With Winter Solstice right around the corner, I thought I’d share some fun world building stuff I wrote forever ago. Not all of the characters will be familiar yet, but I thought a look into serpent tradition from various perspectives might be fun to read anyways. So Happy Whatever, have a present! First up is Kairag, an old friend of Kain’s.
The work on Asylum is making slow but steady progress, albeit in a backwards sort of way. As previously mentioned, I’m looking for beta readers for a small back story piece, taking place a couple thousand years before the events of Asylum. (Random, I know, but some important things happened back then that I simply have to figure out before I can move forward. I’ve been faking it til now, but I can’t anymore. Can’t be helped.) So I thought I’d share the opening, tentatively called “What Dreams May Come”. Let me know what you guys think!
As previously mentioned, I’m working on Asylum edits and backstories, and I’m in need of some volunteers. I have a lovely reader for proofreading, but I’m also looking for someone less familiar with the rules and lore of Asylum’s universe. The piece I’m working on plays with some legendary figures, and I’d like a reader who can tell me if I’m taking too much for granted. I know who all these people are, now I just have to make sure the readers will.
Currently, there’s no deadline or set pace, so if you’d like a sneak peak into the next Asylum-verse story, drop me a line! I’d love to hear from you. 🙂
Kain watched the serpent fall as still as only a serpent could. But this stillness… It held notes of the dark ice of night, an element no serpent of spark and fire should be able to touch.
His lips twisted in a grimace. It was perverse what the Dai twisted their people into. Taking what the Gods had formed and blaspheming it to their own purpose, or worse, simply playing to see what they could get away with before Nature called their broken forms home. A cobra of fire with a heart of ice – even if Dev hadn’t said a word, he would have known the Dai’s influence.
Naj let himself fall automatically into the motions of his memories. He would not let himself rise from this place, lest the terror and passion of the now taint his thoughts. Li’Daea’s light had no place here, and the hawk burned with it. She had rekindled fire long forgotten in himself, but he did trust their use now. Later, he would walk in the light. Later, he would dance and laugh and sing with this hawk who swayed like a serpent. It was not lost on him that he, a serpent twice marked by Li’Daea’s fire, was asking the cold god of the griffics to help him free a raptor, so that she might dance again with Li’Daea’s light. Naj had no power here, no right to ask this, but it seemed the Dark God was willing to hear his plea in exchange for the many years this fire-blessed cobra had served in the name of night.
Naj opened his eyes and turned a gaze unseeing on the outside world. His vision swam with silver, lines of power tracing this way and that. He could see the echo of Nica’s performance earlier, the storm and the vines still hanging like ghosts in the air. Fainter lines traced other powers that had been used on this stage again and again.
They were almost invisible in the glare of the active spell that enveloped Nica.
Spidery threads crisscrossed her here and there, tainted with shadows of smoke. He let his eyes slide over them, not focusing on any one thing in particular, just letting the sight of it wash over him to see if any patterns presented themselves. One thread shone in particular, weaving itself in and out of the cocoon, only to exit it and shoot off into the ether. Farther from the cocoon, it dimmed and faded, lost in the darkness outside the glare of the body of the spell. Naj stepped toward it, letting it run just above his hands, examining it, but not touching it himself.
Echoes of the reality within Nica’s mind pushed at him, danced at the edges of his vision, called to him with screams and sobs and pleading, but he paid it no mind. If he’d focused on it, he could have shifted his vision to see into the prison her mind had become, possibly directly from her point of view, though most likely as a spectator, but it would have done no good. There was no precious clue to be learned from witnessing that, only distraction. Nica was fire to his soul, he needed ice. He needed cold, calculated distance, and he needed to hurry. The power the dark god had lent him would only last so long without a power source, and even as bountiful as his overfilled energy was, he was running out of time.
He turned his attention more directly on the single thread that disappeared into the nothingness. He could trace it back, but he had the feeling of enormous distance as he stared in the direction it had left, and he knew he had not the strength of soul to make that journey. Nor the time. Clearly, he was become more the child of Li’Daea if his thoughts kept returning to the passage of time in the outside world. The il’m was quiet, nothingness, eternity. Il’Dao was ageless and a thousand years was but a moment to the Dark God. But Naj didn’t have the strength of a thousand years to draw on. He was fading fast, whispers of his true serpent self showing through. In emotionless determination, Naj did what he knew needed to be done without giving his more passionate self a chance to object.
Naj reached outside him, seizing whatever power he found there. Most of the souls he touched were too young to be of any consequence, some almost weak enough to not even been felt. He reached out and brushed a mind cool and distant, and left a hook there to draw on if needed. It was not exactly what he was seeking, but if he needed still more power, he would need it with a quickness, so he made his plans now and laid them to wait.
Nat had barely closed the door to the downstairs when a mind brushed hers. She fell back against the door, eyes closing at the intrusion. Before she could protest, there was a small tug and it was gone again.
