Gaius Coracinus was

already dead.

The Raven had been born.

Surfing the Dawn

15

Chapter Two

Red splattered the sands, turning them into dark mud

under the gladiators' feet as a pair of

ordinarii

wielded

the gladius, the traditional short sword. Only the
combatants heard the clang of metal biting metal as their
weapons clashed again and again. The Amphitheatrum
Flavium, the huge, circular arena built in the heart of
Rome, was several stories high, providing seats for more
than fifty thousand spectators, and each and every one of
them was filled. The din of the crowd prohibited any
possibility the noise of the matches would have reached
their ears.

Not that it mattered.
The citizens of Rome came to the Amphitheatrum

Flavium to see, not hear. It was the opportunity to watch

the executions of prisoners, the hunts of exotic animals,
the pageantry, and the gladiator battles drawing them to
the arena, not the screams of pain and pleas for mercy.
Their only concern was the carnage. They weren't even
particular about whose blood was shed, as long it was
shed, and by the bucketful.

The citizens were rarely, if ever, disappointed.
Raven stood near the archway leading out to the

sands of the arena, watching the current battle with a
detached air. He had seen so many -- indeed,

participated in more than he could count -- that they no
longer held any excitement for him. He could usually
predict either opponent's move before it happened and
could tell from the outset the probable victor. When he
entered the sands, there were very few who could match
his skill, and none -- so far -- who could best him. His
mind was not on the match, but turned inward, thinking
about the road that had led him to that moment.

For nine long years, he'd called the Ludus Magnus,

the largest of all the gladiator schools, home. His
training began on his very first night, with the painful
tattoo of a raven's wing branded onto his right cheek.
The symbol was of his new name, The Raven, and
marked him to all who saw him as a gladiator. He signed

Surfing the Dawn

16

his contract; there could be no escape from the ludus. He
had assumed the status of a slave, one owned by Junius,
the lanista, until such a time as Gaius fulfilled his
contract or died.

A beating, the first of many to come, quickly

followed the tattoo. Beatings were so numerous, in fact,
that he could barely remember living a day within the
walls of the school during those first years without pain.
He understood it now, of course. The floggings were
part of his training. They served to harden him, to make
him strong.

They also made him cautious.
It was uncommon to see one man kill or even

severely wound another during a match, but it happened.
The cost of training, feeding, and clothing gladiators
was too high to allow them to die too often, not while

there were scores of prisoners available for slaughter on
the sands, but gladiators did die on occasion.

While there was a deep feeling of united brotherhood

among them, the men rarely made lasting personal
friendships within the school's walls. There was a saying
among gladiators: amicus hodie, inimicus cras. Friend
today, the enemy tomorrow.

A man never knew whom he might face during the

next games. His opponent was more likely to be
someone he'd trained with for years than a stranger from

another school or a prisoner from a far distant land. The
skill of the gladiator was rarely wasted on slaves or
prisoners. There would be little entertainment value in
seeing a gladiator slay his opponent within the first few
minutes of the match.

No, usually the gladiator was pitted against another

gladiator, a foe of matching skill and experience.

Raven had seen too many of his gladiator brethren

die on the sands, or later, of wounds sustained during
such fights when pitted against one another. Friendships
-- like lives -- were short and fleeting in the world of the
gladiator. Most men died long before seeing the twenty-
fifth anniversary of their births. At twenty-and-seven

Surfing the Dawn

17

years, Raven was among the oldest gladiators still
fighting in the games.

He'd learned to keep others at an arm's length, to

extend friendship to none and expect none in return. It
was easier that way. Attachments only made for tears
when one fought in the arena.

The only exception Raven made to this rule was for

Valerian, but for him, Raven would gladly fall upon his
own sword. Valerian was the sun to Raven's darkness,
with a spirit as light as the golden wheat color of his
hair. Valerian’s eyes were as capricious as the sea, at
times deep turquoise, while at others, nearly black,
dependent on his mood. He was as tall as Raven -- a
rarity in and of itself -- but carried himself with a grace
born of breeding that Raven could never hope to
achieve. Next to Valerian, Raven felt like one of the

lumbering black bears sometimes brought in to fight in
the arena. Two years older than Raven, Valerian held the
dubious honor of being the eldest fighter at the school.

Valerian was already a two-year veteran of the games

when Raven, then called Gaius, passed under the arch of
the Ludus Magnus. Valerian's body bore the strong
muscles born of long training. His tattoo of the
gladiator's mark was branded on his right hand rather
than his handsome face (a small concession granted
because of his family status as merchants), but his skin
carried the scars of a seasoned fighter.

It was Valerian who'd come into Raven's cell on his

first night bearing salve for Raven's new tattoo, as well
as the bruises Raven garnered during his first hours as a
gladiator, and it was Valerian who'd first showed him

ways to take his mind from his pain.

It was late that night, long after the snores of Raven's

new brethren filled the barracks, when Valerian slipped
into Raven's cell and sat on the edge of the cot. Raven
remembered thinking Valerian looked as golden as
Apollo, his expression soft with sympathy.

"Is this then the life of a gladiator?" Raven asked

through gritted teeth, as Valerian's fingers ghosted over
his flesh, applying the foul-smelling ointment to the

Surfing the Dawn

18

myriad of bruises and welts striping his skin. "How will
branding and beating me teach me to fight?"

"The brand is a safeguard against runaways. Some

try, but few succeed. Anyone who sees you will know at
once that you belong to Junius, and without your
discharge paper, they would force you to return
forthwith. As for the beatings, well, those who train us
know that in battle the mind often cracks before the
body," Valerian said, his voice as gentle as his touch.
"They seek to strengthen your spirit, your resolve, as
well as toughen your hide. In their minds, to feel pain
every day is to feel it less, to gain control over it. The
scars will help dull future pain." His hand smoothed
over Raven's chest, and lower, to his ribcage, which
sported a particularly colorful bruise. "You must find
ways to salve the wounds to your spirit as well as those

to your flesh. Find ways to distract your body and mind
from the pain."

