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SOUL PROTECTOR

Lil Gibson

Soul Protector

Lil Gibson

SOUL PROTECTOR

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Soul Protector

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Lil Gibson

CHAPTER ONE

Gallina Region--1299 A.D.

They came from every direction, pouring over the earth like giant ants. Terror

filled screams reached crevices and open sky. Body parts littered their cliff homes and
dotted the earth below. The ‘demon men’ scaled the vertical escarpment to their
hollowed out abodes, some sauntering up the sheer vertical incline as if out for a
moonlit walk. The cliffs held no refuge now except to house the spirit of the Anasazi
for all time.

Slowly Sarkinda crept, working her way further into the blue Halgaito shale

chasms, hoping against hope to escape the carnage that foretold the end of an entire
people. Tears burned her eyes and she frantically blinked them away. Her sight must
be clear or the demons would not claim her life but the cliffs, themselves. Stealthily,
skillfully, methodically, she descended, the sun-parched rock scraping her fingers and
any place her bare skin touched.

Sari, small and lithe, had covered her sunlit hair and donned a dark shift in an

effort to blend seamlessly into the mountains. The giant beasts, however, must have
caught her movements for like jackals sniffing out a further treat, they swerved in her
direction. Their glowing orbs tracked her progress as they loped toward her,
confidently. She leapt the remaining distance to the ground and ran, knowing her time
drew to an end. She clearly posed no match in speed and preternatural powers
compared to the abominations pursuing her. She glanced back, gauging how many
seconds she had left to live, when she collided with warm molten rock that banded
around her, shifting to align itself to her body even as a cylinder of light drizzle encased
her. Since no rain had fallen on the pueblo in three seasons, she knew the mist to be a
dying vision. Darkness took her.

Elicean cradled the small body tightly, materializing in his chambers deep

beneath the earth. Her hair had lost its covering and he buried his face in the unbound
mass breathing deeply, drowning himself in her scent, the scent he had only caught
whiffs of from gently blowing winds, until this moment. She had come so close to
perishing in the massacre, that his entire being shook. They would have torn her to

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shreds, draining her bodily fluids until nothing remained of her delicate frame and pure
heart but dust.

Two seasons before, he had traveled to the surface and chanced to observe her

tending a young cougar. Her gentleness in the face of a creature that could probably kill
her with one careless swipe of its paw terrified him in a way nothing had before. Since
that day, he’d returned to the surface regularly to observe her playfulness when far
enough from her tribe to safely run and tumble with her giant pet.

He also witnessed her many kindnesses and unrelenting dedication to those

needing her healing skills…and her vulnerability and sadness at not being accepted by
those same people she aided. For though she served as shaman to this tribe of Anasazi
her differences painted her an outcast. The Anasazi had warm brown eyes and sable
hair straighter than the sheer cliffs they called home. Sari, he’d overheard them call her,
had hair the color of sunlight that shimmered in rivulets down her back, all the way to
her small but firm behind. Her figure was slight and lithe; her facial features finely
chiseled, but for her large, slanted turquoise eyes. She had a pert, button nose, and a
delicately bowed mouth…a mouth he had fantasized on every part of his anatomy.

A lovelier sight than Sarkinda, he could not imagine and the need to approach

her had become a constant ache living in his heart and lower. He envied the breeze that
brushed along her skin, swirling in and around her glorious locks, and sometimes
floated her tinkling laughter and alluring scent to his watching place. He sighed,
something he couldn’t remember doing before Sari danced into his sights. She had
become somewhat of an obsession but one he had no desire to quell. Then today, when
sensing her life almost forfeit, he shifted to the surface, killing the murderers pursuing
her with a mere thought before bringing her to his lair.

Sari stirred and groaned, mumbling in her sleep until she suddenly froze,

recalling the explosive images of carnage, blood, and terror. Warily she cracked open
her lashes. A dark giant man with deep-set, iridescent copper eyes and shoulder length
hair the color of midnight, slouched lazily in a massive high-backed chair with ornate
panels on either side supporting his well-defined forearms. Her half-lidded gaze
traveled over him, wondering if she had traveled to the next realm or simply dream-
weaved herself into her reoccurring dark-sided reverie. Since coming to her aunt’s
people, Sari had caught shadowed glimpses of this apparition watching her, but
whenever she sought to catch a glimpse of him, the shadow-man vanished. The giant
also invaded her dreams and what once seemed frightening to behold had, in fact,
become comforting in his constancy. She now thought of him as her spirit guardian,
possibly sent by her parents. However, this was no spirit. He looked as solid as the

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throne he sat on and infinitely more intimidating, almost terrifying if not for his relaxed,
non-threatening state. His body measured as enormous as his countenance. His hands
were large, square shaped with long, sturdy fingers that rested on dense, corded thighs
thicker than her waist. Everything about him was of massive proportion right down to
his booted feet. As her gaze worked its way back up his body, her eyes widened at the
burgeoning organ between his legs that his leggings failed to hide. It seemed to stir and
increase the longer she stared. As a healer, Sari studied male anatomy and regularly
treated and touched it in every conceivable area. But never could she recall the
awareness her body now experienced with nothing more than the light graze of her
attention on him. Her abdomen felt heavy and tingled, making her rub her legs together
to ease the ache there, and her nipples hardened, pushing uncomfortably against her
dark leather shift. Confused by her body’s reaction, she turned her gaze upward
colliding with twin molten copper pools…regarding her intently.

Sarkinda cleared her throat, color flooding her cheeks. “It’s not polite to stare,”

she blurted before realizing she was every bit as guilty as he. The brow above his right
eye rose slightly while the corner of his mouth quirked up on one side. She seemed to
have quite a talent for self-embarrassment suddenly. “How did I get here?”

“I brought you,” he answered.
“Where is here?”
“You are in my home.”
“Where is your home, you obtuse being?”
“A safe enough place for you,” he answered evenly.
“Why won’t you tell me where you have taken me?” And why was she more

aggravated than worried?

“I have answered every question you asked.”
Sarkinda snorted and leveled a measuring look of disgust. “Who are you?”
Elicean hid a grin at her growing impatience but he had a few questions of his

own. “Who are you?” he asked very softly.

“I am called Sarkinda but then, you know very well who I am. You observe me

while I tend the members of my tribe, and even watch over me in my dreams. I have
seen you quite clearly since arriving to the Gallina Region.”

“You dream of me, little one,” Elicean murmured—how scintillating,

stimulating, gratifying “…how nice.”

He’d been unaware she’d espied him above but to dream of him as well made

something in him swell.

“They are more like nightmares,” she clarified with a honyed smile.

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Elicean rose to his full height and strode purposefully across the room toward

her.

Sarkinda stared in dawning horror as the giant before her was suddenly

supplanted with the image of the one who had killed her aunt. “You, you’re one of
them. One of the monsters who massacred my people,” she accused, her voice rising in
tandem with her realization. “What do you really want with me?” Terror took hold of
her, making her irrational.

Elicean froze in mid stride. Hands fisted at his side and through clenched teeth

slowly and quietly stated, “I am not some monster, not a soulless entity bent on
devouring you. I’m your rescuer, curse it, and have never harmed a surface dweller,”
he added indignantly. “Now get that terrified look of accusation off your face or I will
erase it for you.” Eli realized almost immediately he’d embarked on the wrong tactic,
for Sarkinda bolted for the exit.

She did not get far.

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CHAPTER TWO

Elicean snagged her around the waist and lifted her off the ground, while

securing her wrists with his free hand to keep her from hurting herself. He only wished
a third hand to muffle her outraged rantings. He had no experience dealing with over
emotional surface females and for a moment simply stood there in helpless
consternation. His brothers would be rolling on the ground hysterical from laughter if
they could see him at this moment, struggling with a wee female and at such a loss as to
a course of action. How did one calm a frightened animal?

He shuffled her about until she rested comfortably in his arms. She bit him on

the shoulder for his efforts. He carried her to his chair and held her on his lap, fingers
covering her bee-stung lips securely, and commenced crooning soft reassurances.
When she ceased squirming on his forbearance and calmed sufficiently, he began
speaking quietly.

“I am called Elicean but most friends and family call me Eli. I belong to the

Sumerian sect of utukku. We are an advanced species of superior intellect and powers.”
Sarkinda raised her eyebrows skeptically, tilting her head to the left but remained silent.
Eli gifted her with a wry grin and continued. “The Sumerians and two neighboring
sects, the Carnomians and Alterians inhabit the massive catacombs of inner earth and
have for countless lifetimes.

“A little more than three centuries ago ancient scrolls, uncovered by the

Carnomians, told of an immortal sect of utukku that could shape shift or dissolve into
vapor and travel through the densest substance to emerge in a different world. A
surface world where there existed no ceilings or walls but open space farther than the
eye could see with a sphere of light high above, illuminating it all. A land that shone
bright where ours was dim and open where ours was contained. In truth, the outer crust
of our world where they encountered other less advanced species that offered a vast
array of delicacies spread like a smorgasbord just waiting to be consumed. It posed an
unholy temptation for our less than civilized neighbors—and not merely for sustenance
but for the supposed God-like power and freedom from darkness that went with it—

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when feeding from certain of these species.” Sarkinda stiffened in his arms, expelling
a helpless yelp.

“Shh.” Two fingers stilled her protest. The hand that silenced her voice then

changed to lightly graze her lips. After a time, he lowered his hand and rested it gently
over her hip. “I will explain, but for now relax and let me continue.” Her eyes bulged
at the word relax, as if he had lost what little sense she credited him with but she settled
carefully against him once more.

He recounted the story of his people like a fairytale, which Sari found strangely

comforting. His voice alone soothed her—it’s deep timber reaching into her, touching a
chord no one had reached before.

“The information fired exploration,” Elicean proceeded, “and from there, the

discovery of a portal to the surface. Many years later there surfaced a theory that the
elixir for shape shifting and mass altering lay in the fluids of the primitive humans
living on the surface, and that the last drops of this elixir brought with it the very soul of
the human. With every stolen soul, the taker’s power increased until finally, the gift of
immortality achieved.”

Sarkinda sat up and stared at Elicean incredulously. “That’s insane!”
“’Insane’ only begins to describe these fanatics,” rasped his tortured reply.

Elicean silently swore at the stupidity and evil inventiveness of monks who could
justify cold-blooded murder in hopes of receiving omnipotent stature.

“Many thousands of surface dwellers were massacred before the most powerful

of my sect formed an Order to protect those unable to protect themselves from the
crazed faction of Carnomians calling themselves ‘Spirit Lifters’.

“But now, it appears they have again found their way to the surface, and once

more must be stopped.”

Sarkinda sat dry eyed and somber before replying.
“I have observed what you describe, Elicean.”
Her soft melodic voice caressed his name and soothed something deep inside

him. She was such a kind gentle creature to have witnessed such horror. “I deeply
regret my tardiness at the time of your greatest need, all I can promise…”

“No,” she interrupted impatiently, “I’m telling you that I have seen this kind of

destruction before today,” she explained succinctly.

“What say you, Sarikinda?”
“On my journey to my aunt three seasons ago, several villages I passed had been

ravaged and deserted, wreaking with the stench of death. At first I believed warring
tribes to be responsible but the bodies and torn body-parts I encountered were

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abnormally dehydrated leaving behind only human hide; a condition not even an
unforgiving sun could claim. The strangest thing, however, was the lack of blood. If
there had been a battle the ground would have been stained reddish brown. My people
weren’t the first.”

“No, I believe they were not,” he said, anger and resignation ringing from his

gravely voice.

“So…how would you classify these fanatics, as cannibals…or vampires? That

is how they ingest this supposed elixir, is it not?”

Elicean stilled, letting none of his inner turmoil show on his face but inside a

war waged. He longed to tell her everything but would she accept and trust him if she
knew everything about his kind? It was a course fraught with untold consequences. “I
will explain at a later time when you are ready. I have told you much this day, some
sacred to our people and not shared with outsiders. Be grateful for that, and when the
time is right, I will reveal more.”

“Why did you tell me about your people if it is forbidden? We are little more

than strangers.”

“Whatever we are, sweet one, we are not strangers. I said what I did because I

want your trust, not your fear. I won’t harm you, nor will I let another. You are safe.”
Elicean paused. “Now I want to hear about your people, Sarkinda, and from where you
journeyed.”

She stiffened. Panic supplanting the curiosity in her turquoise eyes. She

changed the subject.

“Elicean, you must take me to the surface immediately, Lifthrasir was away

hunting when the evildoers attacked. He will be frantic to find me; we must go now and
bring him here. Please, Eli, what if they come back and harm him; I couldn’t bear it,
not after all else. And what of my people—possibly one or two survived…”

Sarkinda’s wild-eyed, agitated plea trailed off. Her pallor had turned ghostly

white. “My brave little healer, you need to rest.” Ignoring her protestations, he stood
up with her still in his arms and carried her across the room as if she weighed no more
than a feather.

“No, Elicean, we must go now. If you don’t help me, I will go—“ Elicean once

again halted her words with a finger over her lips, forcing her down on the bed.

“Take your hands off me, you unruly giant,” she insisted, furiously.
“Not until you stay where I plant you, my wee warrior,” he answered, easing her

back on to the soft platform then stretching out beside her, crossing his right leg over
her thighs, firmly anchoring her while gently stroking the lush, silken, sun-kissed hair

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off her damp cheeks and heavy lashed lids. A sheen of perspiration gathered on her
skin, releasing her scent. It intoxicated him beyond bearing. He nuzzled his face into
her neck and tasted her, licking, nibbling; intending to tear her soft, supple flesh for a
sip of her juices.

“I’m not your anything, you must not continue to manhandle me; it’s only for

my chosen one to be so familiar. You must keep your distance. Eli—” She squirmed,
groaning as if she fought not only Elicean’s rising passion but her own. Her struggles
only served to inflame him further. What did he want of this human? Or more to the
point how much of her did he want and would she allow him to take it. Force was out
of the question. She must surrender to him.

“Eli,” she shouted, grabbing him by his tunic and pushing him onto his back,

taking them both careening onto the floor.

“Oooofff,” Elicean responded as he took the full force of both their weights. For

one so small she had great strength of will.

Sari landed flat on Elicean’s chest, her knee mistakenly finding his groin,

eliciting another grunt, this time one of agony before he turned her over pinning her to
the ground and panting as if he had run a great distance. “Woman,” he rasped,
determinedly, “you will cease ordering me about. If there is to be any ordering, it will
come from me. Now heed me for I have a demand of my own. Where do you hail
from? The Anasazi are not your people, they can’t be. You are as different from them
as sunshine to rain and were treated little better than a fox in a flock of chickens. Who
are your people, little one, I will have your answer before you escape this cold floor,”
he demanded.

Sari wiggled impatiently, forcing a groan from the weight atop her, this time in

answer to a different pain entirely. “My aunt is Anasazi and the lineage of my parents
unknown to me as my they were killed when I was a small child. My father’s mother
took me in, where she cared for and trained me as a healer until sending me here before
her death,” she answered mechanically. She closed her eyes to keep him from reading
the truth. “My aunt was the last of my family, I am alone.”