Her breath came quick and shallow, her amber eyes opening to stare at the stage curtains. Marie had said Naj and Kain had been fighting – was that what she was feeling? Surely not, she couldn’t fathom anyone being able to stand up to Kain. He might downplay himself, but she knew he was a force to be reckoned with.
And whatever she’d just felt had not been the big cat.
Which meant it must be Naj, but that… That alien brush had hardly felt like the serpent.
She pushed off the door, determined to find out what was happening. When she pushed aside the curtain though, she stopped cold, a gasp on her lips.
Naj brushed another power that wavered and flux, strong, but too inconstant to be of any use to him. This soul did not sit still, it would take more energy than it was worth to try and pin them down. He passed it by.
Most of his awareness, however, was drawn in by one shining soul.
There was heat, there was passion there, but it lay like a shimmering heatwave over layer upon layer of unyielding stone. The core of this power was immense, unmoving, and dark. Most importantly there was weight. This was a soul that understood the press of ages, and a soul whose song sang of power and untold strength. This was the power he needed, and he claimed it without a thought.
Diving back beneath the surface into the depths of his mind, he drug the powers he’d claimed with him. Later, his serpent’s soul would mourn for what he’d done to his friends. Later, he would apologize and face the shame of it, accepting if they chose to exile him from their nest. Even in raptor society, where much was excused in the name of power, what he was doing was done only in the most dire of circumstances, but the quiet part of him agreed that these were indeed those circumstances. But the serpent in him was too passionate to ever excuse the crimes he was committing against his fellow dancers. To invade another’s soul, to violate them in a way that mere physical rape never could – well, he’d deal with that after they’d saved Nica.
He returned to the place where he could see the demon’s magic, and reached out again until he found the singular thread. Armed with real power backing him up, he examined the thread to see what it would tell him. He reached out with a tendril of power, taking special care not to actually touch it himself, and sent a probing thought into it.
It dissolved like a wisp of smoke.
He stood, confused for a moment that such a thing would occur. He had felt the immeasurable power as he’d examine the line before, this should not have been a thing so easily broken. The demon that spun this was far beyond Naj’s skill and power level, and yet this single thread had dissolved at the slightest touch.
As his thoughts moved from line to cocoon, the power chased the dissolving spell through the many layers of illusions heaped upon it. It would have taken lifetimes to unravel if he’d had to have started from the main weaving. They had all been unspeakably lucky that Naj, with his years of study in demon magic, had been the first to make the attempt. Like spider silk, the web would have simply ensnared any attempts to probe it directly. Those desperate to assist Nica would have strengthened the demon’s hold, adding mortal power to the demonic aura that held her. Each hand would have made the spell more solid, more real, until an actual web of lies had bound her so thoroughly it would never be broken.
But to a demon, or those versed in them, the signature had been clear. The thread to unwind the spell had shone bright and clear against the chaos, but Naj had expected it to take much more effort to untwist. This…
This almost called to mind the practice of his earliest days, when demons who worked willingly along side the Dai had made weavings so simple that even the children they taught could unwind them. It was… well, almost insulting to be offered such a spell now. It was negligible, like an after thought. What had the demon meant by it?
But there was no time to consider it. Like the thread that had tied it to its master, the strings of the cocoon were unraveling and dissolving. Satisfied that the work he had been called to do was complete, the borrowed power of Il’Dao abandoned him, and Naj found himself sucked back to the here and now with frightening speed.
He gasped as his soul slammed back into his body, physically reeling at the force with which he hit. Instantly, his mind processed that he had been sitting still and cross legged at Nica’s side, breathless and unmoving. The power of the dark god had sustained him, as it did any raptor drawing on magics for extended periods of time. But as soon as that power had abandoned him, his soul rushed back to his body to nourish it. Naj felt gray at the edges of his vision, and more drained than he had the first time he’d been with Nica this morning, but as long as he held perfectly still he would not crumble. His heart beat frantically to pump oxygen back into his starved chest and limbs, the beginnings of dizziness and nausea curling around his brain. Before slipping into unconsciousness a thousand thoughts reeled through his mind as his soul caught up with him. What have I done. How long was I gone. I’m sorry, I’m sorry oh Nine Gods forgive me my friends forgive me but most importantly Is Nica ok?
As you may have noticed, today is not Asylum’s normal update day. That’s because, as of today, Asylum is on hiatus.
I’ve spent the past month trying to figure out how I want to do this, and I feel this is the best way. I’m about 10 chapters in to a revision of a Asylum that’s more streamlined, better paced, more in character, and much more coherent. Publishing Asylum to in an online format was always meant to be something that kept me interested in the project, and it has done just that. So much so, that my interest in continuing Asylum as moved beyond the scope of a web novel.
I want to get Asylum properly polished, trimmed, and in its best format. After working with this blog, I really believe this (new, streamlined version) is something I can query with, and I’m going to do just that.
