**A Lost Tale**
Disclaimer: The Night World is owned by Lisa Jane Smith. Characters are owned my insane brain!
Rating: The reason I have put one of these in here is because this is an action story. There's lots of fighting, moderately bad language, but only because of the impact it has. Please don't read this if you know you are too young. You have been warned.
Author's Note: Finally! I'd written this a while back, but I was just waiting for some reviews to come in. Thank you so much to all who reviews, ( I was sitting there, reading them with a huge grin on my face *lol*). You are all fantastic and detrimental to my health *lol*. I guess I got a little carried away with this part, as it's very long, but I hope you're enjoying it. I'll start working on the next part on Wednesday and have it out hopefully within a week.
Again, PLEASE review! I need those views to shape this story into a good one! Please comment and make me happy!! *lol*
Sharmeen: *blush* Thank you so much for the fantastic review, and yes, I used a black main character because 1) it is a change from the Buffy-look-alike I see (*lol*) and 2) I need Sierra for, perhaps, a spin –off story one day. But thanks and keep R/R!
Penguin: *lol* I knew you'd like that. Sorry this one isn't so actiony but it has a few tiny kernels. The next part should have some action, but to be completely honest, I have no clue where this story is going. I'm just kinda sitting down and writing. But thanks and please keep reading!
Arylle Gamere: *grins ridiculously* Thanks so much! Wow, am loving these reviews! Please keep reading, I love to hear your views, so please keep them coming!
Medusa Descoudres: *laughs* Thank you! Enjoy this part, and keep reading! I love the fact that you're loving it!
Enjoy!
A Lost Tale:
Chapter Eight:
~My soul is empty and then it fills~
~My heart reaches out and then it kills~
"Remind me why I have to do this again?" I ask, turning away from the full-length mirror, disgusted with my appearance.
Topaz looks at me, her eyes so large and luminous that they seem gateways to her soul. She smiles absently as she checks her look again in the mirror. "Do I look okay?" she asks, tugging at her topaz-coloured dress that ends in ruffles, six inches up from her knees. The neckline is deep and daring, showing off her thick, diamond necklace. On her hands and wrists glitter more diamonds.
I smile at her nervousness. Who said only humans suffered from that feeling? "You look perfect," I say, understanding her emotions. Tonight we are off to a party, combining both Daybreakers and Night Worlders. It is supposed to be a truce – albeit temporarily – and Amrick, Topaz's soulmate, has invited us both. The soulmates have not seen each other in weeks, although I fail to see why I should come too.
"Again – why do I have to be there?" I repeat.
I do not want to go.
Why should I? There is a brittle feeling inside me, as if I'll snap at any moment. My nights are filled with dreams of eyes so black and hair so wonderfully tousled I itch to run my hands through the locks. I wake gasping, only to relish falling back asleep.
And during the day…during the day I see his face everywhere.
I wish I was blind, but I have a sneaking suspicion that that would make no difference whatsoever.
Topaz turns away from the mirror and faces me, answering my question. "Because we need to get out. Because we have stayed inside for long enough. Because, Si—" she pauses, her eyes searching mine. "Si, you're not you."
My heart constricts at her words – but what can I say?
She shakes her head then abruptly her face clears and she laughs wickedly. "And because we're the two most notorious Night World assassins, and we need to make an entrance."
I chuckle, the laughter releasing something in me. Topaz laughs with me, passing me my jewellery case where I select my onyx necklace and matching bracelet. My hair I run a brush through, leaving it down.
Simplicity is the best method. I hear.
For an added look I tousle my hair, then briefly finger-comb it down. In the mirror, my vampiric beauty stares back.
If I do say so myself, I look stunning.
But in my intensely brown eyes, there is a sadness etched so deep that I have to breathe and close my eyes.
Topaz touches my shoulder. "Let's go."
I nod, and we leave the apartment. Outside, a black, stretch limousine awaits us. Who said Night Worlders can't do it in style?