Raven flinched and hissed through his teeth as

Valerian's hands touched an especially sore spot. "How?
What have we to look forward to but bruises upon
bruises?"

Valerian smiled, his voice lowering into a husky

whisper. "There are ways. Would you like me to show
you?"

Raven nodded, although he couldn't fathom what

Valerian could teach him that might take his thoughts

from the pain wracking his body. He was willing to try
anything, though, and watched Valerian curiously. His
gasp was audible when Valerian lifted the hem of
Raven's short tunic, baring his cock -- mercifully one of
the few places on Raven's body not badly battered
during his beating -- but did not protest. Valerian's
fingers, although calloused and strong, were amazingly
gentle as he took Raven's length in hand.

Giving Raven a wink and a smile that were both

saucy and assuring, Valerian leaned over, parted his lush
lips, and took Raven's flaccid cock into his mouth.

Gods! Raven's body hardened instantly, responding

immediately to the sweet, warm wetness surrounding his

Surfing the Dawn

19

organ. Although his sorely tested muscles protested
angrily, the pain barely registered amidst the whirling,
incredibly pleasant sensations assaulting him. His thigh
muscles strained, heels digging into the straw-stuffed
pallet as his hips instinctively tried to push himself
deeper into Valerian's mouth.

Valerian's teeth grazed over Raven's tender foreskin,

sending chills spiraling through his balls, as Valerian's
hand gently worked his swollen sac. His tongue swirled
and flicked; his cheeks hollowed as he sucked, until
finally Raven's control, held back by the thinnest of
hairs, snapped. He grunted behind clenched teeth, his
back arching as he pumped his seed into Valerian's
willing mouth.

Valerian looked up at him, smiling softly. There was

a tiny drop of white at the corner of his mouth, and as

Raven watched, Valerian's pink tongue flicked it away.
"Tell me, Valerian, do all the brethren…"

Valerian's handsome face blanched. "No, no. This is

for us alone, Raven. Our secret, to be enjoyed between
us only when Apollo gives sway to Diana, and
Morpheus calls our brethren to dream. If we were found
out, we would be reassigned as Retiarius Tunicatus. I
have no wish to be a net-fighter, or branded effeminate -
- my father would have me killed for such an
embarrassment to his name. It is only by the grace of the
gods that he sent me here, instead of ordering me gelded
and thrown into the river. I do not wish to risk his ire."

Raven nodded; he was secretly pleased to know

Valerian chose him above all others in their barracks,

especially at such a risk. He felt almost as if he was a
champion already. Valerian had been correct, too. The
pain Raven felt seemed less somehow, bearable, his
body sated and relaxed, and his heart comforted.

For the first time since the terrible moment when he'd

learned of his father's death, Raven no longer felt alone.

Valerian stole into Raven's cell at night whenever he

could; as the eldest of the gladiators and a successful
fighter, Valerian was given many liberties the others
were forbidden. He often brought Raven small trinkets

Surfing the Dawn

20

or gifts of food, but more precious than those, he
brought laughter and the warmth of a lover to Raven's
bed.

He grew to feel a deep, abiding love for Valerian, and

offered Valerian the one thing of value he possessed --
his father's centurion ring. Valerian wore it on a chain
around his neck, proof of his feelings for Raven.

Now this.
The gods hated him; there was no other explanation

for his next match.

A heavy hand clamped down on his bare shoulder,

startling him out of his memories. "You are worried."
Valerian clucked his tongue like a disapproving mother
to a child. "We knew someday it would inevitably come
to this, Raven. Why does it upset you so? We have
fought one another in practice many times and have

managed not to kill each other yet."

"That was different. This is the first time I face you

on the sands."

Valerian laughed. "You fret too much, my friend."

He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Tonight, after the
match, I'll make you forget why you were ever worried."

Raven's body hardened in spite of his anxiety, and he

found a smile. "I look forward to it." He gestured toward
the arena and straightened his spine. "The ordinarii are
finished. Let us give them a show they will not soon
forget!"

They briefly clasped forearms, their eyes speaking

silent pledges to one another, before stepping out onto
the hot sands. The crowd cheered; both Raven and
Valerian were well known and favored among the local

competitors. To see them fight each other was a fi

rst

--

the match had been heavily promoted, and the crowd
obviously looked forward to the spectacle, roaring their
approval.

Both men were equipped only with a helmet, short

sword, and small, round shield. They faced the
Emperor's Box at the north end and saluted, waiting for
Maximinus Daia, the sallow, balding emperor, to signal
the start of their match.

Surfing the Dawn

21

At his nod, they faced one another, each

automatically assuming the classic stance, with their
shields held flat across their bodies, pulled lightly
against their left legs and arms. With their legs spread,
supporting their weight, and their swords held at the
ready, they began to circle one another slowly.

The attack began as if they were of one mind. We are

attuned to one another, Raven thought, as his sword met
Valerian's, high, low, high again. He felt each shudder
of iron biting iron travel up his arm into his neck
through bone and muscle. We know each other's moves
before making them and are well-matched. This fight
will not be over quickly.

He proved himself correct. The fight went on much

longer than usual, with neither fighter gaining a
significant advantage over the other. Both scored small

gashes in the other's flesh, enough to spot the sands with
their blood

Unfortunately, the citizens of Rome were jaded in

their tastes and short in temper. Instead of the crowd
working itself into a frenzy at the sight of blood, the
length of the match began to bore them. The cry went up
from the highest tier of the arena, where the lower
classes stood, and was swiftly taken up by the elite in
the lower levels. "Iugula! Iugula!" "Kill! Kill!"

No! Raven thought, feeling the first stirring of panic

in his chest. I will not kill him. I can't!

He looked into Valerian's eyes and saw the same fear

he felt reflected in them.

"Do not panic," Valerian said. Raven could see beads

of sweat glitter on Valerian's forehead like precious
gems. "Keep fighting. We are too costly to replace. The
emperor will not order death." Valerian's arm arced
down, his sword slicing into the fleshy part of Raven's
upper shield-arm.