I’ll keep this blog updated with progress reports, one liners, further tidbits of interests, and calls for beta readers. If you love Asylum and want to see where it’s going, hit me up. I am always looking for a fresh pair of eyes to go over my work.
It’s been fun. I can’t believe it’s been a whole year. Asylum has come so far, and has farther still to go. Thank you all for your support. I can’t wait to meet you all at future book signings!
Once past the ward, Kain’s thoughts flared wide, seeking Naj out. He followed the serpent onto the stage, slowing as he moved the curtain aside. There had been a tickle, something other than Naj for just a moment…
His eyes widened, taking in the sight of Nica motionless on the floor. Her eyes were open and unseeing. Her fingers were curled on themselves, limbs askew as if she’d simply fallen where she’d stood.
Over her stood Naj, a small smile flickering on his face as he knelt to touch the blood seeping from her mouth.
He’d need a tie back to this world, something to help him break back through the illusion. There wasn’t much strong enough here to help Naj keep his sense of self, but he’d rather take that risk than a misaligned spell with no name.
A familiar aura had appeared at his back as he’d been lost in studying the illusion. He’d ignored it until now, but as he pulled himself back into the space beyond the empty, he spoke to Kain without looking up.
“I’m going to need a tether.”
Kain closed his eyes against the sight, willing his heart to slow. Something wasn’t right here. Other than the obvious, what he was seeing wasn’t right. This was too obvious, too…
The moment he thought it, he felt the shift. He heard Naj’s voice and opened his eyes to find the serpent standing at the edge of an empty stage. His expression was hard and he was staring at the stage as if there were something there that he would see if he only stared hard enough.
Kain could feel it too, something was pushing an illusion at them.
“A tether – where’s Nica?”
He had a feeling he already knew the answer, but he didn’t understand how or what was happening within the empty stage.
Naj snapped in frustration. “Questions later. Just hold this.” He lashed a strand of power in Kain’s direction and dove beneath the icy waters of power swirling in his mind.
Azriel watched the pair of men talking at the edge of the stage, pulling his glove through his bare hand over and over as he thought.
He’d hoped that the larger of the two would have bought into that simple illusion, a fight between them would have given him a little more time with his lovely little hawk.
His green gaze fell to the woman at his feet and he smiled affectionately. Not that he wasn’t enjoying every moment they were currently getting to spend together. Something about the way his shadows crawled through her skin… Her eyes were wide, and his shadows gathered there to make them completely black. He liked that better than the golden hazel her eyes had held before. This made her look… Well, like something of his.
He knelt, running a bare hand over her heart, tracing a symbol there with the shadows that flowed freely between his skin and hers. Oh, but she was a fierce one. Even trapped in her own mind, playing with a mere shadow of himself… She was delicious. Her fear tremulous and hard won, trickling down the tether that currently bound them together.
Some people wept fear so freely it was almost cloying. This one… She didn’t fear for herself – or at least, she hadn’t at first. No, her fear was something unto a delicacy.
He hummed softly as his shadow found a particularly good sore spot to press. He could hear her mental shriek as she finally gave in… His eyes closed, savoring it.
A push against his barrier interrupted and he stood with a sigh. All good things must come to an end, but she’d served her purpose… And there was no telling how long it would take them to break his hold with how many layers of shadow he’d cocooned her mind in.
And Devin would know he’d been here, which had been his intent all along.
With a last smile at the hawk whose pale skin now writhed with his darkness, he vanished, leaving only his calling card behind.
Air! Need air! Can’t breathe! Can’t move! Fear! TerrorterrorterrrorpanicAIR!!!
Naj staggered until the assault when the barrier abruptly fell. He hadn’t broken it, it has simply vanished. The false emptiness of the stage was immediately surging with feeling, a suffocating wash of sensation.
But, even so, it was… muted. Naj could still think past it, which meant it was only an echo, the lingering ghost of a moment past. Not too long passed, but as Naj sucked in careful breaths of air to chase the panic away, he realized the feeling was already shifting.
The emotion felt oily, slick, and it left an ugly film across his aura. Mentally, he tried to slough it off, but it only coagulated into a thicker sludge. Naj pushed against it, and it thickened still, so he let it go, and went serpent still, listening.
Nica’s screams rang out, but with that same echoey quality as the panic from before. There were too many of them, layered back on themselves again and again, and laced with grim, stony silence, a determination not to scream, not to give in—it was maddening. Naj willed himself not to hear, closed his eyes even as spectral images began to form around him, and dove deeper.
A growl trickled from Kain as the power hit him, but he held it, rooting it to only a part of his aura. They were going to have a talk after this though.
Thin white bands appeared on his wrists and Kain took a deep breath, forming a fist with one hand.
There was a soft pop as the illusion broke, Nica and Naj coming visible. It mirrored what he’d seen before, but this Naj was more concerned, and Nica…
It caught his breath in his throat. Her tanned skin was pale and black lines flowed along it. Her eyes were wide and dark, for a moment he’d thought the sockets empty.