Her answer, recited as if rehearsed, revealed an ineptitude at subterfuge that told

him more than he needed, for the moment, but another question burned for an answer.
“Who is Lifthrasir?” he asked quietly.

Sari met his gaze, a soft smile transforming her bowed lips to those of a siren’s.

He had never seen her in the company of a man and greatly resented her expression
unless triggered by thoughts of him. “Rasir is my kitten, an orphaned Mountain cat
who believes I am his mama.”

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“An unusual name, where did it come from?”
“The name comes from N…nowhere, I made it up.”
Elicean struggled to hide his grin. He knew that Lifthrasir meant ‘eager for life’

from a favorite tale told by his Norse grandmother. And he knew that Sarkinda knew,
as well. She had just reveled her true heritage.

Elicean grunted in chagrined relief, she would never succeed in hiding what he

wanted to know, and tried to keep his mouth from twitching. The last time he’d seen
her ‘kitten’, it had weighed over two hundred pounds. “It’s past time that one found its
own way, sweet one. Now sleep.” She went lax underneath him at his command. He
eased off her, gently scooped her up, and arranged her on his large bed, exposing the
long white column of her neck. For a moment he simply stared, hypnotized by the blue
pulsing vein just under the surface of her satiny throat. He grazed the pulse point with
his finger again and then again forcing the blood to rush. A groan of surrender broke
from his lips before he knelt beside her trailing his mouth across her lips, jaw line and
pulse point where his incisors scraped and tore her soft flesh releasing her life force into
his mouth. Her blood promptly addicted him and he wanted more, wanted to inhale her,
be inside her, possess her. He threw himself away, materializing on a lounge at an
adjacent wall. If he drank more, she could be damaged or die and he would not let that
happen. She was special to him, though how special he had yet to determine. Within
his tribe, the transference or exchange of blood remained limited to lifemates—or
family when required. What made the compulsion to take hers so strong? He went
back and licked her wounds closed. Would she have any memory of his feeding?

His clan of utukku, though cousin to the vampyre and ghoul, considered

themselves far superior, choosing not to prey on humans evolving parallel to their own
species, even if substantially weaker. Instead, they put their talents toward technology
to curb their cravings through specially formulated animal blood enhanced with human
properties, if not the tastiest brew. Therefore, they avoided contact with their cousins
by lineage, who were flamboyant, messy, and preyed upon the weak and innocent.
Now it seemed the Carnomians had discovered another portal and begun a reign to
surpass the gluttonous demons they shunned.

Elicean fought once before to seal a portal leading to Mesopotamia and beyond,

not solely for the protection of those above but to keep his people from discovery.
Could he persuade the secret society to reassemble, once again, for the good of all?
They remained the strongest and most powerful of their kind and held powers as great
as the most ancient of vampyres.

They were ‘The Order of the Mist’.

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* * *

Sari awoke with his name on her lips and the feel of his body still implanted on

hers. “Elicean,” she addressed the empty room dimly lit by an indefinable source. It
was twelve-sided and very large with towering panels set in place to separate the
varying activities performed. There was a cooking area that looked to seat eight people,
a sleeping and sitting area, a separate room for cleansing and personal matters and a
cordoned off section that held many tombs along with a large, ornate table and a chair
with balls attached to its legs that allowed it to glide in all directions. Plush colorfully
woven rugs covered the floor and she wiggled her toes with pleasure at the luxurious
pile. The walls were inlaid with intricately sculpted animals, some familiar, and some
strange, interwoven into vines and vegetation. In all, it was beyond impressive,
heralding great wealth and technology beyond her comprehension.

But who was he, how could this place exist, and what did he want with her?
Why did he haunt her dreams, waking and sleeping?
And how could she explain the aching affinity she felt with him. She should

have expired from fear when she awoke; it would have been the natural thing to do but
instead, when she became aware of his regard, she froze, taking in all of him, marveling
at his solid presence and startled a by the powerful reality of him. His alien eyes and
intimidating stare drew a shudder of trepidation that shook her entire frame, or was it
awareness? She did not consider him handsome, his features were overly large and
chiseled as if from granite, from his jagged long hair to his sculpted thighs and calves.
His skin tone reminded her of muted silver or pewter, a shade she had never before seen
on a human. She smiled; everything about him mimicked rock or metal. She wondered
if he would prove as hard on the inside. She supposed she would find out very soon.

She moved to the large door and swung it open with little difficulty. A winding

hallway stretched before her with muffled voices barely audible. She followed them
until they became comprehensible.

There was an argument taking place and one of the voices belonged to her

captor, though how she could be sure of this was a mystery.

“You are obviously mistaken. If any of our people discovered this supposed

portal, I would have been notified immediately and since you can offer no proof, I say
let’s drop the entire matter. In addition, the Carnomians are not under your jurisdiction
and none of your concern. We have lived in peace these many years, I see no reason to
change that now,” Morpheus pressed logically, leaning forward in his chair, as if to
examine Elicean with interest.

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“I agree with Morpheus, why are you suddenly interested in the surface

dwellers, they mean nothing to us. It was probably as Morpheus proposed; the work of
a band of vampyres or ghouls. What goes on above effects us in no monumental way,
besides, the Anasazi obviously taste particularly enticing,” Tellor, Elicean’s younger
brother, stated with a knowing grin. “Yes, Eli, her essence remains on your skin,
clothing and even your breath. Maybe you are angered that someone else beat you to
the feast.”

“She is not a feast, Tellor, but a human being just like you or me and should not

be summarily slaughtered like abandoned cattle. It is wrong, it is murder, and it will
stop!”

Elicean’s fury took the group by surprise but none more than himself and he

mentally shook himself before continuing. “It was not the work of the vampyre, Tellor,
there were at least thirty involved and we all know that vampyres don’t travel in packs
but are loners. And ghouls would just as soon tear each other apart as anything else so I
can’t envision them as the culprits. Only the utukku live in clans and choose to work
side by side in unity. It almost has to be one of us or another unknown clan of utukku,”
Elicean concluded.

Morpheus studied him carefully before replying in a calculated manner. The

Carnomian leader, Lydok, would take a dim view of interference from an upstart
Sumerian; he would show this philosophical, hypocritical, weak one the error of his
ways. “You failed to mention how you came to be on the surface, Elicean, at the exact
time of the so called feeding frenzy. Have you found your own portal above?”
Morpheus smirked at the others gathered. “It could , in fact, be you who is responsible
for the slaughter, and are conducting this meeting as a means to cover up your own
misdeeds. You even brought a piece of the evidence back, I understand.”

“She is no concern of yours Morpheus, even having your thoughts on her

offends me, and you don’t want to push in that direction. I make a very bad enemy,” he
whispered with deadly intent. “And as to how I arrived at the surface, I stumbled on
one of your tunnels, obviously.”

“Well, please enlighten us as to where this supposed tunnel is then and we will

see whose land it resides on,” Morpheus offered.

“It hardly signifies since it will be destroyed as soon as our engineers reach it.”
Morpheus tried to hide his reaction to this latest news. Could he have found one

of their exits? Not that it mattered greatly since they had numerous tunnels scattered
throughout and beyond Carnomia, and unauthorized trespassers were fair game for
termination. He smiled as he contemplated this. He would put guards on all the tunnels

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with orders to eliminate unwanted visitors on site. He looked up at Elicean who had
crossed the room to pick up an ornate box of bonbons filled with the spinal fluids of
grinoles, a rare delicacy, and proceeded to pass them around. “What are you prepared
to do if a few of our rogue family members have indeed found their way to the surface
and are sipping the available wildlife? Reapply the sanctions leveled on our people
more than one hundred years ago; reopen political channels to chastise our ways?
Surely, you would not consider war between our families over a meaningless, personal
whim,” the diplomat presented as he rose and brought a carafe of blooded-wine to the
table and proceeded to fill the glasses of the others and then himself. The Alterians kept
studiously silent, no doubt in an effort to see how the talks proceeded and then land on
the side of the victor. Morpheus smirked.

“And do you presume to tell us of where and what we can eat to keep ourselves

alive and fed? I’m sure Lydok would be interested to hear the laws you would set into
place for our people,” Morpheus finished vindictively.

Elicean waited until the diplomat set the carafe down before speaking his next

words. Why ruin a perfectly good carpet, after all. “I suppose we could call on The
Order of the Mist to investigate and handle things in an orderly fashion.” Elicean spoke
the words softly but all heard. A momentary pale settled over the group.

Morpheus’ bellowed laugh cracked the silence, sounding strained and over

zealous. “Do not pretend you believe that fairy tale, Elicean of Sumer. Everyone
knows they haven’t been heard from in over one hundred years, if they existed at all.
For though the stories bandied from this person to that, no one ever verified their
existence. It’s most likely a story told to children to keep them from over feeding. But
still, even to mention their name is in very bad form and could be considered a threat,
possibly even an act of war,” he finished.

“I assure you that The Order does exist, it’s just that no one they dealt with lived

to tell the tale.” Eli hesitated for a breath before continuing. “And war seems a rather
drastic alternative to a relatively minor dilemma. Merely forbid further visits to the
surface and seal the portal. We certainly don’t need the sustenance. All at this table are
aware no shortage of food exists for us. We cultivate and raise more than we can
consume. Why do you find it necessary to ascend and annihilate innocent humans who
haven’t a prayer of protecting themselves against you? You can’t even call it sport, for
where is the challenge? And surely no Carnomian still believes the old fairy tale that
surface dweller soul-steeling results in increased powers and immortality,” Elicean
drawled out lazily, watching Morpheus’s face turn a mottled scarlet, the same shade as
his over tunic. “And so I would put to you, Morpheus, the just; considering your food

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supply is plentiful and those above present no challenge in the chase and capture; why
do you defend the slaughtering of innocents right through to genocide,” Elicean
demanded, standing slowly, looming over the table.

“Why content ourselves with tasteless slop when delicacies are readily available;

as I am sure you would agree, for who stole a female Anasazi to sip at his leisure?
Forgive me if I have difficulty calculating the difference between us, brother.” Using
the word ‘brother’ did not denote shared parentage but served to remind the room of
their shared heritage and body chemistry.

Elicean sighed; Morpheus had made a disturbingly valid point.
Sari’s heart clenched in gut-wrenching betrayal. Even when the ‘demon men’

pursued her, she had not felt this bone chilling foreboding, for at least she knew they
were evil and wanted her dead. But what of Elicean, her self-proclaimed guardian, who
had sworn to keep her safe—safe for what purpose; to feed on her? Sip from her slowly
until she ceased to breathe? He was one of them and she was in his lair, his nest,
surrounded, trapped, and at the moment, paralyzed with fear and rage. Run, run, run
rang in her head like a mantra but her feet would not heed her. She would die right
here, a shared snack for the monsters if she did not get control and find her way out of
this den of devils.

Morpheus caught a movement outside the door, just a slight flutter of air, but

enough to make him sniff to catch the scent of fear and surface female mere feet from
him. He glanced across the room at Elicean, wondering if he too had smelled the small
morsel. Morpheus quickly calculated the benefits of eliminating her, and decided to
excuse himself before any were the wiser. Then their problem would be sucked dry,
making the small disagreement between them a mute one. The possibility that she
could identify him, further motivated him. He smiled, rose nonchalantly and yawned.
“If you will excuse me but for a moment, I have some small business to take care of,”
he explained modestly and began moving toward the exit just behind him. He was
through and had her in his grasp in less that the blink of an eye, then moved as fast as
his supernatural powers allowed, to an alcove a safe distance from the meeting room. It
seemed a shame to finish her off so quickly, after the trouble she had brought them, but
better fast than never.

The monster who had killed her family grinned lewdly back at her and her here-

to-fore frozen state melted then boiled into a haze of seething wrath so overwhelming
she struck, clawed, and bit the evil one before she knew she had moved. He roared with
enraged fury, moving to tear her head from her shoulders. Her death would be

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blessedly quick; but then she was flying like a rag doll, across the half-formed room
where she slammed against the wall and slid silently to the floor.

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CHAPTER THREE

Sarkinda groggily focused on a scene that both riveted and repelled her. Who

were these monstrous beings? The one who had bitten the head off her aunt and Elicean
flew at one another like falcons after the same prey. Blood splashed onto walls, floors
and everything else within the alcove. Both had elongated fangs and claws protruding
from each finger, and fury clung to them more securely than their skin. Killing beasts,
the name sprang clearly into mind recalling the stories that had been imparted to her as
a child. They had been given the name ‘vampyre’ and those that recounted the tales
swore they ascended directly from hell. Hell must be her new home but what could she
have done to attract such evil, what crime against man or creature had she committed, to
land her in this realm? Had his story been no more than a fable to gain her trust? To
lull her into complaisance in order to ‘sip her at his leisure’ until a husk like those she
had examined above?

She whimpered involuntarily at the thought, drawing her legs up to her body like

a ball and shutting her eyes tight. Her sound of distress so inflamed Elicean that he
pinned Morpheus to the wall using his thoughts alone—a supposed impossible feat, and
one hidden from those outside The Order until that moment. In the next instant, his
hand replaced his thoughts at his combatant’s throat, hoping that none had noticed in
the lightening speed commotion. Elicean held Morpheus in place while he strove to
regain his breath in order to speak the words flooding his consciousness.

“I take this woman as my own and invoke the ancient rite of claiming. From

this day forward any who approach her in aggression, concede their own life,” he stated
in the ancient language. Then, releasing Morpheus from the wall, letting him fall in a
heap at his feet, added his own promise. “Touch her, brother, and I will consider it an
act of war between our families and I promise you personally, that you will not
survive.”

“You rampaging fool, the ritual has two parts and is not binding until both

parties swear the same oath.” Morpheus croaked, holding his throat. “And by the look
of your proposed mate, those words do not look to be bursting from her succulent lips.”
Morpheus stood slowly, licking the blood and fluids from his fingers, hands and arms

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slurping with unabashed gusto all the while eyeing Sari; an unholy light swirling in their
evil depths.

Sari realized some sort of ceremony to be in progress from the cadence of

unfamiliar words, the uneasiness of those now crowding the chamber, and posturing by
Elicean and the evildoer. She also knew it involved her, possibly who would have her
at the next mealtime. Somehow though, she didn’t believe that Elicean, after saving her
earlier that morning and fighting the horrible battle she just witnessed, had her demise
in mind. He turned to her, extending his hand and she stared at it, not sure if his touch
would spell her eventual demise. She replayed the many scenes from her visions of him
watching over her, his smiles and warm inviting eyes and her reaction to the protective
physiognomy so clear in his eyes and every line of his face. Trusting in her visions, she
sent a questioning glance his way. At his now strained gaze, she made her decision.
Brushing herself off and climbing to her feet, she crossed the room to Elicean and took
his warm encompassing hand in both of hers.