We get in, giggling like two human seventeen year olds, the excitement catching us up.
We guzzle champagne as we lean back – the alcohol doing absolutely nothing for us – and the outside world whizzes us by. As we draw nearer and nearer, I see Topaz checking herself once again in the mirror and I can't help but laugh.
She is so cute.
We pass the river and momentarily my excitement is dampened as I think back to three weeks ago, when I had been ready to end it all. And I have not had this impulse since the days I met Topaz, my crazy days, when I tried to kill myself at least several times a day.
But never over someone else.
The days had blended into years and centuries and millennia, and then I could not deal with it.
But now…now it is over someone else.
Damn you, Drake Blackthorn, I think as I briefly close my eyes. Damn you.
For a brief moment I wonder if he thinks of me, if he has this same yawning chasm in him as I do…
But oh, why do I care?
And yet…yet I can't help but remember his eyes as he had leaned toward me and the fire and power in that gaze…those lips that caressed and kissed with such a mesmerising touch…those arms that were steel bands lined with velvet as they held me, hugged me, cradled me…
I shiver in the limousine, drawing my arms around myself and shaking my head.
I am becoming a sap in my old years.
"Come on!" Topaz says and I realise that we have arrived at the mansion. Topaz pops out before the chauffeur comes around and I have to laugh.
She is so excited.
I exit gracefully, looking every inch the sleek African huntress – but none like Sierra Rion, Master Assassin.
Although I'm sure many can recognise me, I doubt they would try anything here. The news of what I did to Vlad and their friends has spread like wildfire and added to my reputation –though I need it not.
We are treated to a red carpet and as I slide into the beautifully decorated mansion, I realise that I do not want to be there.
But Amrick has seen us already and he coming toward us and I'm stuck.
Damn.
Of course I lose Topaz immediately. She takes one look at her soulmate and she is off, disappearing into the taller guy's arms. There is a desperate fragility in the way they're holding each other and suddenly I remember his age. He'd turned eighteen a few weeks back.
Oh.
Of course. I'm sure Amrick has reservations against being turned into a vampire, considering both his parents were brutally murdered by vampires who'd hated witches. But in another year he will pass the age limit and be unable to change, and then what will Topaz do?
I know it would kill her, should he die before her.
And he will. She is almost eight millennia old, already.
Staring at them, I realise for the first time what they feel. Reminders of my own predicament bring the melancholy crashing down again. I grit my teeth for a moment, anger so fierce it's a physical hurt surging against myself.
Then I sigh and walk away from the sight in front of me, walking toward one of the balconies. For the moment, it is empty – but I know pretty soon it will be filled with Night World couples making out. Somewhere in the house I can hear beautiful classical music starting.
I smile as I lean against the railing, the night air playing a game with my hair. The Night World parties never change; first the older, more powerful vampires circulate the area, the younger ones vying for attention. And when the leaders disappear – either to a conference, or each with their human prize – the younger ones go downstairs to the basement where the real party begins.
I grin.
And although I am one of the older ones, I am not a leader…so I party with people of my own appearance.
Tonight I should definitely make an appearance, as Topaz had suggested – although not for her reason.
Of course I had not told her about Drake Blackthorn and I. How could I? How could I tell her that I have a soulmate, after expressively denying being with Drake Blackthorn? How could I let her know that he wanted me, that he would kill both her and Devon to get to me?
And yet…I know I would kill him should he do that.
No one messes with my friends.
Rubbing my head, I wish I could go home and lie down. But, fool that I am, I am in Las Vegas, instead of New York. I am at a party that I do not want to be at, smiling at people I would kill in an instant, should I meet them anywhere else.
Still. I cannot go. Along with the boost to my reputation, another rumour is going on. Apparently I am dead. This is not unusual. Every once in a while, someone 'does away' with me and I have to show my face to say I am still here, still alive.
Then I kill whoever started the rumour.