What bothered him most though, was the faint echo of her mind, buried somewhere within her. She was in pain and afraid.
Nica’s eyes blinked open slowly, wincing as she registered tight pain in her arms. When her vision came back into focus, she realized she was in the main room of the club. She stood on stage… Except stood wasn’t the right word. Her feet barely touched the floor enough for her toes to taker her weight. Her arms were bound above her head, the rope vanishing up to where the rafters should be. Here there was nothing but darkness and she suddenly remembered Az.
Her gaze flickered around the room, her body twisting on the rope where her feet barely met the ground. Her senses strained, trying to figure out what had happened after he touched her, all she remembered was the cool chill of his touch, an ice that burned, and a strange slithering sensation on her skin… Into her skin.
This wasn’t really the club, there were minor differences, like the lack of ceiling and walls. The bar was there, but there was only one table with a single chair before the stage.
The biggest difference was that here, the room was deafeningly silent. There was nothing to listen for, no matter how hard she strained – no thrum of electricity, no whisper of insect activity, even her own breathing, which should be fast and harsh from fighting back the panic, was lacking.
When Az suddenly stepped into her line of vision, she jerked back, crying out silently as the rope pulled her back into position before him.
He smiled. In other circumstances, he would be considered a beautiful man. Black, stylish cut hair and green eyes that glittered with mirth, full lips… He was still dressed to the nines as when she had last seen him. As she watched, he crossed the room to the table and chair, setting down a small briefcase she had somehow missed.
When he turned to regard her, she was glad for the silence, at least she would be spared something in all of this. Then he parted his lips and spoke. His voice drifted across the room and slid against her skin with its softness. “I trust you understand what’s happening.”
She shivered and pulled back involuntarily. The quiet nature of his voice gave it an intimacy that caused her more pain than a slap would have. It was melodic, pleasant… And so contrary to what she knew was going to happen.
As Az continued to speak in that haunting tone, he began to undress. First his gloves, then his coat and tie, before beginning to unbutton his shirt. “This isn’t personal, little bird. For what it’s worth, I actually do hope you survive this. It will make it… That much more satisfying to me if you do. I hate it when my pets give in too easily.” He gave her body a thorough glance over and she realized that she was completely bare to his view. “Of course, I recognize that you’re already weakened, which curbs what I can do… But I promise we’ll still have some fun.” As he reached the last of his buttons, he removed the shirt, but nothing else.
Any relief she might have felt at him not continuing to undress faded rapidly as he unclicked the latch on his briefcase and brought his first tool to the light.
Naj slammed back into his skull, panting from the memory. Illusion? It had to be. Nica hadn’t been separated from them for that long… But demonkin weren’t bound by the mundane laws of the mortal plane. Though he shuddered to think it, Nica could have lived a thousand lifetimes by now, locked in the prison of her mind.
He knew none of this was real, but it was a fine point to mince. Bodies healed much faster than the mind, and the mental damage being inflicted was very, very real. In his experience, it was actually harder to heal memories that your body told you never happened, to the point that the mind would inflict phantom pains to realign the boy with its perceptions. No, physically real or not, Nica was being tortured, and Naj had to break it. Without the protection of frail flesh, the mind could be tormented for far, far longer.
He closed his eyes and took a deep, centering breath, drawing in on himself, shutting out illusory distractions. Sharing Nica’s mental landscape wouldn’t help him free her of it. There would be no convenient clue, no shining weak point to attack—her prison would soundly secure, and any hope offered therein would be false, only meant to tease.
In the inky stillness of his soul, there was ice, and he would use it. He touched the pure power within him, and realized it was a dull echo of what had been with his master provided the true connection to Il’Dao. Naj was a serpent, a cobra even, and the heart of his soul was fire. But in this place that he went to for strength, there was still the channel that housed the power as it passed through him. Ghosts of it remained, like a song hangs in the air long after the dancers have fallen into repose.
It was enough. He could use it.
In which a message is sent.
Kain’s eyes followed the serpent’s movements as he kept his low conversation going with Nica. It was nothing important, mostly her trying to fill the air between them with trivial things such as needing to call the tailor. He knew there was something she wanted to talk to him about, but didn’t want to speak of with an audience. Her slowing footsteps gave her away.
Kain, however, was more interested in the serpent in front of him. He wanted to do a little more poking around before his worry got the better of him. It wouldn’t be prudent to start a conversation and give away too much of his own hand.
A twinge against his aura made him frown slightly and he glanced back at the warded door to the upstairs. He turned his gaze back towards Naj, thoughts spinning on themselves.
Feeling Nica’s confusion begin at his side, he glanced at Nica’s bare arms, forcing a small frown. “Didn’t you have an over shirt on when you came upstairs?”
Nica paused, blinking a few times in rapid succession as her thoughts suddenly changed direction. “I did… Probably left it by the stage.”
“Ah, well, I can run back and get that for you if you like.” Kain kept his voice bland, but he watched her eyes narrow. She wasn’t buying it for a moment.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll grab it.” With a small, thoughtful frown, she turned and headed back up the stairs.