He rewarded her with a cautious smile that revealed white teeth and a dimple

below his right cheek but more amazing, was the admiration and glint of humor clear in
his glowing eyes. He pulled her close to him and bent to whisper in her ear. “If any
address you, answer one word only—‘drunazzi’. You understand?” At her nod, he
winked and leaned in for another message, she thought, but instead he softly kissed the
place just in front of her right ear. A shy smile lit her face and she made to repeat the
word, but his other hand quickly covered her mouth. Instead of revulsion or surprise at
his sudden move, she covered his hand with hers and grinned.

Jolted to his very soul, he turned a challenging nod at the assembly, caught

staring unbelievingly at their obvious rapport.

Sari watched as an elder moved forward and bit out a jumble of unintelligible

phrases, at the end of which she succinctly spoke ‘drunazzi’. The evildoer cast a
malevolent glint her way, causing a chill to slowly snake down her spine, she moved
closer into Elicean not breaking eye contact, and then he was gone almost faster than
her eyes could track. In the next instant, she was lifted and whisked from the room
back to Elicean’s chambers.

Sari found herself alone once more with the large, intimidating form of her

savior and at a loss as to how to proceed. Her body began to quake, after she’d been
calm through the entire ceremony and the horrible confrontation before. Now that the
danger had passed, however, her body’s reaction took hold. She gripped her sides in an
effort to hide the tremors passing through her.

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Elicean observed Sarkinda unobtrusively from across the room. If she shook

any harder, she might vibrate a hole in the wall she leaned against, and it was probably
the only thing holding her up. He knew Sarkinda’s emotional and physical stamina
drew to an end—her bodies’ reaction to almost being killed twice in one day. He
wondered if he would have held up so well. He smiled ruefully at the thought. She
was, most likely, still frightened half to death but refused to show it. He couldn’t let it
continue, she could harm herself with so much negative energy building inside her with
nowhere to escape. She needed to calm down, and she needed to be held. By him. But
just how was he to accomplish that?

“Sarkinda, come here,” he commanded softly. She jumped as if prodded with a

hot poker. Elicean sighed. “Sweet one, please trust me, I have not harmed you
yet…Sarkinda you will look at me this instant.”

Nothing. He used his other senses to monitor her and realized she couldn’t

move; her muscles had frozen. “Curse it woman, stop it,” he ordered, uselessly, all
ready at her side. “Try to relax, sweetheart, I’m going to lift you up and get you into
bed, and yes, I will lie with you.”

Elicean carried her rigid body to the bed and lowered them into it. He

surrounded her from shoulder to thigh, slowly caressing her arms, shoulders, belly and
thighs in an effort to get her muscles to relax. She’d be sore on the morrow. He spoke
softly of his childhood and the scrapes he and his brothers constantly precipitated.
When she calmed slightly, he rose and brought her a draught to make her sleep.
Groggily she admitted, “I panicked and couldn’t stop it. It took over.”

“Shh, I understand. You are the bravest person I know and should be very

proud of yourself. But, you don’t have to be brave any more tonight. Just let me hold
and take care of you. I promise you are safe, Sari, and I’m sorry for everything that’s
happened.”

“S’not your fault; go to sleep, now.”
Eli smiled. She obviously grew tired of hearing him talk. He turned on his side,

facing her then rolled her until they lay spoon fashion. He pulled her to him until
nothing separated them, almost overcome by the contact; it had been a long day.

Sarkinda woke alone, thank the Gods. She made to get out of the bed and

looked down, stunned at her attire. Gone was her old worn shift and in its place a
turquoise tightly woven gown that hugged to her curves and felt like water on her skin.
She ran to the facilities to glimpse herself and nearly cried. Not since leaving her
Grandmother had she seen anything so fine.

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She used the brush by the sink and stroked her hair until it shone. Another long

since used luxury. She had left her former home with nothing but a leather shift, a
primitive comb, and some food. She took care of her toilet and returned to the main
room feeling more human than in months. He’d left food and drink for her and she fell
on it, ravenous. When sated, she marveled at her naiveté. Had she lost what little sense
remained, trusting him to such a degree—a creature not human but in the image of one?
A being possessed of a compelling magnetism that had her reaching for him with her
eyes even as her common sense warned her away. A creature who made her feel like no
other with his piercing, predatory gaze that tracked her every move and spoke of
joining; conquering her woman’s shield and burying himself deeply within her; a place
none had ventured. He wanted her to reveal all her secrets, in body as well as spirit.
She ran her hands over the glorious gown and empty plates and sighed. She smiled
ruefully to herself. Obviously it didn’t take much, to get her to lower her defenses
where he was concerned.

As a healer, she’d been much sought after for her skills; not her person. She had

been held apart—not shunned and not accepted. Her heritage proclaimed her
unsuitable, an outsider trusted with their wounds but not their friendship. It mattered
little to Sari, others would always find a way to set her apart. She had her animal
friends. After her parents died, and before her grandmother sent for her, they were the
ones who protected and cared for her. They were all she needed. Her grandmother
treated her well but proved a stern taskmaster where her lessons and chores were
concerned.

Sari never had much interaction with people outside of healing until this man

invaded her waking and sleeping hours. In dreams he would speak with her. She
wondered once more if he knew of his place in her dreams or if he was aware she had
glimpsed him out of the corner of her eye.

Eli entered the room but had yet to speak, seemingly content with the silence.
She chanced a glance his way and confirmed that subtlety would never be

counted among his traits. He stared unabashedly, roving over her from the tips of her
fingers, up her arm to her freshly brushed hair flowing loosely down her back, and over
the beautiful gown hugging her woman’s parts, now warm and achy and swollen from
the attention of his gaze. Her knees felt weak and she longed to sit but feared what
might transpire if she did. What would he do with her now?

Perhaps he would approach and trap her within his muscular arms? She felt

unaccountably warm.

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Elicean watched Sari as she slowly made her way around his chambers, running

her fingers gently over the inlaid partitions and works of art throughout his domain.
Every soft touch acted like a caress on his body and every peek she cast his way
through lowered lashes fired his groin. But he could read her skittishness even as he
smelled her growing arousal. He understood her trepidation and timidity where he was
concerned but didn’t know how to dispel her awkwardness and put her at ease. Perhaps
the dress he had provided would help. He’d had very little to do with surface
dwellers…or virgins, choosing for the most part to ignore their existence—and now he
was shackled to one for all time. What had he been thinking, or rather which part of
him had been thinking? Still she was an exquisite creature that showed more bravado
than he had seen in any of her sex and most of his own, and was humbled by her trust in
him. Of course, were he to be honest with himself, what other choice had she if she
wanted to survive. And yet to understand the situation as well as she had continued to
amaze him. He eyed her speculatively, about to speak when she beat him to it.

“Thank you for the gown, Elicean, and the food. They are much appreciated.”
“You are my…consider it my pleasure, little one.”
“You gave me something to make me sleep.”
“Yes.” He wanted to apologize for his people, for himself and the entire

dilemma they found one another in. Instead, he asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Fine, thank you.” She sighed. “So, what did I agree to yesterday?” she asked

with a shy smile. “Though I understood the nuances of and facial expressions well
enough, I’m afraid the language was one not familiar to me.”

Elicean narrowed his eyes, studying her for an uncomfortable moment;

something about the cadence of her speech told of a more advanced civilization, not
unlike his own. But that surely was impossible. “You are very intelligent for a surface
dweller,” he commented softly, smiling inwardly as she bristled at the condescending
words.

“So you lump all those who dwell above you as unintelligent? Pardon me if I

ask who resides above whom—and who prove the more blessed with natural light from
the sun and soft illumination of the moon? We do not appear to be the ones burrowing
like moles into the darkness, cursed by the Gods to live below.”

Elicean threw back his head and laughed. She was magnificent! She believed

him cursed in Hell, possibly the devil, yet still challenged him while trapped in his lair.
Perhaps his lower head proved more intelligence than he had initially credited.

He swooped down on her before she could move a hair and landed on his

lounging chair with her seated across his lap. Her scurried antics to escape him only

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amused him further and fired an already primed pump. Attuned to her distress a
moment later, he calmed though did not free her from his grasp. His manhood,
exhibiting close to her level of discomfort, finally sobered him enough to speak.

“Sweet One, only the omnipotent one far above decrees who are blessed and

who cursed. This is our home, our world and it holds wonders equally as great as your
own.” He gently molded his hand to her cheek, turning it so they made close eye
contact. How to make her understand that the extermination of her people was not of
his design or any of his family, the Sumerians?

“You have evaded my question, Elicean Sumer, what did I agree to with the

solitary word drunazzi?”

“You must have overheard a great deal of our discussion.”
“Yes.”
He turned her full around, placing his hand on her knee, lifting it up and over his

lap until she faced him, front to front, his member almost kissing her womb’s opening.
He smiled, satisfied.

“It was our mating ceremony, my beautiful one. You belong to me.”
His fierce predatory grin slashed into Sari’s already teetering peace of mind.

She yelped and rolled backward off his lap, landing on the floor before him, legs
akimbo, her gaping mouth on a level with the growing spike at the juncture of his
thighs. “Our what?” Her woman’s place had been seared like a hot poker at the mere
graze of his hardening shaft across her center. She gulped, he was clearly delighted.

“Mating ceremony,” he repeated slowly. He moved gracefully to the edge of his

seat and landed with his knees on either side of her hips; she scooted back to avoid him
but only aligned their bodies perfectly. He pinned her thighs to chest and rubbed his
erection back and forth between the delicate valley of her labia, earning him a groan.
He watched in mesmerized fascination, the heaving of her breasts beneath the delicate
material and the rosy hue, rising from those generous mounds up the slender column of
her neck and into her cheeks. He groaned at the addictive scent of her blood, unable to
stop himself, he nuzzled the place above her collarbone and laved it tenderly before
covering her lips with his. She made to struggle but was quickly subdued and then
coaxed into responding. He did not telepathically command her, there was no need. At
his gentle insistence, her mouth opened slightly to admit his eager tongue. He matched
the stroking, sucking, and gorging on her mouth to the cadence of his body moving over
hers. Her whimpers this time strove to encourage him, to extinguish the inferno he had
lit inside her. Gratified by her response to him, he knew he could be inside her in
moments but feared that taking her too soon might breach her tenuous trust along with

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her womb and he had much to discuss. He would not, however, leave her in her current
state of sexual distress. While retaining the rhythm he had set into motion, he worked
her calf-length shift up her body, glorying in the fact it was the only layer of clothing
blocking her wet heat. He gently worked a finger around her entrance, then burrowed
into her, stretching her tight passage. He carefully pushed further in as Sari began
writhing under him, losing control of her body’s reactions. With two fingers now inside
her, he placed his thumb over her swollen nub and began to work her. She came for
him almost instantly, while he erupted into his suede leggings. Never had he lost
control in such an unmanly way and he groaned in embarrassment even while
tightening his hold on her, suddenly afraid she might dissolve into mist and float away
to a place he could not reach her. The shiver of foreboding fired his determination to
extract the truth of her origins. For though her heritage was now clear her background
remained a mystery, possibly a deadly one.

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CHAPTER FOUR

“How is she?” Tellor asked, ushering Elicean into his chambers. “You have not

lost your talent for stirring up a hornets nest, my brother, I believe our days of peace are
at an end.”

“She fares well, I put a sleep suggestion on her in order to fill you in on what

I’ve learned. There was more than just the taste of Sarkinda motivating Morpheus in
his haste to drain her,” Elicean stated tiredly. He sprawled across the sofa in Tellor’s
living quarters, bracing himself for what was to come, what they once more must put
into motion. Some days he felt every one of his three hundred plus years, especially
since the Carnomian discovery of the first surface portal one hundred years past. Tellor
poured them both a heady blend of blooded brandy before returning and settling in the
chair beside his long time companion.

“What did you learn?”
“In the last fifty years the Anasazi have been hunted and massacred to

extinction,” he began without preamble. He held up his hand in an effort to halt
Tellor’s next words until he finished. “Not just the lands above the discovered portal
but an area covering close to one fifth of the continent, we’re talking countless
innocents devoured and an entire culture with it. The Carnomians must have several
portals we overlooked and now it is too late for these people.

“How could your Danzii possibly know this? Earth dwellers are not civilized

enough to communicate at such a distance and won’t be for centuries to come. Surely,
her perceptions are skewed by her primitive existence--” Tellor stopped speaking at
Elicean’s lifted brow and long suffering gaze. Could his brother be so taken with his
little surface dweller he had lost all objectivity where she was concerned? Logic
demanded otherwise.

“She is no ordinary surface dweller, she will not tell me about her people or

where they reside except to say she came from a tall ridge of mountains far from this
area to be a healer to her aunt’s people. On her journey past each village and pueblo,
she found deserted cliff dwellings haunted with brutality and untold violence. The
Spirit Lifters, though supposedly concerned solely with the last remaining drops of

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essence to achieve increased power, left half eaten and drained remains scattered from
hillside to plain farther than many days travel. Almost as if a feeding frenzy had taken
over all good sense and logic.”

“Some of their cult are more devote than others, no doubt,” Tellor answered.

The two fell silent, contemplating such blatant, senseless carnage before Tellor shook
his head in disbelief. “She seems so innocent, so untouched,” he whispered. “To have
witnessed such inhumanity would be enough to crush any man’s spirit.”

“Cease, Tellor, I can’t bear to think about what brought her to me. And how

ashamed I am on our behalf. We should have kept better watch, been more diligent.”

“There seemed no need to remain above after the closing of the portal. We can’t

be responsible for shielding surface dwellers from everything that goes bump in the
night. T’would be impossible.” Tellor looked dumbstruck before uttering his next
words. “You say she saw torn carcasses but a lack of blood?”

“Yes, and your conclusion?”
“What if the Spirit Lifters aren’t alone or not responsible at all? What if they

have somehow partnered with the vampyre or ghoul? It would explain a great deal,” he
mused aloud.

Elicean stood, crossed the room to grab the bottle of the deep brownish liquor

then filled himself and Tellor’s snifters before beginning to pace.

“I was hoping for another conclusion, any one but that. Gods, what a mess!

They may even have found the portals for the Lifters, but why? How could it benefit
them? Less food for one and more notoriety, making them targets of the surface
dwellers once again, causing them to be hunted and staked through the heart in their
sleep. No, Tellor, it makes no sense.”

“Well it certainly would explain the differing methods of killing. The Ghouls

like to tear and rend body parts from the carcass before eating, while the vampyre is
solely concerned with the blood. So the ghouls eat, the vampyre drinks—“

“And we drain all bodily fluids leaving only a husk behind,” Elicean growled

deceptively soft. “Who are the worst monsters?”

“Come, Elicean, enough talk. We must visit the surface to see just what

transpired before anyone can erase the evidence.”