He assailed Valerian in a flurry of slashes and jabs,

giving no quarter, nor a single breath drawn free from
attack. The modest strikes against his flesh that Valerian
scored went unnoticed as he continued to push Valerian
backward, seeking to corner him.

Surfing the Dawn

22

A cunning twist of his sword unseated Valerian's

hold on his shield; it spun into the sand. Raven moved
quickly, but Valerian's sword caught and held his
downward strike. They danced back and forth across the
sand, each scoring wounds on the other that, while
bleeding copiously, were carefully placed to avoid major
arteries.

They fought until both began to stagger from fatigue.

The crowd was frenzied over the blood-slicked warriors;
in a complete about-face, showing the fickleness of the
arena, they called for mercy from the emperor. "Mitte!"
Send Away!

Raven and Valerian paused briefly, both catching

their breaths. They exchanged a look, knowing they'd
done what few before them had -- they'd both won the
hearts of the audience. The people of Rome were

demanding both live to fight another day. Still, the
decision of they would or not remained with Emperor
Daia.

Raven risked a glance at the emperor's box.

Regardless of the mood of the crowd, live or die, their
fates hung on the emperor's whim. Daia knew how to
stretch the moment of expectation out to his advantage,
forcing the entire arena to hold its collective breath, until
every pair of eyes was focused on the royal box.

When Daia finally raised his thumb -- in effect

ending the match and rewarding Raven and Valerian

with their lives -- it seemed all of the Amphitheatrum
Flavium joined them in a brief sigh of relief.

Raven's cheeks hitched in a grin as they waved

jubilantly to the crowd and walked across the sands to
the exit. "Daia was merciful today, Valerian. Your life
has been spared to fight again another day."

Valerian laughed. "My life? No, my friend, it was

your life he spared."

"Bah, you're crazy. I would've slaughtered you like a

pig."

"I must have delivered too many hits to your helmet

and addled your mind. You're imagining things."

Surfing the Dawn

23

Raven clapped a hand down on Valerian's shoulder

and winced at the bolt of pain that shot up his arm to his
shoulder. "Perhaps he saved us both. Come. Enough talk
about the fickle interests of emperors. I smell of sweat
and blood and taste sand in my mouth. I want a bath,
food, and as much wine as I can swallow."

He had no way of knowing it would be the last meal

he ever took.

Surfing the Dawn

24

Chapter Three

A rough hand woke Raven from a sound, drunken

sleep. He blinked awake, wincing at the pain instantly
stabbing deep into his skull, and moaned.

"Get up, you lazy cur!" The voice belonged to

Darius, one of the gladiators' keepers. A score of years
ago or more, Darius had fought as a gladiator himself.
Although he was long retired from the sands, Darius was
a favorite of the lanista and had never gained his
freedom. Raven knew Darius harbored a deep hate for
the lanista over his continued enslavement, and jealousy
toward those who could still fight and earn their
freedom. It showed in his coarse treatment of the current
fighters. Bony fingers dug into Raven's shoulder,
shaking him again. "Get up!"

Raven glanced through half-slitted eyes at the small

window in his cell, which showed only the thick
blackness of night. He shook the older man off and tried
to roll over. "It is not yet morning, you old fool."

"Get up, you lazy, good-for-nothing! You are

summoned to the home of Marcus Brocchus."

"The Magistrate? For what purpose? It is the middle

of the night!"

A sharp blow with a hard fist deepened the pain in

Raven's skull, but after so many years in the ludus, he

knew better than to retaliate. Fighting back against his
keeper would only earn him a date with the whipping
pole, or worse. He muttered a curse and dragged himself
to his feet.

"To fight, what else? Perhaps the glorious Raven will

finally meet his death for the entertainment of a few
wine-soaked nobles and their whores." Darius must have
thought his sarcasm was quite clever, since he grinned
widely, showing Raven a mouthful of yellowed, broken
teeth.

Raven didn't find him half so amusing. "Get out of

my cell, old man, or it is your death that will greet the
sunrise."

Surfing the Dawn

25

"Get up, or I'll have the guards nail your worthless

hide to the door."

As much as it galled him, Raven knew it wasn't a

completely empty threat. He growled at Darius, but went
about slipping his tunic over his head and his sandals on
his feet. He was in a decidedly sour temper as he
followed Darius down the torch-lit hallway, and it only
worsened when they stopped at another cell and Darius
went through the same process of waking Valerian.

This didn't bode well for either of them. Raven's

frown deepened into a scowl. Two fighters who were
spared only hours before in the Coliseum were now to
fight for the private amusement of the Magistrate?
Private gladiatorial matches served only two purposes --
to fill the lanista's coffers, and to provide the noble
paying for them with blood. If he and Valerian were

pitted against one another under the Magistrate's roof,
dawn would find only one of them still alive.

A cold shiver raced down Raven's spine in spite of

the heat of the night, and when Valerian emerged from
his cell, he saw the same trepidation flickering in
Valerian's eyes.

They obediently fell in behind Darius as he led them

to the training rooms where they would be given their
swords and shields, but their steps, while purposeful and
matched, were as heavy as their hearts.

***

The Magistrate's house was located on a narrow

street on the opposite side of the Amphitheatrum

Flavium, a short walk from the ludus. A silent servant
with downcast eyes and a pale face led them into the
large, airy courtyard at the center of the house. Darius
left them on the doorstep and did not follow them into
the house, much to their surprise. Ordinarily, no
gladiator was allowed out from under the watchful eye
of their keeper when outside the ludus. Brand or no
brand, it was too easy for one of them to try to escape
otherwise.

Surfing the Dawn

26

Raven followed Valerian into the courtyard, where

the servant left them as well. The courtyard was dark, lit
only by a single torch at the far end. For a moment, he
thought they were alone, and wondered if perhaps there
had been some mistake in summoning them.

"Ah, the warriors have finally arrived. You've kept

me waiting, but I forgive you."

The woman's voice was sultry and smoky; Raven felt

it ghost over his skin like a lover's touch, raising
gooseflesh. He'd never heard a voice like that before,
one that brought his body to attention by a few merely
whispered words. He peered into the semi-darkness,
looking for the owner of the incredibly sensuous voice.