Naj stiffened at the snagging of the ward, hoping his overflowing aura wasn’t the cause. He’d honestly never thought anything wrong with the practice of carrying elemental power in his aura, but after today…
No, it wasn’t him. Something… bigger that he was was at work here. He glanced behind, eyes finding Kain’s in the dark. Only Kain’s. Nica was gone. Naj stretched out his awareness as much as he dared. Nica’s energy was muted again—or had it never actually recovered? He’d felt the ki’n of the nest swarm around her during the show, but had it been unable to stick to her for some reason?
Could that reason have anything to do with her eijye?
Her eijye, who was conveniently blocking the path back upstairs. Who was not so subtly herding them all downstairs. Who had given him and Nica who-knew-what concoctions not once but twice in the past few hours, and Naj was only now beginning to question that? Stupid stupid stupid.
Marie pulled at his arm, stopping when he had. Naj didn’t even spare her look, eye fixed on Kain.
Kain stopped in the middle of the stairwell, turning from Nica’s vanishing back to Marie and Naj. The pair were looking up at him with curiosity and he smiled warmly with a shrug. “She forgot her shirt, she’ll be down in just a moment.”
Nica was preoccupied with Kain’s abrupt dismissal. She couldn’t tell why he’d wanted to be rid of her, but on the heels of this morning… Her pride would hardly let her stay. He hadn’t been listening to her anyway. Which was probably just as well, it hadn’t been terribly important. She should have just mentally nudged him for a private conversation about Naj, she just hadn’t wanted to risk Naj overhearing her.
Her shirt lay on the far side of the stage where she’d tossed it and her stride carried her most of the way across it before she was suddenly aware she wasn’t alone.
For a split second, she thought that a customer had been lurking after close, or that perhaps the door hadn’t been locked and someone had mistaken the time. All of it impossible, but what she found waiting for her seemed so much more impossible.
Dev had never described Azriel. Not in looks anyway, but the fear that underscored her voice when she mentioned him… There was no one else this could be.
He was dressed in a well-tailored suit and tie, the cut of which framed his lean body perfectly. Darkness was the perfect description for him, from his hair to every aspect of his clothing, including the gloves he tugged on with a smile. Only his pale skin gave any relief to it, and his eyes glittered like ice beneath heavy lashes.
Her mouth ran dry as he took a step forward, smoothing one hand down the front of his jacket. His footsteps were silent as he approached the stage.
Even as Naj realized the danger, it was too late. Nica’s suddenly diminished aura just as suddenly vanished, and he reacted without a thought. With a blast of heavy darkness, Naj rushed the much larger man, shoving his way past to take the stairs back to the main floor.
Kain’s attention was on the ward behind him and he was unprepared for the wall of power that hit him. Stupid to be caught off guard, but for all the Dai were known for, obvious and blatant attacks weren’t among them. There was a gasp from Marie behind him and Kain took the stairs three at a time to catch up to the serpent.
Azriel glanced down at her shirt as he passed it, then carefully ascended each of the three steps. Her chin lifted as he made an obvious show of looking her up and down.
“You must be… Nica.” His voice was soft and sultry, but there was something within it that made her heartbeat quicken. Nothing so obvious she could put her finger on, but she suddenly understood Dev’s fear. This was a man that logic and reasoning could not sway. Dev had once said he was insane and with just that innocent sentence, Nica believed her.
He continued as if she’d answered him, tilting his head slightly as his eyes drifted down again. “A hawk… With feathers like blood and a heart that falls as quickly as your animal form does.” His lips quirked. “Oh, perhaps that’s a falcon. Forgive me, feathers are all the same to me sometimes.”
Swallowing back the knot of fear, she ignored him. Ignored the twisting of her stomach and urge to run. There would be no outrunning him. And screaming would only bring the other dancers. There was nothing she could do but hope to distract him enough to spare them. Dev had described him as easily distracted, flighty even.
“What do you want, Azriel?” Her voice was breathier than she liked, but her voice carried across the stage.
The demon’s eyes were suddenly on hers and Nica found herself wishing he’d go back to studying her body. His smile changed, the wicked edge to it turning her stomach.
“I suppose it’s only fair that you know my name if I know yours.” Her eyes widened when he vanished. “I’ve always found names fascinating,” His voice purred into her ear and she fought not to move, “such intimate things when you think about it. A string of letters, syllables, to define and shape a person, so that I can hold all you are on just my tongue alone.”
The sound that followed forced her eyes closed. She would not run, she would not scream. It took all her willpower simply to stay still. She hoped she was strong enough to do the same if he actually touched her.
The stage was empty.
It hadn’t been a moment ago. Naj knew he’d seen Nica standing and talking with… well, with something. His mind had slid around the shape, knowing something was there but unable to gather any details about it. It was almost as if the presence hadn’t made a decision one way or another about how present it actually wanted to be.