* * *

“Uh, Morpheus, are you sure this is the only option left? Maybe we could try a

few villages further north into the mountains that’s where we found Sriver and he has
the power to shape shift. Perhaps a surface dweller he fed off gave him the power, or
maybe we can just fed off him…”

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“Lydok, sometimes I marvel at your stupidity. Sriver was banished from his

family far from here who all had the ability to shift, but no other powers of note. His
strength and speed are no greater than ours and we have the talent of telekinetics, which
they, apparently, do not. Depending on origin, we all probably have different talents,
but none compare to Elicean’s. I want his power and more, and will have it.”

“But are you sure about the Sumerian?” Lydok persisted. “You were taken by

surprise and everything happened so fast, maybe your recollections are not accurate. I
have never heard of a talent such as that.”

“I know what I felt. Power, immense power flowing from him. He pinned me

to that wall with his thoughts alone and I felt my body self-combusting, I’m still not
right. My food won’t stay down, I’m dizzy, and my motor control is off. No, his is the
blood we must have; I’m sure of it. It will not only heal the damage to my body but
make me the most powerful of the utukku and even vampyre; after I get rid of him, that
is…and his family, of course. Where did he find the immortality elixir? I have never
seen special food or unusual surface dwellers hanging about. Except the one he
claimed--” Could it be, he wondered? Could it be that simple? Morpheus had smelled
her blood on Elicean’s tongue; maybe he’d been drinking from her for some time. It
would explain how he’d arrived in time to save her. And she looks nothing like the rest
of her kinsmen. She is light to their dark. And when he grabbed her, he thought he felt
a strange energy. He’d give it additional thought. They would steal them both, just in
case.

* * *

Sari felt wonderful. Though unaware of how long she slept, she did know that

for the first time in many harvests, she slept in peace, without reliving the horror now
intricately entwined with her being. She sat up and stretched, spying some fruit, liquid
and food she couldn’t identify, waiting for her on the table next to the bed. She dove on
it as if she hadn’t tasted food for days, and supposed it would stay the same, until she
got over the slow starvation she’d endured for months. The food supply had become so
scarce it was more important for the young ones still growing…who would grow no
more. Only a fool would believe they could change destiny. No matter how painful,
when the gods decreed it, you traveled to the next realm. She sat down and
contemplated what the gods might have in store for her. At least her belly would be
full.

When fully sated Sarkinda began to inspect her surroundings with more care.

She had not been able to concentrate with Elicean’s stare, tracking her every move, like
Rasir about to pounce on a particularly plump rabbit. She noticed a compelling hand-

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carved mural mostly hidden by a panel and decided to investigate. It depicted a
mountain cub with the same look as Rasir playing with a slight girl with long flowing
hair, wearing the same shift that she had worn above. How could it be? She touched
the image, tracing the cougar with the tip of her index finger before moving on to the
next mural carved into the wall. She stilled, her face blanched of all color. There in the
very center was a symbol she knew very well, and cupped the underside of her left
breast as if to shield it. No one had ever seen that mark—no one. She approached the
wall like a sleepwalker, putting her hand out to touch its center when the entire wall
moved to reveal an opening. Sari passed through greeted by a lovelier sight than a
mountain of food. It was a grotto with a hot spring as large as a small pond. She shed
her shift in one motion leaving her completely naked and waded into the pool. The
warm water felt wondrous on her skin. Magical and relaxing. After a long languid
swim stretching and exercising her muscles and tendons, she laid half in and half out of
the water letting it flow over her like a gentle touch, wanting it to be his touch.
Elicean’s. Why did she feel this magnetic connection pulling her, binding her to him
when most likely he embodied a demon worse than any she could imagine—but he felt
so natural and right, how could that be? Sari fell into a hazy light slumber.

That is how Elicean found her a short while later after initially panicking at her

disappearance. She had crawled inside his heart and he realized a rightness totally new
to his experience. His gaze traced every inch of her from the way her damp tendrils
curled around clinging lovingly to her melon-sized breasts to her tiny, precious toes.
The Gods and Fates had delivered his one mate, his other half in this fey, innocent,
siren.

His manhood had grown unbearably heavy with his spying. The time had

arrived to make her wholly his.

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CHAPTER FIVE

He envied the water sluicing over every part of her and chose to emulate it. He

thought his clothes away then glided into the hot spring, wading until he could reach out
and caress her feet, melting into the gently lapping waves. In liquid form, he glided
over her, licking her breasts, sluicing down her abdomen and into the chasm between
her thighs to the folds of her woman’s entrance. He massaged her with the force of the
ripples, setting a cadence of mating. She groaned in her sleep, moving restlessly and
spreading her legs, giving him further access to her nether lips. He worked his way into
her passage, filling her as far as the barrier to her maidenhead allowed and created a
small whirlpool within her, churning, swirling, and gently slapping the tight walls of her
passage until they began to contract, telling him her release grew near. He knew the
minute she came awake for instead of pulling away from the water she began rocking
and straining. She moaned helplessly arching, every nerve ending hypersensitive and
alert. Part of him surrounded her pebble hard clitoris and massaged it then suctioned it
forcefully. She screamed her climax, her body jerking uncontrollably as she moaned
his name. Elicean rushed out of her and solidified to human form over her, spreading
her legs further apart to make room for his much larger one as he glided up and over
her, feeling skin on skin, covering her completely, His rock hard erection straining
against her thigh. Sari gasped in surprise, her now sapphire eyes fully dilated from her
orgasm.

A rosy hue began to infuse her breasts, working its way up the column of her

throat to her high cheekbones. Elicean knew she felt embarrassed and vulnerable,
knowing he witnessed her release and her carnal reaction to it. His grin slashed across
his face delineating his dimple.

Sarkinda was mortified. She didn’t know precisely what had occurred or how

but she did know it was sexual and almost certainly caused by the fully aroused man on
top of her. Could one of his powers include controlling water? She moaned out-loud,
focusing now on his fiercely triumphant, glowing copper orbs while tears of shame
welled in her own.

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“No,” he burst out, the staccato plea echoing repeatedly throughout the large

cavern. “No,” he insisted more calmly. “There is no shame, what you felt was
beautiful to me, you are beautiful to me. You gave me a gift more precious than the
breeze whispering through the trees, as precious as the gift of creation,” he confessed,
letting her see his sincerity and concern. “You are mine, sweet Sari, as surely as the sun
rises and the seasons change. It is my duty to care for you, to see to your pleasure, your
happiness and fulfillment, to make you my woman and bond with you so deeply our
souls become one. I will never let harm come to you by my actions or others. I am
your safe haven, sweet one, your home.”

Sarkinda marveled at his words and compelling openness…and felt wholly

inadequate to respond. When she looked upon, touched, or even thought of him, her
heart raced, her breasts felt heavy and sensitive and her lower abdomen tingled
wantonly. It had been consuming enough when he stayed inside her dreams, but to
have his solid presence pressing his body onto hers, to be engulfed by his scent and hear
the timber of his low rumbling voice vibrating within her, proved too overwhelming for
her newly awakened passions. She felt awkward, and tongue-tied, and unequal to what
he required of her.

“My haven, my home, you say, but what makes up my abode? Be it vampyre,

or some other monster, where does my soul reside, Elicean, I must have the truth. I
must have your trust just as you have mine for without it the binding you say exists
between us is fatally flawed.”

Elicean sighed wearily. He had hoped to avoid this conversation until a later

time, after he had bound her to him by sharing their body and blood the required three
times to activate “The Triangle of Life”. Only then would the ritual be complete. Only
then would she flow in his veins and throughout his body and be bound so completely
that separation would be unbearable for them both.

“I have explained this all before, and yet have not secured your trust, it seems.

We are an ancient race, inhabiting this planet since the dawn of time. My clan, the
Sumer took their name from ancient Mesopotamia. Similar to humans, we are but a
branch of a mighty tree and have many cousins, as do you.”

“I don’t understand, my family is small and to my knowledge, I have no

cousins,” Sarkinda replied.

“You speak literally while I speak philosophically. By cousin, I mean similar

species or races. From every region, continent and land their exists your fellow homo
sapiens be he black, red or white, but you are all similar physiologically. My people are
another species or entity. We have the vampyre, the ekimmu, the selkie and many

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others covering this globe. Most have differing powers and looks, but all sprouted from
the same tree and all have powers beyond scope and imagination--”

Sarkinda’s eyes stared at him incredulously and emitted a strangled ‘Oh’. “You

are not vampyre, you are one of “The Others” my grandmother described,” she accused,
breathlessly, rolling him over with the strength and agility of one much larger than
herself. She now straddled him, her small hands grabbing his chest just above his
nipples, while her mound cradled his growing erection. He felt equally cursed and
blessed, she obviously had no notion of the agony she perpetuated. A tremor ripped
through him and he groaned deep in his throat. She would kill him with her innocence.
Then her words registered at the same time as the pebble-sized mark on the underside of
her left breast, now visible at his new vantage point. He rolled, pinning her under him
once again. He drew up onto his elbows and then cupped his right hand over her left
breast, noting it fit his hand perfectly, then he lifted it, examining the distinctive symbol
marring her white creamy skin. How had it gone unnoticed? It was exactly as he
feared. A right crescent moon circled with a willow branch. Only one sect of humans
carried the mark and even among them it was rare, unless…

“How did you receive this mark,” he compelled her with a voice she could not

deny.

“I was born with it. As a babe it was a mere speck, I am told, but as I grew and

my skin stretched it formed into what you see. I was told never to show it or tell anyone
of its existence. It is the brand of sorcery, and any who looked upon it might kill me,
burn me alive.” During her confession, her skin had become dotted with perspiration
and she began to tremble.

“What you were told is true, some would seek to burn you while others--” Dare

he tell her? Would she flee him in terror? His supposition had been correct and he
needed to get her away—far away from the Spirit Lifters. Just the name infuriated him
for it could be taken to mean to lift or raise the spirit to a more holy plain instead of
stealing it without knowledge or permission. No matter how they endeavored to cloak
their evil actions, the fact is they were murderers. Furthermore, no one but the Gods
above or the one in hell could claim a soul, which led him back to the innocent woman
of light before him. He did not deserve her but he was all she had and he would protect
her from the evildoers. “You must trust me, Sari. Only me, do you understand? You
are in terrible peril. Some who reside below would steal your blood and fluids and
become an even larger threat simply by injecting a drop of your essence.” As he went
on to explain about the Spirit Lifters and their warped philosophies, her eyes grew like
saucers and she turned ghostly white. Clearly, he was frightening her beyond measure,

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but it could not be helped. He needed to complete the ritual immediately but the fastest
was three revolutions or surface days. He would take her away until it was complete
and could protect her, but first—

He stood bringing Sarkinda with him then gently dried her with the cloth

hanging on the wall behind them. She remained still for his ministrations and
afterwards as he quickly dried himself. He drew her out of the cave to his chambers and
his bed.

“Sari,” he murmured, as he laid down and pulled her to him, “my intention was

not to paralyze you with fear. I will not allow anyone or thing to harm you. You are
safe, my own. You must let me take care of you,” he rasped, moving his lips across
hers repeatedly until she sighed, giving him the entrance he desired. He melded his
mouth with hers, thrusting his tongue in her hot, wet cavity, learning her taste, emitting
a moan when her tongue entwined with his. She responded to him with no telepathic
suggestion and it made him even hungrier for her. He cupped her branded breast,
molding it until he felt her nipple then rolled it between his thumb and index finger
firmly, emitting a wordless plea. He suckled her right breast, laving and kissing it
before licking a trail to her navel, circling, and delving into it. He then took his right
hand and placed it on her mound. She whimpered and mewled. He put first his index
finger inside her slick passage and then two fingers, delving as deep as possible without
perforating her maidenhead. She began to buck and move with the rhythm he started.
She was getting close, so he pressed his thumb on the hard bud between her folds before
replacing it with his mouth. He suckled her hard and then nipped her lightly with his
teeth and she bowed almost off the bed with her climax. Elicean sucked her juices until
she quieted the kissed his way back up her now shimmering body. He prayed he could
give her pleasure before he exploded inside her. He fought for control, knowing he
needed to go slow.

“Tell me you want me, Sari. I know I shouldn’t give you the choice but I find it

more important to hear the words of your surrender.”

“Elicean, don’t stop. I want you inside me, please.”
Elicean eased into her tight moist channel and halted an inch inside of her. He

noticeably trembled with the effort to keep his body in check. He didn’t want to hurt
her but knew it could not be helped. He took a deep, bracing breath and breeched her,
burying himself deep within her. She cried out, holding on to his upper arms tightly and
biting down on his shoulder, causing him to grunt at the combination of pleasure and
pain. He waited once again until he could feel her relax and release the biting grip she
had on him. She began a tentative rocking motion beneath him and his last morsel of

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control fled. He began pumping into her faster and harder, going deeper and deeper
until he felt he reached the very core of her. She was his and very soon, the first part of
the taking would be complete. He was in a frenzy now, the utukku taking full rein over
him. His fangs grew and sharpened along with his fingernails. He would have to take
extra care in how he touched her. He was in agonizing pleasure as a growl began low in
his belly getting louder and louder until it burst out of him even as he exploded his seed
into her and then sunk his fangs into the base of her neck and drank his fill. Her unique
taste, once again, euphoric and addictive. As he continued to feed on her, he felt her
arms fall away, her breathing grow shallow and her heart sputter and trip. He tore
himself off her panting at the rush still raging through him. He stared in horror at the
white, translucent pallor of her skin. Gods, what had he done? He should have been
able to control himself not get lost in the essence of her until madness overtook him.

Quickly he slit open a place above his heart. Blood surged from the wound. He

leaned over his mate, lifted her head, then bade her to drink, holding her head to his
chest. At first, she showed no sign of movement but then responded to his command.
She opened her mouth and began to drink, gaining strength with each swallow. After a
few moments, she stopped and slumped, unconscious. Had she taken enough or was
she dying? He ordered her to drink again but to no avail. He checked her heart; it
remained weak and unsteady. He began telepathically matching her heartbeat to his.
He lost track of how long they remained in trance but finally he felt her heart growing
stronger and beating steadily on its own. Elicean felt drained and replete at the same
time. He lay down beside her, locking her to him with his thigh and heavy forearm, and
fell into an exhausted sleep.

Sari awoke fighting for air. She felt groggy, almost as if her mind warred with

her body for escape. She couldn’t move or scream. Something held her in its grip.
Something evil and it was draining her will to fight. If she could just move a finger,
even a muscle maybe the hold would loosen. Elicean, still lying close beside her, could
not be warned of her danger. At the thought, he came awake somehow knowing of her
predicament. He ran his hands down her body, tracing the thing wrapped around her.
A black and brown striped serpent had her in a vice like grip imprisoning her arms
down to her thighs. Its fangs were sunk deep into her right leg. If he tried to pull it off
her, the powerful jaw and fangs could do irreparable harm, possibly ripping out part of
her thigh muscle. His only choice appeared to be dissolving and interpose himself
between Sarkinda and the mouth of the snake, then he could expand, forcing it to
dislodge. Then he’d destroy it with every ounce of unleashed fury coursing through his
veins.