She was lying on a chaise at the end of the room near

the single torch, barely illuminated by the flickering
flame, her body draped in diaphanous white. Her hair

was dark gold and fell in loose waves over her
shoulders. Even in the dim firelight, her lush curves
were obvious, and the sight of them made Raven's groin
take notice.

This was the reason he and Valerian were summoned

from the ludus in the middle of the night -- not to
entertain drunken politicians with the clash of steel and
the spray of blood, but to feed the desires of a woman. It
certainly wasn't unheard of. Well-to-do wives of
prominent officials often paid for a night of debauchery
with a gladiator, although they usually chose a location
far more discreet than the home of the Magistrate.

He relaxed and felt Valerian's elbow discreetly nudge

him forward. "My lady. You call, we come."

Her laughter tinkled musically, like finely crafted

silver bells. "Oh, you shall, my brave gladiator, in good
time. I have heard stories of your prowess. Are you truly
as mighty as Jupiter and as beautiful as Apollo? I wished
to see with my own eyes if the stories are true."

Valerian took a step forward, nearly into the circle of

light cast by the torch. "I trust we do not disappoint, my
lady. I am Valerian, and this is Raven."

Again, her delicate laughter filled the air. "Oh, I

know your names, gladiator, but whether you will

Surfing the Dawn

27

disappoint has yet to be seen. I do hold high hopes for
both of you. I am Claudia, close-cousin to the
Magistrate." A pale hand beckoned. "Come closer, let
me see you."

Raven moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with

Valerian fully within the circle of torchlight. He knew
the sight of them side-by-side was impressive; both were
taller than average, broad through the shoulders and
narrow through the waist. Their legs were long, and their
muscles honed by years of training. Admirers often told
them that their scars only added to their feral beauty. He
felt his lips curve in a conceited smile at the appreciation
glowing in the woman's eyes.

Now that he was closer, he could see her features

even in the dim light. She was beautiful, her skin as
smooth and unblemished as fine marble. The color of

her eyes was lost to the darkness, but he could see lust
sparkling in their dark depths. Her cheeks were
pleasantly rounded, and her lips were plump and ripe.
As he watched, her tongue peeked between them,
wetting them.

Raven took a step forward, but her pale hand rose,

stopping him.

"Stay your distance, gladiator. First, I wish to see the

fine flesh I have heard so much about." It was an order
not a request, her tone a reminder that she was close
cousin to a powerful politician, and as such, had his ear.
They would do well not to disobey her or attempt to
touch her without an invitation.

They disrobed quickly, setting aside their weapons

and sandals, each untying his subligaculum, the short

loincloth most gladiators wore on the sands, and tossing
it aside to stand naked and proud before her.

A quick glance showed Valerian's cock was as heavy

as Raven's own, standing thick and ready. Raven felt a
pang of jealousy, but quickly brushed it aside. He was
hard; why should he expect Valerian not to be equally
eager? Neither of them had any choice in the matter,
anyway. They might be gladiators, but in the end, they
were simply slaves, to live or die -- or fuck -- for the

Surfing the Dawn

28

pleasure of whoever could pay for them. He told himself
to be grateful. Sex with a beautiful woman was an
infinitely more desirable outcome than fighting and
probably killing one another for the entertainment of a
few drunken politicians.

Claudia leaned up on one elbow, her eyes widening.

"Ah, such glorious cocks! Surely, you must haunt the
minds of the spectators at the games as Cupid invaded
Psyche's dreams, drawing pleasure from their flesh as
your swords draw blood from your enemies. Tell me, do
you taste as delicious as you appear?"

"There is one way to find out, sweet lady," Valerian

said. He remained where he was, although Raven knew
he fully expected an invitation to come closer.

For all her fragile and ethereal appearance, Claudia

seemed resolute to retain full control of the situation.

She shook her head and pointed at Raven. "You. Taste
him."

Raven was surprised at her order. He would have

thought she would want them to ravish her, as others
who'd paid for their services had. None had ever asked
him to pleasure another gladiator with his mouth. After
all, neither he nor Valerian was a retiarius, one of the
effeminate gladiators who fought with nets and tridents,
known for their sexual proclivities. His and Valerian's
trysts had always taken place privately, with a mind
toward secrecy. Had she so readily seen through them?
He exchanged a bemused look with Valerian, before
dropping to his knees on the cool, marble floor.

He took Valerian in without preamble, with an ease

born of familiarity. The first taste of Valerian on his

tongue swept away any discomfort over performing in
front of Claudia. As addictive as always, the musky salt
flavor filling his mouth sent a bolt of desire whipping
through him, making him hungry for more than a simple
taste. He groaned and wrapped his hand around
Valerian's girth.

He felt Valerian's fingers twist in his hair and heard

Valerian's answering moan as he sucked harder. Wet
sound filled the night, and he nearly forgot Claudia's

Surfing the Dawn

29

presence, but then Claudia's husky voice reached him in
a whisper laden with lust.

"He tastes of ambrosia, doesn't he? Such a pretty

picture the two of you make, you on your knees with his
cock in your mouth!"

Valerian spoke, his voice hoarse with his need. "A

mouth such as his never graced the countenance of any
god, my lady."

Raven's gaze darted toward Claudia. Her shift had

ridden up, exposing soft, white thighs and a thatch of
dark gold curls. He felt his cock throb and balls fill as he
watched her hand slip between her thighs, fingers
teasing at her moist slit. He could smell her arousal
mixing in the air with his own and Valerian's, and the
intoxicating scent made him even harder.

Claudia's lips parted as her fingers danced between

her milky thighs. "Release him," she ordered Raven.
"Valerian, turn around and let Raven make you wet. I
would see his beautiful cock thrust between your
muscular cheeks and hear your grunts as he takes his
pleasure in your ass."