Then Nica had named it, and disappeared as well.
Naj knew the stage wasn’t empty. There was too much emptiness for it to be anything but an illusion. He’d felt the lingering ki’n that had seeped into the boards, smelled the combined perfume of so many different bodies, tasted the many hours of practice and performance that hung heavy in the space. All of that had vanished with Nica.
Which told Naj both she and the demon were still there.
What it didn’t tell him was if “Azriel” was a strong enough name to bind any spellwork to the creature. Naj had a lifetime of options at his fingertips, but nearly all of them were too strong to risk without knowing for a fact that they would effect his intended target and only his target. Likely as not, his familiarity with Nica would override the tenuous connection “Azriel” would make with the demon, and he’d blast his eija to oblivion—or worse. No, he couldn’t risk most of his options in this current situation.
But that didn’t mean he was helpless, either.
“I came to deliver a message to Devin.” Nica’s eyes opened a touch too wide to find Az standing across the stage again, amusement clear in his eyes.
“A message.” It wasn’t a question. She was going to be sick.
He twirled a gloved hand in the air, turning on a heel to gaze out at the rest of the club. Her heart was pounding hard enough that it skipped a beat and she watched his head twitch as if he’d heard it.
“I prefer hawks to parrots.” His hands slowly crossed behind his back, clasping to show pale skin between cuff and glove. A strange shadow drew her attention there, but it flickered away before she could make sense of it.
He was teasing her and her pride couldn’t even find the strength to be angry. Her thoughts kept turning back to the nest below her, where her dancers would be laughing and jostling to find places in the Great Room for movie time. She prayed that Fate would be kind and spare them, let her be the only sacrifice needed tonight.
A hand wrapped around her throat, stealing all her air between one breath and the next. The leather pinched her skin and her eyes widened…
To find Azriel standing several feet away, watching her with a frown. One hand was fisted at his side, but relaxed the moment she glanced at it. Her own hand twitched with the urge to touch her neck, sore from a coming bruise. There was a faint scent of dust and a strange musk on the air. If it weren’t for that, she’d wonder if she’d imagined it.
“I think you’ll be a suitable messenger, don’t you?” His tone was oddly somber, undertones she couldn’t begin to understand threading beneath it.
It took her two tries to say it, but she finally rasped, “Yes.”
His expression immediately brightened, then a nasty smile began to grow. “I was hoping you would say that.”
Her world went dark, his words fading into the background, but she thought she heard him add, “We’re going to have so much fun together.”
In which things get a bit out of hand.
As the last act ended, they stayed where they were sitting, letting the crowd empty out. She’d always enjoyed watching the crowd as they began to come down off the high of the performances. Some of the staggering was from alcohol, but the excitement was always genuine.
Whispering behind her grabbed her attention and she turned in time to hear someone say her name. There was a pair of gentlemen standing a few feet back, staring,t hen grinning when they saw her face them.
“I told you it was her!” The taller man said, elbowing his companion in excitement.
A smile automatically fit her lips and she raised expectant eyebrows. She was actually surprised no one had said anything prior to this, but then, she had been gone quite a while.
“It is Nica, isn’t it?” He asked when she didn’t say anything.
She nodded and his grin grew. “Knew it! I might not have recognized you, but I knew anyone dressed like that,” He gestured towards Naj, “Probably worked here and the only girl I knew that worked here with hair like yours was you.”
His friend’s amusement at his babbling was fading as he glanced at his watch. It was late for most people, the show having run into the late evening/early morning hours.
He knew his time was running out and the speed of his talking quickened. “You’re going to be on stage for Blue Moon, right?”
Nica barely had a chance to nod before he continued. “Alright! I’ve got some friends who’re real fans of yours, I’ll be sure to let them know!”
His friend drew him away and she heard something low about wings and drums. She frowned only a bit after them, not recognizing the gentleman. It would be silly to expect to recognize every customer, but Blue Moon nights required a special pass to get into the club. She’d thought she’d known everyone with one. At least she should have been able to pin down what sort of supe he was.
She shook her head, disoriented by the encounter. When she caught Naj’s eye, she smiled. “It was bound to happen sometime tonight.”
Naj wondered if his face was that obviously lost, or it she was just being polite. The conversation had gone so quickly, with so many comments going over his head—what was wrong with Nica’s hair? The feathers were long gone… He knew his clothes were more of a costume in this day and age, but he’d been so comfortable he’d forgotten he’d stand out, until someone commented on it. And while he remembered Blue Moon being mentioned, he’d forgotten exactly what that meant.
He didn’t know what to make of the whole exchange, so he stuck to familiar ground.
“Are you feeling better?”
She took a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly as she felt the extent of her aura. Nica did feel better, fuller, warmer… She could lose the overshirt, but she’d wait until she was at least on the main floor.
“I am feeling better.” She smiled, pleased to realize it.