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“Don’t struggle when its grip loosens, my love. What I do will be very

dangerous to us both if you do.” His image began to fade to liquid and Sari closed her
eyes, willing herself not to panic when every instinct demanded the reverse.

Elicean made himself into a thin barrier impossible to see with the naked eye

and began insinuating himself between Sarkinda and the serpent. He wondered at its
function. Was it draining her of blood or poisoning her with venom? He would soon
have the answer. He oozed between the fangs planted in her, cutting the connection
between them, then entered the fangs. Laquade root, it was giving her the sap from the
only potentially deadly substance known to their kind. Small amounts caused coma like
sleep, reducing their heart rate to undetectable degrees, a greater amount would kill a
normal utukku. Which he was not but his enemies wouldn’t know that. They would
know that there hadn’t been sufficient time to work the change on Sarkinda so she
would be safe from the lethal effects of the sap. The only potential danger would have
been to him. But what comprised this reptile wrapped around his mate, it was not
Carnomian for they did not have the power to change. Elicean began to take form
exploding the head of the snake like creature. A scream of agony rent the night as the
thing took its true form. It had the look of an utukku but exploded almost instantly. A
flash of doubt crossed Elicean’s mind but logic soon took its place. A Carnomian, even
for a short time, could not tolerate Laquade; they’d slip into a deep sleep in minutes, as
would any utukku without the benefit of Lyfia blood. But he was all ready fitting the
pieces together. Laquade did not affect the vampyre. Moreover, a vampyre could
shape shift. But why would a vampyre want to drug or kill him and Sarkinda? His
conversation with his brother wedged into his mind. It gave weight to the theory of the
Carnomians working with an ally. His internal voice kept inserting that there could be
no motive for a band of vampyres to assist the Carnomians. It made no sense and if it
made no sense then his logic must be flawed. He found himself more confused than
ever.

“How do you feel, Sari?” Elicean asked lying beside her once more in human

form.

“Not well. My stomach lurches and my head wants to explode…and I’m going

to be sick,” she informed him, running for the facilities and emptying the contents of
her stomach into the bowl. Elicean felt helpless, there was nothing he could do to cure
her, the poison had to work its way through her system. He could only erase the
memory of the twisted being from her mind and implant the suggestion of a passing
virus but he could not shield her from the closing dangers. It was essential for her to be

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on her guard. The memory would stand. He could hear her retch once more. It would
be another long night.

* * *

“Have we heard anything? Was our friend successful?”
“He carried more than a sufficient amount of Laquade when he slithered out of

here. I’m sure he delivered the required dose of coma draught to fell the Sumerian giant
and most likely his mate. Even believing a supposed vampyre invaded his lair; he
couldn’t know his surface dweller had been injected with enough of serum to make him
sleep for a week after only one sip from her. Moreover, since it takes three days for the
bonding and transference of blood to accomplish the turning, he’ll be feeding from our
little time bomb at least once more. When we kidnap him and his mate and feed off
them, after administering the antidote, we should be ready for the rest of the family.”

“Sometimes I do believe you are brilliant, cousin. When they realize Elicean

and his mate are missing and go looking for clues, they will conclude it was a vampyre.
Thinking to leave a snake trail behind will surely throw them off the track. And after all
the trouble we went to in making our forays outside look like vampyres and ghouls they
won’t even be surprised.”

“Yes, we left a trail a child could track leading straight to the vampyre den you

tripped across. If they don’t attack outright they most certainly will amass for a long
talk.”

“What will happen when they find out the vampyre is not to blame?”
“I’m sure they won’t believe him.”
“What if the vampyre sees the tracks we left and destroys them or follows them

right to us?”

“Oh, cease your prattle. It won’t come to that. We’ll lay a nice cozy trap, and

with my new powers and the element of surprise they won’t stand a chance.”

“I wonder if Sriver fell asleep from the Laquade, he should have made it back by

now.”

“Not very likely, in snake form the sleeping potion would have no affect. We’ll

wait for another hour and then figure he was caught and dealt with; I just hope it was
after he injected her. I just thought of something. It would almost be better if he was
caught, then he would see the shape change and convinced it was a vampyre.”

Morpheus was so pleased with himself that Lydok did not voice his own

concern. What if he identified the shape-changer as utukku before he was ‘dealt with’?

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CHAPTER SIX

A log had her pinned across her rib cage, once again hampering her breathing

and she struggled; finally rolling out from underneath it.

Taking in a huge, cleansing breath she gaped at the prone form of Elicean, softly

snoring, ruffling the hair that draped across his features, caught on the day old growth
of beard. Her cheeks turned a bright pink, remembering her less than dainty bouts of
vomiting, diarrhea, and sweats as he held her gently then coaxed her to sleep
afterwards. She searched for her gown, then realized it must still be in the bathing
cavern which was just as well because she intended to indulge in a long soak and don it
before facing her captor–savior–caregiver…“Ohhhhh,” she groaned aloud as her mind
tripped over the word ‘husband’. She scooted down then climbed over the footboard of
the bed and sprinted to the panel not wanting to wake her sleeping giant.

Her body relaxed and let go of some of its soreness as she sank to her shoulders

in the warm healing water, running her hands over her body and between her legs,
cleansing the combination of blood and mating fluids still in evidence from the night
before. She could already be carrying his child. She lost her footing and dunked herself
at the thought. Could their two species procreate? The answer to that literally lay in the
next room, if all he told her was true. What he made her feel with his touch filled her
with wonder. There had been no courtship or tentative touches and no long
conversations over time, which normally led to the activities the night before. No, he
had simply taken her, making her writhe and groan as a cat in heat. She in turn had
touched and explored every hard plane, sculpted muscle, and jutting pillar. It had felt
like the finest, softest, tanned doeskin over smooth granite and had grown and expanded
at her touch until she believed it would rend her in two when put into her woman’s
entrance. In truth, it had felt like it had done just that at first, and then when he lodged
in her to the hilt and began moving, the feeling changed into the most glorious friction,
feeding all her nerve endings, setting them on fire until she burst into the stars of the
night. And then afterward—nothing. Could she have fainted from the pleasure of it?
She searched for some memory, a sliver of remembrance but there existed nothing but a
black void.

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At a slight splash behind her, she quickly turned loosing her footing once again

and came up spurting to a vision of manhood greater than any God. A combination of
gloating satisfaction, carnal hunger, and hidden mystery lit his glowing copper eyes.
She studied them more closely, reaching beyond the visual revealing…uncertainty. She
gaped at the realization.

“Is that an expression of appreciation or horror, my love, I fear it is unclear.

Have a care for my easily bruised ego after our first night of lovemaking.” Elicean
dipped his head in feigned uncertainty and lightly kicked, causing a slight splash.

Sari lost all shyness at the ridiculous spectacle before her and let loose a none

too soft ripple of giggles.

“You wound me, Sari. Never laugh at the sight of your naked mate, fully

aroused and twitching in greeting at the sight of you.” Sari escalated into laughter at his
dejected expression and disappeared under water, making her way to him, grabbing him
by the ankles and tipping his towering mass back into the six-foot depths. She could
hear his shout of surprise underneath the water. She surfaced to emit enraptured
laughter with the carefree delight of a child. When Elicean surfaced, she splashed his
face catching him unaware once more.

“I’ll show you, imp,” he promised. He dissolved instantly leaving her, thrashing

around trying to locate him. Suddenly water swirled around her faster and stronger
until it lifted her right out of the water, up and over the deepest part of the pond then
dissipated into air, plunging her down into the deep blue depths. She squeaked in
surprise before disappearing with a splash. Before she could swim to the surface, strong
arms enfolded her shooting them both to the surface where he continued upward,
moving out and over the water, landing them safely at the grottos’ edge.

Sari trembled at his solid length pressed firmly against hers. Elicean murmured

gravelly, “Did I frighten you, my love, it was not my intent.”

Warmed by his gentleness and overwhelmed by her response to him, she

blurted, “I love…umm the water.” Confusion momentarily swept through her before
she continued, “I was not frightened, I don’t think you could frighten me. Startle, yes,
frighten, no.” She glided her fingers into his black, silken mane, brushing it from his
eyes and off his forehead. “How do you do these wondrous things? I have never heard
of such even in the tales I was told as a child.”

Flabbergasted, Elicean merely stared at her for a moment. Any other earth

dweller and even most utukku would be horrified at his powers but Sari seemed to take
them in stride, un-intimidated by all that he was and could do. And why was that, he

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wondered. She had not spoken of the tales she had heard as a child except in the most
general of terms.

“And just what stories did you hear as a child, Sari, I would be interested in

what you were told.”

“Nothing of consequence,” she spurted, and then took a deep breath,

straightening her resolve and shoring up her courage. The time had come to reveal her
background, partly motivated by her growing concern for her grandmother, but mostly
because of an increasing desire to confide in Elicean and openly give him her trust. She
needed to seek out her only living relative to reassure herself of her safety. There was a
curious void whenever she reached out to her mentally and it filled her with dread. “My
grandmother is not dead, Elicean. She sent me to my aunt to be safe from a danger she
would not reveal. I was sworn to secrecy as to her existence and whereabouts but I’ve
grown worried for her safety. All of this,” she emphasized by waving her hand in the
air, “has me concerned. Will you take me to her, Elicean?”

Elicean, taken aback by her confession and what it revealed about their growing

bond, decided he could deny her nothing. They would go to her home and ensure the
safety of those she loved. Hopefully, it would take her far away from the Spirit Lifters
and give The Order more time to formulate a plan for their destruction. “I will take you
as soon as it can be arranged. I’m anxious to meet the woman who raised you. She
must be a very special woman.”

“Yes, she is. I miss her, she told such wondrous stories. One centered on a clan

of giant beings in human form called “The Others” and a dark time long ago when our
two colonies, hunted like rabid wolves came together. Some had been burned at the
stake when captured, others spiked through the heart. We forged a credo of protection
and bonding. A pact with The Others who had magical powers beyond imagining when
blended with our own--” Sari stuttered to an end, a question in her eyes.

“All that you were told is accurate but the truth goes much deeper. Our sect of

utukku are known to the Lyfia as The Others. When our blood mixes with one of the
Lyfia, it increases our power immeasurably—and future generations even more. Those
with mixed blood formed The Order of the Mist to protect surface dwellers but most
especially your people. As with any group or people, there are good, and as you have
witnessed first hand, there are depraved. And yes, we Sumerians have our evil ones.
Therefore, the power of Lyfia blood mixed with our own is held both sacred and secret.
There are many, I fear, who would take advantage of your people and so we will not
speak of this after today. We are powerful and blood drinkers like the vampyre but in

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addition have the capacity to drain a being of all bodily fluids, in some cases leaving no
more than a shell or even dust. Your bodies are fluid based making this possible.”

Sari flinched at his bald declaration. How could she not fear such a being, one

even more despicable than the vampyre, and why was he giving her this information? If
his goal was to frighten her, he had succeeded. Further, she had given herself to him.
She shuttered in reaction and regarded him from lowered lashes to find his gaze
devouring her with molten intensity. The blood fled from her features, leaving her
dizzy and deathly white. Had he taken her and used her for her blood? Sarkinda knew
he had taken her blood at least twice, what would he do with her when he had taken all
he wanted. But then, he had told her his mission was to protect such as she, so what
was she to conclude?

“Do not fear me, I find it is a torture I cannot endure. Fainting is second only to

fear so do not put me through that either,” he said only half kidding. He could already
feel the pull of the joining and blood exchange. The need turning to obsession to
protect and covet. What would the next feeding bring and could it be the reason for her
lack of overt fear of him? He shook her gently but his words must have penetrated her
fear for now she just studied him, waiting. He sighed. “Most of us, precious one, do
not find other humans desirable to feed on, for though we crave your fluid like no other,
the thought of feeding on a being so close to our own goes against our humanity. Some
of us, you already know, choose to defend surface dwellers from any who would harm
them, even our own brothers. Especially our own brothers. And I am not the first of
my kind to take one such as you to mate. In point of fact my grandfather did the same
and as you can see the result proved quite spectacular.” Slipping her an irresistible grin
expecting a laugh but when her gaze mirrored uncertainty, he paused, awaiting
judgment.

Sarkinda licked her lips and then asked the question she most dreaded. “What

will you do with me when you have all the blood you require?”

Elicean could not voice a denial for some moments so stunned was he at her

total misunderstanding of his intentions. Now was the time to tell her of the ritual,
blood bonding and turning her into the same as he, making them one for all eternity.
She looked more uncertain by the second. Tell her, tell her, tell her.

“Lovely Sarkinda. I love your name, you know, almost as much as the woman it

belongs to. We are bound for eternity, however long that is. My people mate for life
and when I spoke in the ancient tongue of my intentions and you answered, the ritual of
our bonding began and after another day will be complete. You belong to me for all
time as I belong to you. I didn’t mean to upset you, I thought you understood. I failed

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to finish telling the rest of the history of our people. You believed some of us were
cannibals and though I meant to correct your conclusion, the time did not present itself.
Every living being needs sustenance. Some survive on nuts, leaves, or berries and
others vegetables, fruits, and meats. The utukku need blood and the other fluids found
in animals…including humans.”

“To me that means you are cannibals for what is the difference between eating

humans or drinking them. You still kill them for food. I don’t understand why you go
after people when you said yourself, you also drink the fluids of animals. Your
practices are barbaric.”

How could he explain in a way to make her accept him, her new family, and

what he would make her? “Danzii, the drought you survived these past months are a
good example for what I must make you understand. When I rescued you, food in your
village was becoming dangerously scarce. Your harvest had failed and domestic and
wild game was non-existent. Your tribe survived on insects, reptiles and meager crops
that could be coaxed from the ground. You could survive on these things but the health
of your village was poor from a lack of healthy sustenance.” Elicean rose and began to
pace while running his hands through his hair, a sign of his agitation. Sarkinda
remained unnaturally still.

“It is the same for us. We can survive on animal fluids but not well. We have

experimented for generations to enhance animal fluids in order to eliminate the need for
human blood. It has met with marginal success especially when augmented with blood
exchanged with a mate or family member. Most of us have spurned taking fluids from
other humans and we don’t kill for the fluids we need but only take a small amount to
sustain us.

“Sari.” He paused. “The exchange of blood with a bonded mate can be a

intensely sensual experience in combination with lovemaking.” His voice lowered to a
rasp at the last sentence and his direct, burning gaze told her of his desire.

Sarkinda looked thoughtful and even a little curious. He inwardly let out a sigh

of relief. But he still hadn’t told her the rest; that was to say the worst. He’d turned into
a coward.

“Is that why you took blood from me, because it made you…feel good?”
Elicean chuckled at her understated words, came to her side, and stretched out

facing her. “It felt lifetimes better than good and I will be very content to spend all of
my days with you. Can you say the same, Sari?”