Raven felt Valerian stiffen and looked up to see a

frown crease his brow. Never had Valerian allowed
Raven to breach him. Always Valerian fucked Raven,
never the other way around. Raven had fantasized about
it often, although he kept his desire secret. He knew
Valerian would oppose it, perhaps to the detriment of
their relationship. He watched Valerian curiously,
wondering if he would voice his dislike to Claudia and
risk whatever punishment such open disobedience might
earn him.

To Raven's surprise, Valerian offered not a word of

protest, but turned around and offered Raven his firm
backside. He bent forward at the waist, spreading his
legs, affording Raven a view of the tiny, puckered hole
between his cheeks. Valerian's heavy balls hung

between his thighs, a sight that only served to further
ignite Raven's hunger.

Raven glanced at Claudia, eagerly awaiting her leave

to taste the forbidden bit of Valerian's most private flesh.

Surfing the Dawn

30

She'd spread her legs widely now, her fingers slipping in
and out of her body. Her soft moans were as musical as
her laughter.

"Yes! Go on, lick him," she murmured.
Moving to obey, Raven ducked his head closer and

flicked his tongue over Valerian's hole. The taste was
richer than that of Valerian's cock, muskier, but no less
mouthwatering. He pulled at the flesh with his lips,
delighted when he drew a moan from Valerian. He
slipped one hand between Valerian's legs, fondling
Valerian's full sac.

"Wet your fingers and push one inside him."

Claudia's voice was throaty, although no less
authoritative.

Raven hurried to obey her, slicking his fingers with

his saliva, then gently probing Valerian's hole with the

tip of his forefinger. It slid past the tight ring of muscle,
his digit instantly wrapped in fiery silk. He nibbled at
the firm flesh of Valerian's ass with his teeth as he
pushed his finger in deeper.

To his surprise, Valerian didn't protest the intrusion.

Instead, Valerian bent over farther, as if offering Raven
easier access, encouraging Raven to push his finger in
fully. Valerian's low grunts of pleasure gave Raven
courage to add another finger, thrusting both in deep, up
to the last knuckle.

Never had he felt anything so welcoming as

Valerian's ass squeezing around his fingers, and he

couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to
replace them with his cock. His organ grew so hard at
the mere thought of being encased fully in Valerian's
body that the sensation bordered on pain, and he cried
out. "My lady, please, I want...let me..."

Claudia's answering moan matched Valerian's. "You

wish to fuck him? Oh, yes, I would like to see that, to
watch him impaled by your cock! Show me, Raven.
Show me how a gladiator thrusts his sword into his
enemy!"

Raven needed no further encouragement. He was

beyond worrying about Valerian's reaction as well, since

Surfing the Dawn

31

Valerian had not balked at the use of his fingers. He
removed his hand, slicked his cock, and pressed the head
against Valerian's hole.

Tight, so tight. A fist of hot silk closed over the head

of his prick, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head at
the pleasure it pulled from him. He grabbed Valerian's
hips, pulling Valerian back to meet his thrust, until he
was at last fully seated within Valerian's body. He
stilled, ensorcelled by the sharpness of the pleasure
rolling through him, trying to stave off the inevitable
end.

Valerian hissed an expletive, but did not pull away.

After a moment, he turned his head to glare at Raven.
"By Jupiter's fat cock, fuck me!"

"Wait!"
They both turned to look at Claudia, both having

momentarily forgotten her presence in the heat their
joined bodies created.

She turned on her lounge, spreading her legs wide,

her pink folds wet and inviting. "I want Valerian's cock
inside me as you fuck him, Raven." Her smile was both
lascivious and cunning. "You shall fuck both of us this
way."

In a few awkward steps, Valerian turned and

positioned himself between Claudia's legs without
managing to dislodge Raven. Every movement sent a
sharp bolt through Raven's body. It was a battle for
Raven to keep from coming when every fiber of his
being wanted to release inside Valerian. In his effort to

hold off, he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.

Claudia wrapped her long legs around Valerian's

waist, staring at Raven from over Valerian's shoulder.
One hand reached to Raven's mouth, a finger dabbing at
the drop of blood on his lip. She brought to her mouth,
her tongue darting out for a taste.

Her action did not surprise Raven. Like almost every

Roman, she found blood an aphrodisiac. He'd seen it
often enough during the gladiator matches, men and
women driven to an orgiastic frenzy by the sight of
blood.

Surfing the Dawn

32

"Now, Raven. Fuck him, and through him, fuck me!"
Raven shouted as he plunged into Valerian's body

again and again, driving his cock in as deeply as he
could with each bold stroke. In his mind, he pictured
Valerian's cock driving into Claudia, and realized she
was correct. It was as if he was fucking them both at the
same time.

It didn't seem to long enough to suit him, but then he

thought no one could suffer such pleasure for too long a
time without going mad. He heard Claudia call out, saw
her head dip toward Valerian's throat. Valerian
shuddered against him, and the muscles of Valerian's ass
clenched tightly around his prick. Raven lost all control
then, letting his orgasm bloom in a spike of ecstasy that
brought a shout of victory to his lips. He spilled, his
fingers white-knuckled on Valerian's hips.

Panting, trying to gain his breath while the last

tremors of pleasure rippled through his belly, Raven let
his cock slip free from Valerian's body.

It was then that he realized Claudia's mouth was still

pressed to Valerian's throat, and saw the dark stain of
blood covering Valerian's shoulder and Claudia's face.

He cried out, instinctively backing up a step or two.

"Mother of the gods! What have you done? You've
killed him!" His gaze cast about the ground for his
sword, thinking to end the demon wearing the beautiful
woman's skin.

It seemed to happen in a trice. Before he could bend

to fetch his sword, Claudia was on him. He was barely
aware of Valerian's body slumping to the ground.

By the gods, she was strong! He found himself

locked in her embrace, unable to move. No chains
forged by the gods could have kept him captive more
easily than the slim, white arms encircling him.

"The Magistrate! His servants will sound the alarm.

You will be hunted and killed for the demon you are!"

Claudia's voice was no more than a whisper, but her

words rang in his ears. "Be still. I fed well this night.
The Magistrate and most of his servants are already
dead. I have not murdered your dear lover. I... Oh, dear

Surfing the Dawn

33

Raven, I am so lonely. I wished only to have the
pleasure of his company. And yours. Forever."