He’d stored up more than he himself needed, in case Nica hadn’t been able to draw enough on her own. He needn’t have worried. She was the heart of this nest, and it had gladly returned itself to her. He’d find a use for his back-up stores, or they’d dissipate naturally if no need presented itself. Part of it was surely powering his radiating joyful aura.
He sat in a happy bubble, watching the people around him, nearly drunk on the good feelings they exuded. There was a general flow towards the doors, and Naj found he couldn’t remember what came next. He looked to Nica, smile still spread over his face.
“Now what?” he asked cheerfully.
“Now we wait for the last few to trickle out so we can start shutting the club down.” She glanced towards the stairs, frowning slightly when she realized the third floor had been cordoned off. Were they that slow tonight?
Pulling her gaze away from the stairs, she looked around the now empty second floor. “We’ll head down and grab some rags, but the floor’s mostly clean up here – wipe tables and chairs, stack them, and a good sweep and mop should be all that’s needed.”
He settled back with a happy sigh, basking in the warmth that still radiated up from the ground floor. It was more intense this much closer than he was used to, but the familiarity helped soothe a knot between his shoulders he hadn’t noticed was there. He’d been on edge since they’d woken up, maybe even before then, but he was finally relaxing.
The time to answer Nica had passed. He’d forgotten that little social nuance, but she didn’t seem to mind. Nica seemed the sort of woman not to waste words, and if she had something to say, Naj was confident she would. So they watched the crowd dissipate in silence, Naj waiting for her cue that it was time to clean.
Nica watched Kain help a man who was especially unstable on his feet. She didn’t recognize him and the familiarity with which Kain treated him didn’t help. A regular? She barely remembered most of their regulars anymore. It was an unsettling feeling, but perhaps she just needed to get back into the swing of things for it all to come back.
The pair of them moved towards the door and she knew Kain would have a cab already waiting outside for him. They were down to the stragglers, the few who were settling up tabs and the friends who were so busy talking they didn’t realize they were last to go. She didn’t see anyone that was lingering unnecessarily though, and she was a little relieved to see that no one was skulking about in the hopes of seeing a dancer after the show. Those were typically the most unpleasant encounters.
She stood, stretching her back and letting her feathers mingle in her hair again. She glanced down to Naj. “Ready?”
Naj hopped up brightly with a nod, still buzzing with pent-up energy, though the high of audience had faded with their departure. He shivered when Nica pulled feathers, having spent enough time bathed in their mingling auras to feel the shift. It was prickly, but then soothing, like an itch finally scratched. It reminded Naj a bit of shedding, and his skin rippled in sympathetic goose flesh. He rubbed his arms to chase away the phantom chill then followed Nica down the stairs.
Dancers emerged from backstage as they came downstairs, most in casual clothes, some in various pieces of costume, all still bearing their smiles and bits of make-up.
Kain appeared at their side with some rags and spray bottles. Just as Nica was about to ask Naj if he wanted to work on the upstairs or downstairs, Ro jogged by calling out, “Got the stairs!”
She chuckled, glancing over at Naj. “You want to help up there or down here?”
“Does it matter?” he asked, bewildered. He didn’t do well with choices, and he felt the first stirrings of panicked indecision.
Before either she or Kain could answer, there was a high pitched keening that instinctively made Nica brace herself. As it came closer, the sound resolved into a drawn out syllable of her name. A small tanned bundle bowled into her and her arms automatically wrapped to catch it.
With a breathless laugh, she shook her head. “Hi, Chris.”
His face buried itself in her cleavage and she sighed, jostling his weight so he’d know she was about to drop him. Catching himself lightly on his feet, he grinned up at her, arms wrapping around her again to squeeze hard enough that she nearly lost her breath again.
“You can’t ever leave me again, Ni.” His voice was muffled against her skin and she ruffled his hair affectionately.
“I missed you to-” “Missed your breasts too much.” Their words collided and with a snort she pushed the smaller man back a step.
He grinned up at her, green eyes twinkling with mischief.
A rag caught Chris by the face and his impossibly wide grin grew as Kain pointed to the bar. “Go clean something, jackal.”
With a cackle that echoed to the rafters, the small man was off, darting rather than moving. Nica couldn’t help but laugh. She knew that Chris was more mirth than serious, always looking for an easy laugh to keep moods around him high. He could be alarmingly somber though, if he thought no one was looking. She was glad he’d made the joke and shaking her head, she glanced back to Naj.
“That was Chris, you’ll get used to him.”
He’d been half-frozen with panicky indecision. The shriek of a wail drove him completely into serpent stillness, he stood and watched the scene unfold from the shadows he’d drawn about himself. Nica’s comment brought him back to life, and he flushed guiltily at his flagrant show of power. How had he come so dependent on power? And how had he not noticed it? To draw the dark earthiness around him without a thought–
Earthiness? His brow furrowed, but it was true. He hadn’t drawn on the dark shadows of his usual habit—he’d hidden himself with the deep secretive powers of the earth. Which meant that somewhere, something had an abundance of it to spare. The gardens maybe? Nica had said the door was warded, but that didn’t mean it was completely cut off…
Naj visibly shook himself, bringing his attention back to Nica’s questioning look.