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“I don’t—” She paused, running her hand gently through the water before

continuing, “believe—” halting once more, “content would be the word I’d use. It
sounds rather bland, all things considered.”

Elicean rolled over on top of her pulling her hands above her head. He locked

them in place with one hand then began tickling her, a pastime he had never before
engaged in with a grown woman. He found it highly satisfying.

“You must stop this instant or I will perish by tickling, not blood taking.”
He stilled and grew serious. “I will cherish you so well you will never die. I

won’t allow it.” He devoured her lips endlessly before moving to her jaw line, the long
column of her throat, and on to her breasts.

Sarkinda panted as if she had run with the wind. “Eli, I didn’t mean—”
“I know. I have to love you now. Give yourself to me.” Elicean used no

finesse but drove into her with no foreplay. She was wet and ready for him. He rolled
over not severing their connection then grabbed her hips, demonstrating how to move
on him. He began raising his hips with each thrust grinding her down on him.
“Intensely sensual” he had described the act of taking blood. She discovered that she
wanted him to take hers. She wanted everything with him. To bring him passion, and
joy…and love.

Her orgasm crashed through her and she begged him to take what he needed.

He rolled her over onto her back and drove into her once, twice, and again and then held
her in place and bit the place at the base of her throat. Sarkinda groaned in pleasure and
pain as Elicean spilled his seed in her, then ruptured into ecstasy, once more.

When she collapsed into a swoon, he again sliced the place above his heart and

commanded her to drink.

Elicean became aware of a telepathic summons from his parents. They must

have returned from their journey with important news. He rose with Sari in his arms
and tucked her tenderly into his bed, with dawning realization that he need not worry
about taking too much blood from her. The ritual had righted his control. He floated to
the panel connecting his chambers to his parents; clothing himself with a thought,
mentally readying himself for the confrontation sure to come, and smiled at the thought.
Sari was his.

Within the first minute of entering his parent’s chambers, Elicean found himself

confused. He tried to follow the conversation but his parents had arrived with a visitor
in tow. A young, beautiful utukku from a faraway clan who kept sneaking glances at
him. “We followed the rumors across the expanse of land,” his father was explaining,
“over a great body of water to a mountainous region housing a family of utukku

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previously unknown to us. We were greeted with friendship and treated as honored
guests,” Elicean’s father, Nyle, said, smiling ruefully at the facetiousness of his words.

Elicean smiled in return. Though clannish, the utukku were not a sociable lot,

barely tolerating the families they shared land with. Unfamiliar visitors would be
looked upon with great suspicion and encouraged to depart and not return, if allowed to
depart at all. “Thank you, Fauna, for your kindness toward mine. I hope we make you
feel just as welcomed and forgive us if our entertaining skills are not up to your clan.
We get few visitors and even fewer friendly ones.”

“Your parents explained this to me, Elicean, I will not be offended at initial

meetings,” Fauna answered, shyly.

Elicean noticed her heightened color at the speaking of his name. She was a

pretty thing with coal black hair patterned with braids and spirals barely brushing her
shoulders. Matching coal eyes, though not large, slanted upward with arched brows,
giving her an exotic, sensuous appearance. She looked young and vulnerable, and
wondered that her family would release her into his parents care. What prompted such
trust? Why were his parents fairly beaming at the two of them? He did not like the
answer his brain transmitted.

“Father, we must speak. Much has occurred in your absence. If we may be

excused Mother, Fauna?” Though stated politely enough, Elicean noticed a shadow of
disapproval move over his father’s features.

“Trifling matters of business can wait, my son. Why don’t you show Fauna

around and introduce her to your friends then take her to your chambers and await
dinner?”

Had his father lost his mind? He could not be closeted with an unattached

female in his private quarters. It was not proper. She would be labeled and treated
without respect if it became known unless—

Elicean straightened as if prodded. “No, Father,” he said too loudly, eliciting

twin shocked expressions from his parents and a hurt one from their guest. Elicean
closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “Forgive my abruptness but this
business can’t wait,” Elicean insisted. If what he suspected was the case, the quicker he
clarified the situation the better for all involved. His parents both gauged his resolve
before his father tightly murmured an assent and headed for his office for privacy.

Sari came awake slowly, a half smile of contentment lighting her face. She

stretched languidly and brushed sunlit strands from her face and neck. She paused,
touching the place at the base of her neck. It felt tender as if from a particularly nasty
spider. She propped up on her elbows and gingerly looked around seeking to identify

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the offending bug and noticed a drop of blood on her beautiful sheath. Her gaze sought
the row of clothing neatly hung along the wall past the bed and padded over looking for
something suitable. She choose a well-worn, soft shirt that fell to her knees and
covered her arms to about three inches past her hands. She swiftly rolled up the sleeves
and made for the grotto. She paused at the entrance; hearing muffled disembodied
voices coming from the far wall. It seemed her hearing and sight were becoming more
acute and then smiled at the notion. No doubt, it resulted from becoming accustomed to
the dimly lit chamber and lack of the constant sounds of the wind and flowing life of the
earth above. Sari followed the voices until they became more distinct. One of the
voices was Elicean’s answering a female voice interrupted by the rumbling of another
male voice. They appeared to be arguing. Sari paused not wanting to ease drop but
wanting to be forewarned if the conversation concerned her. So far, Elicean had
protected her and invaded her body in a most intimate, erotic manner but what she knew
of their customs and her true situation could be stated in less than twelve words. She
decided to listen.

“What are you thinking? You insulted our guest and embarrassed your mother

with your rude behavior,” Nyle accused, his voice escalating with his words.

“When you hear what I have to say, you will understand; especially if what I

fear is confirmed. You know I can’t be alone with a single female of good breeding
without the benefit of stated intentions and certainly not one I have yet to know.”

“You will come to know her very well, as she will be your mate. We have

signed an alliance with Fauna’s people with the understanding that our two sects would
be joined through mating and since it is past time that you settled and have no love
interest, your mother and I felt the two of you would be well suited and almost certainly
find physical compatibility if not soul burning love. She is lovely, sweet, and
unspoiled. Moreover, we gave our word to treat her as the daughter she will become.”
Nyle paused at his son’s growing consternation and anger. Eli’s eyes fairly crackled
with suppressed fury and frustration; no doubt brisling at the thought of his choice being
taken from him. Well, Nyle believed his son would just have to get used to the fact. If
he himself had not found his true soul mate and been presented with Fauna, he would
have gone quietly, with a smile on his face. His son would soon realize his good
fortune. Caught up in his self-assurances, he at first did not register his son’s words.
Surely, he did not say he had all ready taken a mate, not without the approval of his
parents.

“Repeat yourself. I am sure I misunderstood.”

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Elicean was amused, for though he approached the age of an ancient, his father

would always be his father. It probably did not occur to him that Eli approached three
hundred years past the age of consent.

“I said, I found my lifemate and the mating ritual has begun. I apologize for not

seeking your approval but you were absent when circumstances forced my hand. She is
my chosen one, Father, and the bond is too strong to sever. It had become so even
before the ritual began.” Elicean spoke quietly, with conviction.

Nyle, who rarely raised his voice, blasted a string of curses, filling every crack

in the room. At the end of which a vase flew across the room, exploding into a million
shards, putting a period to his tirade.

Elicean merely raised a brow in response, fighting down a grin. The rare display

of temper amused rather than intimidated Elicean for it emulated Elicean’s own temper
as an adolescent. Nyle seemed nonplused at his display and not a little chagrined. He
sat down and ran his fingers through his hair, a trait passed on to his son.

“There is great unrest above, my son, some you have most certainly witnessed

but it is wide spread—a plague of destruction rolls over the land. Villages are being
destroyed; by what, we do not know, but it is more than the work of vampyre or ghoul
or even utukku. If we don’t discover this powerful enemy and destroy it, the surface
dwellers will rise up and hunt us down. The vampyre is particularly vulnerable since
they choose to live among humans and are unable to tolerate daylight. Further, if they
discover our underground and invade or worse, trap us in an inferno, many of us would
die. We all have vulnerabilities we do not wish discovered and implemented. We must
find the culprits and stop them…or destroy them. And so it follows, that allies at this
time are essential, and Fauna’s clan gives us added the assurance needed for protection
and continuance of our race.”

“Tell me what you have seen; we have been above to study the carnage after one

such attack before the evil ones could return to remove their evidence of terror. Tellor
and I believe it to be the work of the faction of Carnomians calling themselves ‘Spirit
Lifters’. After all, they have tried soul steeling before only to be caught by failing to
cover their foul deeds. We believe it possible they are making it look like the work of
the vampyre and ghoul to camouflage their evil intent.”

“Fauna’s people are convinced it is the work of the vampyre and ghoul but I

have spoken to an old…acquaintance and he assured me it is neither or any combination
thereof, but one of our own families of utukku responsible for the pillaging and killing
and then making it look like one of the others. It was difficult to convince Fauna’s
family of our innocence and win their trust and cooperation. That is why the alliance

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between our two families through bonding must proceed. We and our credibility are on
very shaky ground. And what if the Carnomians are responsible for this catastrophe?
We stopped them once before and sealed what we believed was the only portal, but if
this is true, there have to be many more. We will no longer be able to sequester
ourselves in this way. The Order of the Mist will have to be resurrected for all time and
we will need places to settle above. In addition, we will need more eyes than our family
can provide. We need Fauna’s people. The mating ritual stands as the only way to
accomplish this. Only in this way can the strength of both clans be as one. So you see
my son, you must turn from your little surface dweller and fix upon Fauna for the very
survival of our species.”

Lil Gibson

CHAPTER SEVEN

Sarkinda’s mind worked furiously on the countless ramifications now set into

motion—was this why her grandmother sent her away? Did she know Elicean would
come to save her and keep her safe among The Others? Though she vowed not to
disclose the whereabouts and secrets concerning her grandmother and their people, it
would now be imperative to do what she must, even leave the safety of The Others to
keep her grandmother and followers safe from the evil ones.

Sarkinda was torn as to how to accomplish this. Elicean said he wanted her trust

but how could she grant it knowing he was about to sever hers? She didn’t even care
that it was the right thing to do; in this, she was in no mood to be selfless. Their bond
was to be broken; what would become of her.

Sari shook her head. How was it she could hear their conversation clearly as if

in the same room? What magic had he worked on her? Her senses were becoming
sharper, her movements quicker, and eyesight keener. Was it coincidence or connection
through their lovemaking? She swallowed a sob, how could she separate from the
comfort and security of Elicean? He promised her a place in his heart and in his life.
Something no one had offered before. Whenever she neared him she felt the pure
rightness of their bonding. They fit on so many levels past the physical; it was soul
bleeding and healing at the same time. He was her other half, the most important part
that made her feel whole for the first time in her life; and now she’d be forced to give
him up for the good of the many. She had already given most of herself to that same
cause. After this, there would no longer be a Sari but merely a healer with nothing of
herself left. But what choice did she have, only the choice to make it harder or easier on
them both by leaving. It would be her final gift to one who had given her a brief
glimpse of nirvana.

“He’s right, you know.” A voice sounded softly behind her, his hand blocking

her muffled scream of surprise.

“Do not be afraid, I am Tellor, Elicean’s youngest brother, ally, and confidant.

If I remove my hand will you promise not to alert others to our presence?” At
Sarkinda’s nod, he gingerly removed his hand and stepped away.

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Sari turned and observed Elicean’s brother. He did not seem much younger than

Elicean. His coloring differed in that he was not as dark. His hair color resembled that
of a brown bear, his skin was much the same tone as the Anasazi, and his eyes matched
his hair color. He was however every bit as large and muscular as Elicean and
possessed a cold if not hostile demeanor. There was nothing soft or malleable about
him. He would make a very poor negotiator, Sari was sure, and a merciless warrior.
Sari shivered in response.

“Wh-what is he right about?” Sari asked warily.
“You do not belong with my brother or here among the utukku. You are part of

the problem and certainly hold no solutions. A great war is coming and the bonding of
the Sumerian and Boraki could be essential to our victory and survival. You would not
have Elicean forfeit his life and give up his place among his people for you. Surely,
you cannot be that selfish. It is true that your people have been killed but would you
see others of your kind meet the same fate? If this mating does not take place, it will be
seen as a breach of the agreement and all may fall because of it.”

Tellor towered over her with, hands on hips, doing an excellent job of

intimidation. Sarkinda willed herself not to quake under his threatening pose. What
exactly did he expect her to do? Disappear into some rabbit hole? Oh, wait, she’d all
ready done that. No one had asked her if she wanted to be here, or if this the path she
would have chosen. She longed for Elicean but that would not be possible for many
reasons.

“What would you suggest I do? My powers don’t include floating to the surface

or thinking myself home. By no choice of mine; all was stolen from me by the
massacre of my aunt’s tribe, the destruction of our homes, and the annihilation of my
world. Where would you have me go, Tellor? I am little more than a slave.” A slave
to her passions, Sarkinda acknowledged. But even if she wanted to leave Elicean,
which she did not, how could she? She felt bonded to him more solidly than a river to
its bed. He had invaded her dreams, then her life, her body, and finally her soul. He
was rooted so deeply into her, she doubted if death could sever them. Even if this
hadn’t been her choice from the start, it had become so. “I will leave Elicean when he
asks and not before, we are bound and there is naught any can do about it, including
you.”

Tellor did not want to show her just how wrong she was and almost smiled at

her bravery in standing up to one twice her size. She was a fine little warrior and in
another world, a good match for his brother but as things stood the path was set and she
would not be a part of it. Tellor knew only the first exchange of blood had been given

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for it took a full three days to make a utukku from a surface dweller and even then the
danger was great, for death claimed the human lacking Lyfia roots, or so he had been
schooled. Tellor wondered briefly if he should let the mating resume and hope she
would be among the many who died during initiation but the pain to his brother would
be too great. They needed his strength, determination, and all of his faculties if they
were to defeat their enemies, which lay in the same nest as they, most likely. It proved
yet another problem that would require all of Elicean’s talents.

“Look, since only one exchange of fluids has transpired the physical

ramifications should be minimal. You probably won’t even notice.” He hoped. “And
considering that thousands of deaths lay in the balance and possibly your ma...Elicean’s,
as well, you must think of all that will be spared with your sacrifice. You hold our
future in your hands. Does this make you happy, Sarkinda, to know that you wield that
much power? That you hold the lives of thousands in your grasp?”

Sarkinda blanched at his cruel attack. She had pledged to heal. Could Tellor be

right? She knew Elicean would never willingly let her go, did that mean she had to
choose for both of them for the greater good? She would decide all when she was alone
and could sort everything out, but first…”What did you mean about blood exchange,
there has been no such occurrence.”

“He didn’t tell you, did he? Part of the bonding ritual necessitates the exchange

of blood to turn you into one of us. It is dangerous and many times lethal, but essential
to life bonding. Have you not experienced fatigue or nausea or noticed a sharpening of
your senses?” Tellor barked out a laugh. “I can see from your expression that you
have.”