Raven's recoiled in horror when Claudia parted her

lips wide and he saw the long, sharp, bloodstained teeth
behind them.

He felt a pinprick at his throat, then waves of gray

washing over him, dulling his senses. The waves grew
darker, blackness nipping at the edges of his mind. He
surrendered himself to the darkness and knew no more.

Surfing the Dawn

34

Chapter Four
Malibu, California
Present Day

Raven sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his

father's ring. He couldn't seem to make sense of what his
eyes told him. He heard Sundown and Lucien enter the
room, but ignored them, wholly focused on the meaning
of the unexpected gift.

The last time he'd seen the ring it had been swinging

from a chain hanging around Valerian's neck on the
night Claudia turned them both.

"Where are you going?" Valerian had asked him.
Raven thrust his fingers through his hair. "Where? I

don't know...away. I cannot bear this, what we've
become! Monsters, demons... Come with me. Let us

leave her before she can taint us further with her evil."

To his chagrin, Valerian laughed. "We are already

tainted. What more could she do to us? You do not
understand her, Raven. She's suffered, too. Listen--"

"No! I will not listen. She changed us, took our lives,

and left us...what? Dead? Certainly not alive!"

"Where would we go, anyway? We can't go back to

the ludus. Don't you understand, Raven? We are free.
Finally, free!"

"We are doomed, Valerian! Better a noble death in

the arena than this!"

"The arena is for mere mortals. We are now gods!"
When he realized with a jolt of horror that Valerian

was embracing their new life, he'd fled the Magistrate's
house. He'd gone underground into the crypts and
catacombs, hiding among the vermin and old bones,

venturing out to feed only when the bloodlust burned
like fire in his throat.

He'd never set eyes on either Claudia or Valerian

again. Where they went after that night, he didn't know,
nor did he endeavor to find out. He didn't want to find
them. He nursed a deep hatred for Claudia for turning
them and for Valerian for choosing to stay with her.

Surfing the Dawn

35

He spent the centuries hiding, always hiding, in

crypts, in mausoleums, basements, wherever he could
find shelter from both the sun and people. Loneliness
was his only bedfellow for more years than he cared to
count. It was only lately, within the past hundred or so
years, that he finally gave in to temptation out of
desperation and turned his two fledglings.

Now, after all this time, his past had found him.
A softly cleared throat brought him out of his reverie.

He glanced up at Sundown and Lucian.

"Boss, tell us what's wrong, you," Sundown said. The

fledglings' faces held twin worried looks. No doubt, he
thought. In the past century of their new existence,
they'd never before seen Raven so upset. To see him so
out of sorts now, and over nothing but a piece of old
jewelry, was deeply disturbing.

Raven nodded to himself. He'd kept his past private

for so long, zealously guarding it, but now it was here,
knocking at his door, and it was best if his two
fledglings were told about Claudia and Valerian. The
older vampires could make short work of the younger
ones if they weren't prepared.

He told them everything, starting with his father's

death and ending with the night of his turning. "I haven't
seen either of them since, but the ring proves they've
found me. This is what I want you two to do. After
sunset, you are going to leave here. Go to Louisiana.
Sundown, you know the bayou. Take Lucian and hide
out there. I'll send word when it's safe to come home."

"No way, boss. We're not leaving you." Lucian's eyes

were as hard as his voice. Not that Raven could ever be
cowed by a vampire ages younger than himself, and his
fledgling to boot, but it warmed him to see it anyway.

Sundown stood with Lucian. "Oui. Our place is here,

you, not hiding in the bayou with the snakes and gators."

Raven mentally rolled his eyes, then gave them his

most severe glare. "Your place is wherever I say it is.

These two vampires are as old and strong as I am, and I
have no way of knowing their intentions. They may be
here to destroy me, and they may very well succeed.

Surfing the Dawn

36

You will obey me." He had no qualms about sending
them away. Even if he met his end, they would survive.
They had each other and the necessary skills. He'd
taught them well. "Now, go. I want to be alone."

They tried to argue, and in the end, he practically had

to throw them out of his room. Their loyalty was
touching, but he would not allow them to risk their lives
for him. He owed them too much for that. They'd eased
the pain of loneliness for him, and for that, he would
keep them alive, even if he had to alienate them to do it.

***

The moon, bloated and white, painting the waves

silver, illuminated Raven. He floated belly down on his
board, hands trailing in the cold water. The cold didn't

bother him, in fact, he welcomed it. It kept his mind
sharp.

There'd been no sign of Claudia or Valerian, not

since the arrival of the ring a week ago. At first, Raven
kept inside the house, hunkered down, on edge, waiting,
but as time went on he began to feel restless, and the
thirst began to burn in his throat. He went out to feed
twice, but returned quickly, and then was ashamed of
himself for acting like a frightened fledgling.

After seven long days alone, he decided enough was

enough. If they came for him, so be it. Until then, he
would enjoy what few pleasures remained to him,
including surfing.

He caught a wave and rode it to shore. As he

approached, he saw a single figure on the beach,
watching him. He knew at once who it was.

"It is good to see you again, Raven."
Valerian looked no different than he had on their last

night together. Tall and handsome, his face still bore a
jagged scar dissecting his left eyebrow. Raven
remembered the fight and the Thracian who'd put it
there.

Raven would have expected to feel hate, loathing,

and a fierce desire to rip Valerian's throat out, not the

Surfing the Dawn

37

thrill coursing through his veins and the sudden surge of
desire that nearly buckled his knees. He struggled to
control himself, to keep from flinging himself at
Valerian and tasting the lips he'd dreamt of for so many
centuries.

He dropped his board to the sand. When he spoke, his

voice dripped with ice. "What do you want, Valerian?"

"What do you want, Valerian? That's all you have to

say to me after all these centuries?"

"What do you expect me to say? You made your

choice, and it wasn't me. Why have you come back
now?"

Valerian had the nerve to look shocked and angry.