Kain was glad that Nica was so caught up in Chris and then Naj that he had time to school his features. He knew his expression had blanked when Naj had pulled against his aura. That was a new one.
He’d had nestmates that could feel his magic, but to have one usurp it without any warning… A little pocket of ice was forming in his chest. He was Dai. Tool or not, the training was obvious. And the disregard with which he’d used that training so far…
Nica was completely oblivious to it. Born a century after the Dai fell, there was no reason for her to recognize it. Perhaps he should have a word with Naj in private, before this became a resurgence of the Dai empire…
Surely he was simply being paranoid. The Dai had fallen, he’d watched them fall, had made sure they would not rise again to their previous heights.
Fate had a sense of humor to have brought a practicing Dai into his nest after all this time.
Kain smiled as Nica’s attention turned his way and he realized they’d been talking of cleaning chores. He handed off the rags and cleaner he was still holding and the pair of them began wiping down tables.
He watched them for a moment more, then turned away. Nat caught his eye, raising an elegant eyebrow. He shook his head. Her shrug was barely existent and Marie tugged at her arm, excitedly chattering about something.
Kain went to finish closing down the bar, keeping his thoughts to himself.
Naj threw himself into the business of cleaning, focusing on the circular motion of wiping. He scowled as he realized he’d been building a banishment with his pattern, and he wiped a harsh zig zag over the table’s surface. But even that was a traditional motion of negating, drawing on the character for zt, the sign for “no”. Working himself into a fine temper, he set to work on the next table, cleaning in it long, steady lines from top to bottom, focusing intently on not focusing at all.
Nica settled into a familiar rhythm. Two years hadn’t erased it and she fell into the task with a smile. It was meditative enough that she didn’t realize someone had started up some music. Nor did she realize she was singing along, voice rising and falling with her motion.
This was home. Life and warmth in the air around her, in her ears, heart, vibrating along her skin.
The song changed and she followed along, pleased when she realized she knew the songs. She grew more mindful of her voice, letting it fill her chest.
She moved from table to table, song to song, only looking up when she realized that several dancers were clustered near her, grinning like fools.
Nica raised an eyebrow, but couldn’t hide her own smile. As the music faded back down, she waved her rag at them. “Don’t you guys have work to do?”
It was Chris who laughed. Gesturing around, he drew her attention to all the clean tables and empty bar. “Done and done!”
She realized that the table she’d been working on was one of the last. With a shake of her head, she finished. “Alright, alright. Show’s over.”
There was a chorus of exaggerated groans and she rolled her eyes, catching Nat’s grin. Someone called out, “Jukebox time!”
Nat stepped in before Nica could protest. “Nica deserves more than one day to rest, come on guys, how about a movie instead?”
Chris jumped in, talking up some movie he’d picked up on the way home. The crowd dispersed with much laughter and debate. From what she understood, someone else had a different movie they wanted to watch.
She was glad for the distraction. While she enjoyed Jukebox time, a tradition of dancing and singing after a show to blow off some of the leftover energy… She didn’t quite feel up to it tonight.
Nica looked around at the thought, finding Naj to give him a smile. It widened when she saw Marie as well.
Naj gave Nica a little wave, with the arm Marie had left him. She was thoroughly wrapped around the other. She’d found him too far in thought, softly teasing him that he was taking the finish off the table he was working on. After Nica’s quiet intensity, Marie’s open simplicity was most welcome. She was surprisingly subdued from what he’d come to expect of her, but that was welcome too. Maybe, getting up early with him had taken its toll. He almost hoped so—he hated to have worn her out, but he would love to curl up with her and Nat again.
The dancers were moving with a purpose towards the downstairs, and Naj swept his free arm gracefully in their direction, turning to Marie with a smile. “Shall we?”
Marie snuggled against Naj’s arm, smiling when Nica looked their way. She looked relaxed, an easiness to it that reminded Marie everything was alright. It was that smile that had always told her as a child that everything would work out. No matter what happened, Nica would smile and everything would be alright, even if it took a little time.
Marie squeezed Naj’s arm, glad to feel him against her. The sensation combined with the safe feeling of having Nica back and she fought back a yawn. If she curled up with him for the movie, she was going to fall asleep.
Which sounded perfect right now.
She nodded at his invitation and they followed everyone else going downstairs. Nica and Kain trailed after them, talking softly among themselves.
Naj strained to hear the low voices behind him. But the pair was clearly used to having hushed conversations, because he couldn’t make out a thing. Not even a vague emotional impression.
He realized he’d been slowing when he felt Marie pulling away from him. She turned to him with the beginnings of a questioning look, which he dodged with a polite comment about enjoying her dance that evening. She beamed up at him, babbling happily about dancing with him again sometime, but Naj’s attention was as fixed on the pair behind him as he could manage without giving himself away.