“You are wrong; Elicean would not put me in danger. If there stood even a

chance I could be harmed, he wouldn’t attempt such a thing,” Sarkinda declared
confidently. Inside, however she weighed all that Tellor described, for she did hear
better, see clearer and tier more easily. Even her sense of touch seemed more acute.
Could Tellor be telling the truth? Was all Eli promised a ploy to make her the self same
being that murdered her aunt and her entire tribe? Her spirit screamed in denial but did
it change her situation? She studied Tellor. Would he be willing to take her to her
grandmother, could she trust him to keep his word when they were safe away? Lately,
she had felt her powers increase. As a healer of Lyfia, she should have been able to
astro-project though meditation but as yet had not had the capability. She would make
an effort when she could be assured of privacy. Elicean told her they were mated and
bound through ritual. Was it another fabrication? Could their bond be broken so

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effortlessly? Apparently, it could. “Where would you take me to make sure he did not
follow and when would we embark on our journey?”

Tellor, somewhat surprised at Sarkinda’s sudden about face, surmised that her

feelings were not as engaged as he first thought for if she could leave him this easily;
the bonding must not be strong and therefore not ordained. And if that were the case,
perhaps Tellor merely carried out his prescribed function which meant that Fauna was
Eli’s true mate. He blew out a sigh of relief. He had chosen correctly.

Tellor stilled for a moment as if listening to some unseen creature then turned to

Sarkinda with hurried resolve.

“I must go; I am being summoned to meet our new guest. I will come for you

on the morrow with a plan to get you safely away to the destination of your choice.”

“Are you like your brother, can you travel as he within the mist?”
“He is the mist, little one, but I have my own talents and am more than capable

of both transporting and keeping you safe. Moreover,” he added with a sneer, “you
need not worry I will want a taste of you. I am not interested in my brother’s leavings.”

Sari felt soiled by his words and inferences; she would rely on her own powers

to find her way to the surface and away from these arrogant foolish beings. She had
been schooled since childhood on the honing, centering, and concentration of her
powers, one of which was in her communication with animals both large and small.
Her people, in fact, had many and varied powers. Not so encompassing or feral as the
utukku but strong enough for others to fear—strong enough for them to have had to flee
the small costal village where a plague had set in and ravished half of the inhabitants.
Her mother and grandmother had tried to help, but they were too late for many of them.
She shivered with the memory. A few of the men, insane with grief turned on her
family, blaming them for the sickness that caused so many deaths. Her mother and
grandmother were named witches and worse. Her parents died, giving her and her
grandmother precious time to escape to this new and unexplored land. Here they
remained careful to temper their abilities among Indian tribes who accepted them as
shamans.

Now she cast out searching for her friend, her familiar, the cougar she had

saved, healed, and now her constant companion…before Elicean. She mind thought
caution, stealth and told Rasir to follow the scent below to the feeders, the place she
resided. Rasir was happy to hear her and had been searching for her for days. He
seemed to be close, as he had been tracking the ones who had attacked her tribe in order
to find her. Sarkinda had known Lifthrasir lived or she would have felt his absence.
She sent back a mental picture of all she had seen of the caverns and then settled on the

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floor, cross-legged and concentrated on their shared link so they might know as the
cougar grew nearer. An invisible beam of connection impervious to walls but attuned
to distance. Caution, she thought, great caution. Her friend would not be long now.

* * *

“Tellor, may I present our most honored guest, Fauna. She has traveled far and

shown great valor in accepting our protection. Fauna, this is my youngest son, Tellor.”

Tellor, short-circuited at the beautiful vision before him; the roar in his ears

blocking out all cohesive thought. She flowed and shimmered before him like a mirage
in the desert. Too stunning to be real. Too real for his imagination to conjure. Too far
from his reach, his brother’s soon-to-be mate.

His father, exasperated, cleared his throat noisily. Never had he seen his

normally female-bait of a son at a loss for words. While Elicean took his leadership
responsibilities seriously, his other son took his play equally as seriously. He had cut a
wide path through most of their sect along with the unwary of the Alterian clan only to
be felled by this daughter of a previously unknown family half a world away. Nyle
glanced at his mate to find her mouth twitching and eyes dancing. He grasped her arm
and led her from the room to save the smitten couple from her mirth. It seemed that
where one son failed the other would succeed. Maybe all would workout as it should.

* * *

Elicean made his way from the war conference that had been hastily called.

Morpheus and his gang would be stopped, but how to accomplish it. He imagined
destroying all of the Carnomians for allowing such evil to exist in their midst—allowing
came close to condoning. But, though it would be the easy solution, he could not
condemn an entire clan for the actions of a few. The Order would somehow root out
those guilty and deal with them.

When he entered his chambers, he came upon Sari seated on the floor in some

kind of trance. He would have believed her simply relaxing but for the sheen of
moisture across her forehead and the bridge of her nose. She looked about ready to
drop from exhaustion.

“Enough,” he ordered, lifting her off the floor, ignoring her groans of pain from

remaining in the same position overly long. He laid her out on the bed and began
rubbing some warmth into her stone cold flesh. “What could you have been thinking,
foolish one. Can I not leave you even for a moment?”

“Really, Elicean, you’re over reacting. I was simply doing—some meditation

exercises. How did your meeting go?” It wouldn’t do to reveal her real purpose.
Somehow, she did not believe it would be met with approval. She glanced up at his

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concerned expression, so serious, so intent. She had noticed he didn’t laugh or even
smile with any regularity, not even in past visions of him and lifted her hand to softly
stroke the creases between his brows. Instantly, his expression turned to one of
tenderness and another she dared not contemplate, considering she would be leaving
and he would be engaged elsewhere. The mere thought of never seeing him again put
tears in her eyes and she blinked rapidly and pasted a bright smile on her face. She had
one last night with him to show him with her body what she could not in words.
Tonight, she would allow no doubts, obligations, or the future to mar her last night with
Elicean. Her hand wrapped around his neck and she pulled him down for her kiss.

Eli let her take charge of their lovemaking—initially. Sari seemed in desperate

need of him and he was only too anxious to oblige. His father had given his blessing,
not that it mattered, but the way would be easier for his mate. They were due to meet
his parents the following afternoon after the final counsel meeting. He flipped her over
on top and offered her a wicked grin before setting her on top of his shaft and impaling
her roughly. “Ahh, Sari, my only love. You have thoroughly captured my soul…and
other parts for all time. This time you will come to me freely, no more hiding; no more
subterfuge. After tonight, you will belong to me and all that I am will be yours. You
are my life, Sarkinda, never doubt it,” he swore as he surged up inside her once more
and began their newly discovered rhythm of passion and obsession.

Sarkinda kneaded his chest, and everywhere her hands could reach, memorizing

him by touch, taste, and sight. Moving over him, her thighs hugging his hips, she felt
like she was riding a stallion but at one with it, connected in body and spirit. The
feeling was elemental, and spiritual, and soul soaring. She reveled in her newfound
freedom, even as she mourned its end. Why had the Gods done this to her? Why give
her this gift only to rescind it? She would have been better off never to taste this joy,
this binding of soul with soul. How could she go on, and the truth rolled through her,
flooding into her. She was in love with him. Tears anointed Elicean’s chest even as her
orgasm took her. She emitted a guttural wail of completion and loss and collapsed on
his chest, holding him to her with all her strength and will.

“Sari, sweetheart, did I harm you? Was I too rough?” Eli asked. He was

thoroughly confused, it seemed if she was mourning and rejoicing at the same time.
Could she be so overcome with their lovemaking, the emotion exploded into tears?
That must be the case. Now was the time to tell her about the exchange of blood but her
tears had become sobs. He crushed her to him, speaking nonsense, quieting her with his
gentle hands, making a pattern on her back and into her hair, massaging her scalp.
Eventually they slept.

Lil Gibson

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Our spies informed of the Sumerian leader’s return along with a utukku female.

They reported their findings to the counsel and speculate that we are involved. The
female surface dweller, Sarkinda, said she recognized you during your foolish display
and greedy attempt to feed on her. I understand they are even discussing war between
our clans and will no doubt align the Alterians to their side. We must act quickly and
surprise them before they can get prepared, though all is not yet in place. You have
made a mess of this Morpheus, we will be lucky to escape unscathed.”

Morpheus grunted, un-effected. “You are the fool, Lydok,” he stated before

realizing his error.

“Be very careful, Morpheus, remember who your leader is,” he said as he

crossed the room a mind-drugging potion. “I am in a very good position to use you as
a scapegoat for this entire mess. Yes, I think it would work, if it comes to that. I expect
you to see that it does not. Now go!”

Lydok shook his head and wiped the sweat gathering over his face and neck. He

dreaded the hours ahead.

* * *

Elicean soundlessly exited his chambers to meet with the others in The Order of

the Mist. They were meeting to analyze the information gathered to try and determine
the number of likely combatants and their plans.

Uppermost in his mind was keeping Sarkinda safe. The third exchange had yet

to be accomplished. Their second lovemaking that night had been as intense as the first,
without the tears, but he would have no further lies between them. She would have her
choice, though not much of one, because he could feel their bond strengthening beyond
the point of breaking, at least for him. How would she react when she discovered the
truth? She believed he simply took a small amount of her blood after an intense bout of
lovemaking, when in truth it marked the conclusion of an elaborate ritual to bring her
over, and make her one of them. It had been conducted carefully and meticulously or
her life could have been forfeit and his ruined. The bond created if torn proved painful
to the extreme, in some cases deadly. But he had no intention of that happening to

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either of them. The transformation had been easy on her, almost natural, and his powers
had increased with each transfer. He could read certain shadows of her thoughts and it
was that that troubled him most. She was hiding something from him just as he was
from her. But he fully intended to reveal all and explain that since her strength had
increased ten fold, she might consider using caution when throwing him across the
room after his confession. His mouth quirked up at the corner with the thought, not just
with that image but in having everything out in the open. Having anything come
between them had become distinctly uncomfortable. But what was she holding from
him? He knew something tore at her but what, he couldn’t pin point.

“There you are,” Tellor exclaimed, visibly startling Elicean out of his reverie

and then began chuckling at his brother’s expense. “I haven’t been able to sneak up on
you since before you could float. What has you so preoccupied? You’re not worried
about the coming confrontation? I believe we will handle the situation easily;
resurrecting the The Order was long past due and it gives me purpose, once again. All
that decadent activity was wearing thin, I’m afraid to say,” Tellor sighed dramatically.
“Ophhh. What was that for?” Tellor grunted, when Elicean delivered an elbow to his
ribs.

“Shall we announce our plans to the entire inhabitants, the catacombs have ears

as well as walls.”

“Sorry, brother,” Tellor said, somewhat subdued. Eli glanced sideways,

wondering at his sudden change of mood. His brother was a clown and exceedingly
popular with the female sex but seldom introspective or somber. “What concerns you,
Tellor?”

“Huh? Oh, nothing. You are very lucky in mates, Eli. I have never envied you

the eldest spot. The responsibilities were simply never of interest, but now I find
myself at odds with your position, almost jealous.”

“Are you ill, Tellor? What could you find to envy when I’ve yet to introduce

you, though I can’t help but agree. She is beyond stunning with a strong heart, quick
mind, and beautiful spirit.”

“To say nothing of her exotic, soulful eyes, amazon build, and midnight silken

mane,” Tellor finished.

Elicean’s steps faltered for none of those attributes minutely described his

woman, and then Fauna’s image crystallized in his mind and he barked out a laugh.

“Fauna is not for me, Tellor, at this very moment our parents are searching you

out. They believe that perhaps Fauna would be better suited to you. I tried to explain
that you would not easily give up your wandering ways, but they insisted it would be a

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good match. Now, I wonder if that might just be the case. At first, I thought that was
the cause of your blue mood.”

“I don’t understand, what happened?”
“Sarkinda has been accepted as my mate. There are hereditary circumstances

that make her suitable.”

“You won a sparring contest with father? The man who can still make us feel

preadolescent? What miracle is this and what hereditary circumstances, surely she is
not, doesn’t have--” Lyfia blood. Tellor would have finished, but it was never spoken
aloud, even among immediate family. Tellor thought back to their one meeting. Why
hadn’t he seen it? The marked features, slight accent, and healing gifts. A thrumming
began in his blood. He could claim Fauna for himself. None of his other brothers or
cousins would get a chance at her, and Sarkinda…he recalled his belligerent accusations
and demands that he take her far from Elicean and had the grace to flush a deep red. He
would apologize right after he saw his parents and made concurrent demands
concerning Fauna. First, however, he’d warn Elicean of their conversation.

Lifthrasir gently licked the tears escaping Sarkinda’s lashes. She’d missed her

friend, her only friend, and took a few moments to tunnel her fingers through his hair
and scratch behind his ears in proper greeting. He had padded into Elicean’s chambers
silently and calmly, having had little trouble evading the utukku most of whom were
resting at that time of day. They must hurry, Elicean had been gone for a long while
and she wanted to be well away before he returned. She had no illusions of pursuit, it
would be counted a blessing that she had returned to her people. After leaving a quick
message, they departed.

Elicean burst into his chambers followed by Tellor to find her gone. She had

acted strangely the night before but he hadn’t pressed her, too preoccupied with his own
deception. She had overheard the conversation with his parents and Fauna and believed
he would toss her aside because of a few words from his father. He would be laughing
his head off if it weren’t so tragic. If the Carnomians found her before he did—he
shuddered at the thought. It would spell disaster on many levels. He read her scribbled
words. She believed that would be that? He would teach her differently when he found
her and brought her back—if. “This could be our worst nightmare come true, why
didn’t I get her away as soon as I suspected her heritage? If they find her—”

“We won’t allow that to happen. You follow her scent and track her; I’ll go to

father and alert the others to follow you unobtrusively. We don’t want the three
families charging after her like the final prize of a hunt. Go, Elicean, I will bring

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reinforcements. They shouldn’t touch her as you have performed the ancient rite of
joining, but I don’t trust Morpheus and his ‘disciples’ even within my sight.”

Elicean followed Sarkinda at a blur, but dared not shape shift where any could

witness it. He could almost smell her fear, her terror, or was it his own?

The route was not one he was familiar with and wondered if she had spent every

waking hour away from him exploring for just this chance. He’d made so many
mistakes with her. He had demanded her trust but hadn’t given his in return. He was
living to regret his autocratic ways. Making arbitrary decisions for others without
understanding the full import of what those decisions could ultimately cost. He was
worse than his father and now it could cost him everything. What she had done to him
was so integral, so deep-rooted that it invaded his very soul, making him a better male,
a better being. It made him understand that all creatures, no matter how seemingly
insignificant deserved their chance at life and protection against evil. If the Soul Lifters
chose to end life then he would end theirs. Let them feel his power, let them know the
fear they inflict onto others.

For him, at that moment, it began in earnest—The Order of the Mist. His doubts

about Sarkinda’s happiness were put to rest as he realized that in order to keep the
surface dwellers safe required The Order’s presence on the surface—permanently. She
could remain in the sunlight, the rain and the wind, while he remained of the earth…and
the mist.