"Wait...I didn't choose anybody. You left, not I. You ran
off like a coward and disappeared. I spent the next
thousand years looking for you!"

Raven snarled, his fangs glinting in the moonlight.

"I'm no coward. You chose to embrace what she made
us!"

"What choice did I have? It was better than being a

slave in the ludus, forced to fight for my life, bleeding
for the crowd's entertainment. I was never going to earn
my freedom, Raven. You know that. My father would
never have allowed it. And every day I worried that I
would be forced to slay you in the arena. Doing so
would've killed me!"

"Better an honorable death on the sands than this!"
Valerian snorted. "Those are the same words you

threw at me the night we were turned. You once said

you loved me. Had we remained human and you earned
your freedom, would you have left me at the ludus to
rot?"

Raven paused. He never thought of it that way. What

would he have done? Even if he won his freedom in the
arena or lasted out his contract with the ludus, he could
never have afforded to buy Valerian. Would he have
simply turned his back on Valerian and walked away?
He growled and turned his head, feeling unsettled and
not willing to allow Valerian to see his unease. "It

Surfing the Dawn

38

doesn't matter what I would have done. My right to
choose was taken from me that last night."

He picked up his board again and headed toward the

water. There was time to catch one good, last wave
before sunrise.

With any luck, perhaps it would be his last.
Valerian caught his arm, but he shook it off. "Where

are you going?"

"Surfing."
"Are you crazy? The sun will be up in a few

minutes!"

"I know."
"So now you have a death wish?"
"Leave me alone, Valerian. I've survived over two

thousand years without you. I think I can survive one
more day."

"She never meant to hurt either of us, you know."
Those last words broke what little control Raven had

over himself. He threw the board to the side and
launched himself at Valerian. They flew backward onto
the sand. Raven pinned Valerian down, although it
wasn't easy. Valerian's strength matched his own. "No?
She was a monster, a demon who took our lives for no
reason other than a few hours amusement!"

"Why did you make your fledglings?"
Raven gaped at Valerian. "How did you know about

them? If you've harmed them, I'll--"

Valerian heaved Raven off him and sat up. "I haven't

touched them. I saw them when I delivered your father's
ring. Answer me, Raven. Why did you create them?"
"That's none of your fucking business."

Valerian barked a bitter laugh. "Never mind. I can tell

you why. You made them because you were lonely.
That's the same reason Claudia turned us. She was alone
for a long time, Raven. She thought she was giving us a
great gift, freeing us from slavery to the ludus, giving us
immortality. It hurt her deeply when you rejected her. It
still does."

"That's different," Raven spat.

Surfing the Dawn

39

"Oh, is it? Did you ask them first, Raven? Did you

give them the choice you claim Claudia denied you? I
think not. You're not only a coward, you're a hypocrite."

Valerian's words were like a splash of icy seawater

on Raven's face. He gasped and jumped to his feet.
"No...I would never..."

But he had. Why hadn't he seen it before? He'd taken

their lives without a thought to what they may have
wanted or the lives they might have hoped to lead. Yet,
Lucian and Sundown seemed happy with him, with their
new existences. They'd never complained, not after the
original shock had worn off. Would he have felt the
same if he'd stayed with Valerian and Claudia? Could he
have been happy for the past two thousand years instead
of wallowing in a lonely life of his own making?

"You turned those two men just as Claudia turned us,

and for the same reason. Are they unhappy, Raven? Do
they hate you for it?"

"They're my friends."
Valerian confirmed Raven's thoughts. "As Claudia

and I would have been to you had you stayed," He stood
up and dusted the sand from his clothes, then took a step
toward Raven. "Let the past go, Raven. We all made
mistakes. Claudia should have asked us. I should not
have so willingly accepted my fate. And you should not
have hidden from me. All these centuries have been
wasted when we could've been together."

His hand cupped Raven's cheek, strong and warm. "I

still love you, you know. Not even two thousand years
has changed my feelings for you."

"Did you really search for me?"
"For a thousand years, and then I grieved for a

thousand more when I couldn't find you. Nothing eased
my pain, not even Claudia. Do you know it was only by
accident that I found you? We visit California every fifty

years or so. Imagine my shock when we arrived this
time and I smelled your scent clinging to the beach! I
was excited, but frightened that you would reject me
again. I sent you the ring because I wanted you to

Surfing the Dawn

40

remember how it was between us, back when you first
gave it to me."

Raven closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling

Valerian's scent, reveling in the feel of Valerian's hand
against his cheek. The years seemed to melt away, and
they were once again gladiators in ancient Rome. "I
remember."

When Valerian drew Raven into his strong arms,

Raven didn't protest, too overwhelmed as feelings long
buried surged to the surface. Their lips met in a
crushing, bruising kiss, their bodies melding to one
another in a perfect fit. Raven would have been content
to stay in Valerian's embrace forever, if the first rays of
the sun had not begun to peek over the horizon, burning
their skin.

Valerian hissed at the pink streaks in the east. "Shall

we stay here and greet the dawn together, or go inside
the house and talk?"

Raven smiled and picked up his board. "Inside,

although I can think of half a dozen things I'd rather do
with you than talk. We have millennia to make up for."

Valerian didn't return his smile, instead catching his

arm. "Raven, Claudia is waiting inside."

Raven froze, frowning, his new feelings of warmth

dimming. "You brought her here, to my house?"

"She is my mate, Raven, as much as you ever were."

Valerian's eyes glimmered with emotion. "I would ask
you to forgive and accept her. Believe me, no one is
going to force anything upon you, but there is room in
my heart for you both."

The sun's rays were growing stronger. Raven's skin

began to burn uncomfortably, yet he didn't move. Why
should he forgive Claudia? Then again, after realizing he
was guilty of the same sin as she, how could he continue
to punish her for it? And Valerian... Now that they'd
found each other again, Raven didn't even want to
contemplate another day without Valerian in his life. He
would rather stay on the beach and fry. "Come on. We'll
talk. I make no promises, though."

Surfing the Dawn

41

"Fair enough." Valerian glanced over his shoulder.