This party is just a place where I can find a lot of information, so easily. There is too much I have let go, since my supposed insanity. Too many think I have let The Triad go.
I grin at the name as the volume of the music increases.
The Triad. The three most lethal assassins this side of anywhere. Topaz, Devon and I.
The oldest, I was the first lethal assassin. At first, I started this job because I was angry, and I could get paid for venting that anger. And I would take any job, anywhere in the world, doing anything, killing in any method possible.
There are quite a few times I died almost myself.
But over the years, I have met every race and species and killed some of the worst creatures in this world.
And then Topaz joined and we became the Two. When Devon joined the Triad became.
I wonder what Incia, Devon's soulmate, thinks of his job. I have a sneaking suspicion he hasn't told her. I have a sneaking suspicion she knows.
I shake myself slightly, stirring myself out of memories that once were painful but now are welcomed. Anything apart from this pain!
Damn! Why did I have to think about him?
Gritting my teeth, I force my thoughts to think about what I came out here to do. A final third thing awaits me. I hear someone is looking for me. Apparently dangerous and I wonder if it's the new council leader. The council had been after me for a while, trying to get me to make up my mind and join them. They want me to pick off Daybreakers.
On top of Topaz probably killing me if I upset Amrick – I grin at the thought – I do not go after Daybreakers. They have enough to worry about.
No. And to emphasise that, I sent back the assassin they sent me. Of course, I sent him back in separate pieces.
It had been a pleasure. As meeting whoever is looking for me, will be.
For a brief, exhilarating moment I wonder if it is him, if he is searching for me.
But I dismiss that in a second. Really, he knows where I am. Who I am. He can easily find me, or Topaz, or even Devon.
Unlike last time, everyone knows where I am.
Turning, I look back at the doorway. The noise level has increased, and I realise everyone must be here. Suddenly, my vampiric ears pick up an unearthly booming and it is a second before I realise that it is coming from the basement.
I must have been standing here for hours, immersed in thought.
A second later, a shifter couple comes through the door, kissing. They're so involved in each other they almost fall.
Shaking my head and grinning, I leave to give them privacy, stepping back into the room.
The upper area in the house is decorated in red tones, from almost orange to a deep burgundy and everything in between. There are witches, vampires, shapeshifters and 'wolves everywhere. For once, Daybreakers and Night Worlders are mixing, and there are no problems – apart from hostile glances left and right.
I spend a mere second glancing about for Topaz but I dont see her. I am not surprised if I do not see her at the party in the basement. She has probably disappeared with Amrick.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder, I hear.
I walk away from the main room, led toward noise in another room. When I enter this one, I realise it is a ballroom and there are far, far more people here. Classical music is still playing and I realise the party in the basement must have begun only minutes ago.
I am itching to get down there and dance off my frustrations, but duty is duty.
I stroll into the room, for once employing my vampiric grace. It is almost as if I float across the floor, fifteen millennia worth of power and muscle gracing my body.
I am drawing attention. Good.
Now, who said I was dead?
I don't look dead. Glancing sideways, I catch my reflection in a mirror. For a moment, I study myself. I am wearing a pure white halter that leaves my arms bare and is tight on my upper body, flaring in a skirt that almost reaches my knees in a series of wide ruffles. It is Latino-type dress, its neckline almost as daring as Topaz's. The back plunges down, almost to my waist. White sandals grace my feet. The colour looks great on my café-au-lait complexion and my red-brown hair gives it an added mystique.
Tonight, I am dressed to kill.
Then I grin and walk on, getting to the bar where I help myself to a Bloody Mary, which is fast becoming my favourite drink. Sipping slowly, I sit on a barstool, surveying the area.
Oh yes. I can see the potential for trouble already. Some guys in a corner – vampires, I'd guess – are watching me, talking quickly amongst themselves. I wonder why they're not conferring mentally and then I realise – a mental voice here would be like screaming it out. With so many of us assembled, the only way to have privacy is to speak as quietly as possible.
