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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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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.”

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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.

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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.”

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“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

SOUL PROTECTOR

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