"We'd better run, or we won't be able to discuss
anything. We'll be nothing but two piles of ash blowing
in the wind."

They ran as if the hounds of hell were snapping at

their heels, racing over the sand toward the house. They
made it inside just as the skin on their backs began to
smolder. Raven slammed the door shut on the day,
locking it out. He leaned his forehead against the cool
wood and tried to find the fortitude to turn around and
face his future.

He would almost rather open the door again and face

the sun.

Surfing the Dawn

42

Chapter Five

It didn't happen overnight. Hell, it didn't happen in a

week, or even in a month. Lucian and Sundown
remained hidden somewhere in Louisiana bayou country
because Raven refused to call them home until he
decided what he was going to do -- not an easy task
since he spent the entire time fluctuating between
flashes of extreme attraction toward Valerian and
Claudia, and other times when he utterly mistrusted of
both of them. One moment he desperately wanted
Valerian only, wishing Claudia would take a short walk
in the sunlight, and the next, he sincerely felt he was
willing to accept them both. He alternated worrying that
he would never fully be able to let go of the past and that
he was slowly going stark, raving mad.

It didn't help that Valerian and Claudia were slowly

working on him, methodically wearing down his
resolve. A smile here, a touch there, one would give him
a heated look full of raw passion, while the other gazed
at him hungrily, knowing full well his body would react
even if his mind remained unconvinced. They both
weathered his most towering rages unflinchingly, and
graciously accepted the remorse that always followed
his fits of temper. He knew they were doing it, too, and
while he resented their machinations, he welcomed them
at the same time. He wanted them, and he didn't want
them. In other words, he existed in a constant state of
flux and found it exhausting.

He knew it was finally over the evening he awoke

from a troubled sleep to find them both in his bed,
naked, wearing only twin smiles of seduction. Trapped
between Claudia's soft, voluptuous curves and Valerian's

lean, hard muscles, he quickly realized it wasn't such a
bad place to be. The tension he'd awoken with drained
out of him as Claudia's hand rubbed small circles over
his belly and Valerian's lips teased his right nipple.

His cock had woken moments before the rest of him

and rose hard and heavy between his thighs. Claudia
offered him a smile full of promise before she lowered

Surfing the Dawn

43

her head over his groin and took him into her warm, wet
mouth. He groaned, reaching for Valerian's lips.

Valerian's cock rubbed against his thigh as they

deepened their kiss. He slipped his hand between their
bodies and wrapped his fingers around it, gently
stroking. Unwilling to leave Claudia unattended, his
other hand felt for the cleft between her softly rounded
buttocks, his fingers dipping into her hot, moist cleft.

All three were connected by hands and mouths, a full

circle of steadily rising passion. Raven could feel
Claudia and Valerian's needs as sharply as he felt his
own, and responded with increasing eagerness.

He had the oddest feeling of homecoming wash over

him. It felt right to him, them being together, just as it
had all those years ago in Rome. He gave himself over
to them wholly and completely.

Claudia's mouth left his cock as she threw one long,
silken leg over his hips, straddling him. She guided his
cock inside her. Raven hissed as her body molded over
his, tight and hot.

He urged Valerian up, until he could reach Valerian's

cock with his mouth. Too long he'd dreamed of
Valerian's taste. He took Valerian in, sucking hard,
wanting to gorge himself on the flavor.

Claudia moaned as she rode him, and leaned forward

to kiss Valerian. Raven swallowed Valerian's seed as

Claudia swallowed his cry of ecstasy and Valerian, hers.
Raven's shout of joy rang through the room as he spilled
inside Claudia. Together, they collapsed on the sweat-
damped sheets in a tangle of arms and legs.

Raven thought they'd both fallen asleep until he heard

Valerian's whisper. "Will you call your fledglings home
now?"

"Yes, but not yet. I want to enjoy being alone, just the

three of us, for a while. Believe me, we won't get a
minute's peace when Sundown and Lucian come home."

"Will they accept us, do you think?" Claudia asked.
He looked down at her and winked. "They'd better.

I'd hate to have to stake them."

Surfing the Dawn

44

Claudia's eyes widened with shock. "Raven, you

wouldn't!"

He chuckled. "No, but it probably won't hurt to let

them think I would. Wait until you meet them. I'm afraid
I was far too lenient with them after I turned them. They
can be quite a handful. Opinionated, sarcastic,
pigheaded... "

"Oh, just like their maker," Valerian said. He winced

when Raven popped him a good one on the head.

"Don't make me have to stake you."
Valerian laughed. "Gods, I missed you."
Their arms and legs were still entwined as they

settled down for a nap. The sun would set in a couple of
hours, and they would all be hungry. It would be the
first time they'd hunted together, and Raven found
himself looking forward to it. For now, he was content

to remain in a sated tangle.

A knot of lovers, Raven thought, pulling both

Valerian and Claudia into a tighter embrace. It was a
knot he hoped would never again come undone.

He didn't know what the future held for the three of

them, but there was one thing he did know for sure -- his
nights of playing Russian roulette with the dawn were
over.
He had something to live for again.

~END

Surfing the Dawn

45

If you enjoyed this, try these other stories from Kiernan
Kelly and Torquere Press!

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He's starting to crack under the pressure of Cael's
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When Cael's old boss shows up to remind him just

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Knight Shade: The Knight of Swords

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Trying to help Sally, the young soul who needs his

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Seti's Heart

Cursed by the god who shares his name, Seti was an

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Logan is a graduate student who stumbles on Seti in

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Surfing the Dawn

46

him. Logan figures any way he looks at it, a missing
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Vyper

Vyper is a dashing pirate whose name strikes fear in

the hearts of blackguards and civilians alike. A

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of Jamaica, but soon entangles him in a web of lies,
deceit, and double-crosses, and introduces him to the
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world.

Byron Caldwell is a handsome, titled British

landowner, whose holdings include a thriving plantation
on the island of Jamaica. The only shadow on his
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off his hands.

Elizabeth wants one thing and one thing only, the key

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The events spurred by a seemingly innocuous

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Surfing the Dawn

47