Advancing closer, he could feel Sarkinda’s terror like a palatable thing. To hell

with prudence, he shifted into mist and rose through the molten rock to materialize
within range of her. What he saw rooted him to the spot.

Sarkinda wondered briefly if it had been a trap to keep her from fleeing. She

was surrounded on all sides by robed wraiths. One in particular stood out. Morpheus.
One by one, they flew at her trying to grab her. So far, Lifthrasir had met their attempts
for no one wanted to tangle with an angry mountain lion twice their size, only she
wasn’t sure how much longer Rasir would tolerate their taunting, and attack. When that
happened the others would be free to come after her. She had to do something. “I am
protected by the rite of joining. Any who come near will die beneath my mate’s hand.
You may destroy me but my blood and fluids will carry my scent and act as a homing
beacon for your destruction. One by one, he will hunt you down. And if any touch my
familiar the same fate will be carried out if I have to do it myself. You will never again
be safe within your cocoon. My mate has his powers but I have my own, let me pass
and don’t test them.”

Lil Gibson

“The sweet little surface dweller has a bite, I see. Think you can compete with

the power of the utukku? And that farce of a mating ritual you went through may be
strong enough to keep Sumerians at bay, but we Carnomians have our own law,”
Morpheus threatened.

“And what would those be, exactly, Morpheus of Carnomia?” Came the quiet

inquiry out of the wind.

The hooded disciples looked around in confusion. What magic was this? They

could hear the disembodied voice, but couldn’t pinpoint its location. It was everywhere,
almost like a haunting. The Carnomians began whispering to each other as they strove
to slink away from the scene. This was the omnipotent power they’d been promised,
but it was not among the disciples.

Elicean’s senses absorbed their feelings of confusion, and fear with fierce

satisfaction. None would escape his wrath this day, but first he must get Sarkinda away.
He didn’t want her to be a witness of what was to come. Tellor and three others of the
Order appeared from the opening. Elicean ordered them to escort Sarkinda back to their
chambers while he finished up on the surface. Tellor made to stay, but understood
Elicean’s need to vanquish all who would harm his mate himself; to rid himself of the
rage pouring through him if nothing else.

Sarkinda halted half way to the cave entrance when she noticed Rasir had not

followed. Her gaze found and lit on her familiar and the foggy scene. Elicean had left
Morpheus until last.

“You think to snuff me as the others? It will never work. My powers go beyond

all who served me. I have taken a thousand souls into myself and am at least as strong
as you. I just have never had to expend my stored powers before now. I am glad to
have this chance for I shall deliver you to your Gods and drink every last drop of you.
Then all will worship my greatness and bow to my superiority.” Morpheus laughed the
laugh of the insane as he continued. “Did that coward even enter your chambers? I can
see by your confusion that he did not. That utukku probably lied and couldn’t hold the
snake shape for as long as it took to leave Carnomian borders. He most likely killed
himself with the amount of Laquade root in his system. It wouldn’t have affected a
snake’s metabolism, only the utukku.” Morpheus shrugged. “Told me he came from
another family. Called himself Sriver from the Boraki sect and said he’d been banished
for misdeeds. Nothing but a coward, no doubt.”

“He paid us a visit, Morpheus. At the time, I thought he might be vampyre but

his appearance did not seem quite right. But the Boraki, I have heard their powers
differ from ours in certain areas. It completes the mystery except for one last detail. It

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was you and your followers that wrought such waste in the human massacres. Your
purpose was to make it seem like vampyre and ghoul. I’m sure if I did not carry out the
deed of your demise, our cousins certainly would, following your banishment.”

“I told you, ill-suited Elicean, your powers can’t touch mine. I am immortal.”
“I don’t think so, Morpheus, watch and die.” Elicean evaporated into mist,

flying up to the heavens. He reappeared bring with him a deluge of boulders that
flattened Morpheus into the ground. Elicean then disintegrated the boulders exposing
the pancake-like body and re-inflated him with hot air until he exploded. He couldn’t
help but be mischievous; his powers had been hidden for too long. Finally, he
incinerated the many pieces into ash. Morpheus would not be returning. With a
thought, his ashes were scattered to the winds.

Lil Gibson

CHAPTER NINE

Sarkinda paced, stomping back and forth in Elicean’s chambers; the guards

remaining vigilant at the door “for her protection”. They were keeping her prisoner for
her fluids, no doubt.

She had almost wept with relief at the sight of Elicean, his powers close to

Odin’s, were daunting to behold. When Morpheus’s heart burst from his chest and
landed directly in front of Lifthrasir, her cat was too polite to turn down the proffered
delicacy. When the danger passed, he had crushed her to him and for a moment, she
believed all would be well, until he’d dumped her in his chambers with two guards at
his door and vanished. And here she remained. Lifthrasir stayed on high alert, sitting
facing the entrance to the chamber, not in a mood to let anyone near her. A warning
growl proclaimed Elicean’s arrival. Her heart skipped then began a staccato beat that
she feared could be heard across the room. Rasir stood between them and as Elicean
made to go around the massive cougar, Rasir moved with him deciding not even the
tasty morsel Elicean fed him sufficient to let him near his mistress.

“Hello, danzii, you are unharmed?” Elicean inquired still trying to manipulate

the cat. “Would you call this beast off,” he demanded, exasperated. “The only reason I
refrain from giving him a lesson in manners is that he probably saved your life, which
would have been completely unnecessary if you had remained safely within our
chambers.”

“I was doing you a favor by--”
“A favor, is that what you call it? You took a hundred years off my life, is what

you did.”

Sarkinda snorted. “Considering you’re immortal…”
“Of course,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “you did bring things to a

rather quick and satisfying conclusion. Probably saved everyone a good deal of time
and frustration, but your days of setting yourself up as a sacrificial lamb are over. And
tell this cat to get out of my way, now!” he roared.

“Rasir, please go into the grotto behind me, take a bath, and freshen up a bit, it’s

been a rather active evening,” Sarkinda politely requested.

SOUL PROTECTOR

“Take a bath in our hot spring? I warn you right now that I will not share a bed

with that furry monster. Is the thing even housebroken? We don’t live in a cave, you
know.”

Sarkinda merely tilted her head and raised an eyebrow.
Elicean had the consideration to look sheepish. “Sari, danzii,” Eli began as he

moved to hold her.

“I am not your danzii,” she shot back, folding her arms across her chest, “unless

of course you lied and intend on taking two mates, something forbidden by your people,
you said.”

“It is not only forbidden Sari, but impossible for us to do. When utukku mate, it

is for life and even if our mate dies, never do we take another unless the first was not a
bonded mate. We do not have that problem, however. We are bonded mates.”

“I heard differently--,” Sarkinda began only to be cut off by Eli.
“I know what you heard and I know about your conversation with Tellor. He is

very sorry he misled you, incidentally, but the fact is you did not hear the entire
conversation and don’t know how it concluded. Would you like to sit with me Sari,
there is much to explain.”

“You took my blood only to make you stronger,” she accused.
“I took your blood as part of the mating ritual to bind us for all time.”
“You made me take your blood, without explaining, without giving me a

choice.”

“That too is part of the mating ritual, but it was wrong of me not to tell you.

Wrong to not give you a choice,” he admitted.

“You tried to make me into the monster who killed my aunt and niece.”
“The Spirit Lifters are monsters, that I will grant, but surface dwellers have their

own monsters as do all species under the heavens. The utukku do not kill except for
food as do most beings, we live for a very long time and have talents beyond the scope
of many and yes, I would change you so I would not lose you in a few scant years.
When one of our people loses a mate, it is like half of him is severed and disintegrated.
So great is the loss that many times the mate left behind does not survive. True mates
are intertwined, one being, and cannot be separated without both dying. Even when you
traveled to the surface, I could feel the distance, the pulling at my soul.

“I should have explained, but I was afraid. Afraid you would not choose

me…not choose us. I love you, Sarkinda, with my entire being. I love your wit, your
kindness to all and the way you share your gift to any who need it, the way my world
lights up with just a smile from you, and the way you touch me, and feel when I am

Lil Gibson

inside you. And I would do anything—lie, cheat, steal, even beg for your life and mine
to be one. Will you grant me my wish, Sari?”

“I love you, Eli, and would choose you if my life were mine to give, but it

belongs to those above. I took a vow that it would always be so, in order to be gifted
with the magic inside me. Eir, the Norse goddess of healing instilled both her
knowledge and powers to that end, and I in turn vowed my life and service to her or
accept termination. It is given and there is no out-clause attached. Even if you succeed
in changing me to one of the Others, I will still die when my shaman powers are
stripped from me. So, even if I wanted to stay, it is impossible. Fate has played a
horrible trick on us. I will die without you and surely die if I stay with you.”

“Then I will live in your world and you can have both. It has already been

proposed that to protect those above, a contingent of the Order must reside close to
them. I will be among those chosen or step down and dwell above with you. A meeting
is being called to decide this and it will be done. I love you, my danzii; you are my
heart. I will return to you momentarily.”

Sarkinda’s heart was stricken, it was just as Tellor foretold; Elicean would give

up everything for her. And she could not allow it. Just as she had her place in the vast
scope of the universe so did Eli and tragically they did not correspond.

Sari sat cross-legged on the bed and began to meditate, hoping to transcend to

that magical place that would allow her to astro-project back to her home—to the
mountain of Lyfia and the goddess Eir. Once again, she felt her increased powers,
powers her time with Eli had enhanced. She felt herself fading…

SOUL PROTECTOR

CHAPTER TEN

Her body shimmered like a mirage in a desert. She was using her new powers to

leave him. She’d fade from his life for all time if he could not stop her. He reacted
swiftly, changing into mist and traveling with her wherever her mind transported them.
When he sensed muscles, tendons and the swift flow of fluids signaling movement, he
materialized beside her. She understandably looked as if she espied an apparition. He
smiled wickedly, fanning her horror.

“H-How…” She reached out a hand to touch him, to reassure herself he was no

hallucination. He was solid, hard and so very warm that she wanted to weep. From joy
or frustration she couldn’t decide.

“Lifthrasir got your tongue, my love?” Eli realized she’d brought her mountain

cat with her and felt a lick of outrage that she would take her cat and forget her mate.
Her other half. If he’d not traveled with her, she would now be feeling the effects of
separation. A hole in the pit of her center that would grow until almost unbearable, and
they hadn’t even undergone the third exchange…which he was about to remedy,
uncaring if any looked on. She was his and he would take her as such. She would
never escape him again. He slowly moved toward her and she retreated.

“Eli…”
“Stop,” he commanded. “Not one word will pass your lips until the ritual is

complete, until my blood crosses your lips and nourishes your body, in case you were
wondering. From now on, nothing but my blood will nourish you until I am satisfied
that the binding is so strong it becomes an addiction you can’t think of doing without.
His arm shot out faster than her eye could follow and his hand fastened onto her neck
then drew her slowly to him. Her trepidation was a palatable thing and he reveled in it.
He crushed his mouth down onto hers, forcing her mouth open and swept his tongue
inside so deeply the lack of air threatened to make her swoon. His arms banded around
her and drew her to the ground. He tore the soft leather shift straight up and off her and
studied his handy work. She was more precious, more beautiful than anything the gods
had ever made and his manhood gorged to bursting to get inside her, to posses her. He
fell on top of her, drawing her hands above her head, anchoring them with one hand

Lil Gibson

while cupping her buttocks with the other, raising her for his possession. He spread her
legs wide and entered her to the hilt then drew back and pumped into her again. He set
a fast and forceful cadence, pummeling her, punishing her, filling her, fulfilling her. On
and on he drove until she was groaning then crying then screaming with the force of
their joining. Her orgasm careened her to another place of wonder and blinding light,
and then she felt a piercing at the base of her neck and heard Eli’s cry of satisfaction as
he pumped his seed into her, while taking her blood. Then he rose above her letting her
see for the first time the beast in him, the utukku. He ripped the place above his heart
and lifted her head. “Drink,” he commanded. The scent of his blood fired something
inside her and she tentatively put her lips over his wound and tasted. It was an
aphrodisiac and she fastened her hands around his forearm to hold him to her as she
drank. His blood forced another orgasm to erupt inside her and she raised her head to
yell her release then collapsed into the little death. He moved to her side and pulled her
into the cradle of his body and slept holding her tightly to him.

Elicean opened his eyes to ethereal perfection. Her hair shone with red

highlights and flowing waves, her body was sculpted perfection and she stood almost as
tall as he. She was studying him with the same directness he returned until he noticed
that both he and Sari lounged in a soft massive bed that felt as soft as a cloud and
covered with a thick billowy blanket resembling one. “Sari, my love, wake up
sweetheart, we have company. It seems we are the guest of your people.”

They were ordered to dress and join the company of their hostesses Eir and

Frigg. The messenger called herself Gna. While the names held no significance for
Elicean, Sarkinda began trembling so badly Elicean had to fasten the tops of her
shoulder straps to the long flowing gown of gossamer cloud white.

Elicean drew his arms around his mate from behind and crooned his love into

her ear, telling her not to worry, he would not allow anyone to harm her.

“But they are the goddesses Eir and Frigg. Eir is the goddess I swore fealty to

and Frigg is an even more powerful being than Eir. She knows everyone’s destiny and
governs love and fertility. She could separate us and make us forget one another. I
would never know your hands on my body or my lips on yours or hear your voice in my
heart. Don’t you understand, our fate is literally in their hands and if they deem our
liaison a wrong one our lives will be forever separate. Eli, I may never see you again
and I would choose death over that.”

“Shh, my heart, not all the gods in the universe can take you from me. The

turning is complete, we share one soul and there is not a force in this universe that can
destroy that. Please trust me for this is my sacred vow to you. All will be well.”

SOUL PROTECTOR

“He is arrogant and disrespectful of his betters. How did one of my chosen ones

come to be under his spell. I will turn him to dust and blow him back to his home
land,” Eir proclaimed, vexed.

Frigg’s tinkling laughter showcased her amusement. “You couldn’t destroy him

even if you wanted, you are the goddess of healing; all you can do is project him home,
but both of us know that would not keep them apart. I have seen this coming together
from before the child was born. All has transpired as it should. He will bade her
continue her healing gifts and keep her safe to do so, and he will be a worthy Soul
Protector for all weaker beings of the earth, even those undeserving of his protection.
They come,” Frigg stated, needlessly. “The future leader of the Order of the Mist has
his mate and the forces of good and evil will again fall into balance…at least for the
present.”

Lil Gibson

Author Bio

Before diving into the overwhelming waters of penning woman’s fiction, Lil was a
singer, and cocktail waitress, sales rep, and headhunter, specializing in information
Technologies. She recruited her IT husband out of North Carolina, relocated him to her
home in Nashville and married him a year and three month later. She now lives in
Florida with her husband and three cats.

See other works by this talented author at

www.Venuspress.com