One of them – seeming the leader – with blond-black hair is watching me the most intently, his eyes burning into me. And just to be perverse, I lift my glass at him and smile. For a moment I bunch all my mental power, concentrating hard.
Then I slide a single fang out, baring it in a one-sided, feral grin. The guy blinks and turns away, talking even more quickly.
I laugh to myself as sip my drink. The mood for the evening has been set.
Then there is a small commotion at the door and my head snaps back, watching the door where a blond guy and a girl are locked in a quiet, but intense fight. Then the girl sighs exasperatedly – I can hear her from here – and wrenches her hand from the guy's grip. The girl starts off toward me, wearing black, leather pants and a deep purple halter top.
I watch her advance, recognising immediately she is human. Graceful, but nothing compared to Night Worlders. She has long brown hair and brown eyes, a sweet-looking thing. And then I look at the guy following her and I realise he is a vampire, almost as soon as I realise who he is.
Ash Redfern.
I grin as I sip more of my Bloody Mary, remembering two years ago, when I'd knocked him out because he'd insisted on hitting on me.
So. If that's Ash Redfern, what is he doing with a human girl? She doesn't look as if she's under influence as she storms onto me and stops in front of me, squaring her shoulders.
"Hey," she says, suddenly seeming unsure.
"Hi," I reply drolly, giving her an assessing look. Before I can ask her who she is, Ash shows up.
"Mare," he says angrily, "I thought you were going to behave?"
"Sshh!" she says expressively, waving a hand at him. Then she turns to me. "Are you Sierra Rion?"
I stare at her for a second, then I give up the mental battle. "Who wants to know?" I ask, although she would have attacked me already had. The thought makes me grin inside.
Imagine. A human killed a Triad.
"I'm Mary…" she says, pausing and glancing at Ash. He has a stoic expression on his face, anger peaking as he looks at me.
"Hi, Ash," I say sweetly. "How's the wrist?" I'd snapped it on our previous meeting.
Mary's eyes darken as she looks from one to the next. "Do you know each other?" she asks.
"No," says Ash.
"Yes," I say, grinning widely.
Ash doesn't look at me, but touches her bare arm and for a moment it is as if a secret communication passes between the two – and then I groan.
Not more soulmates!
Damnation take it, because I can't!
Angry, I clear my throat and they both look at me. "Cute as though this may be; can I help you?"
Mary grins and says, "I hear you're the one that killed Vladimir. Is that right?"
Slowly, I grin. Feral and dangerous and Mary steps back as for a moment, my age shines through my eyes. Ash has drawn nearer his soulmate and is watching me with hawkish, silver eyes. "Yes," I say slowly. "Problem?"
Mary surprises me by grinning. "No. He got exactly what he deserved." She glances down then up at me. "Thanks." Briefly she touches my hand then walks off, leaving Ash.
"A soulmate, Ash?" I say, tutting. "Wonders never cease."
Ash just shakes his head, and leans forward. "Vlad tried it on with Mary some weeks back. Because you killed him, I'm grateful." He lifts a hand to stop me speaking. "I know you didn't do it for us, but still. So, I'm telling you to be careful. Someone is here today, looking for you."
I lift an eyebrow; pleased he's helping me and surprised that whoever is looking for me is actually here. This makes my job easier.
"They're dangerous, and even a Triad is going to need some help. Some Daybreakers are around, just yell 'Hahna!' and they'll jump all over who's bothering you." Ash is silent for a moment, then fixes me with a look. "Thanks."
He lopes off after his girlfriend who is waiting for him and I am surprised. Daybreakers are helping me? Could it be because of Amrick?
Shaking my head I finish my drink, the blood in it giving me an extra boost and I hop off my chair, watching Ash embrace his girlfriend and lead her away.
I shake my head. Ash Redfern and a soulmate.
Sierra Rion and a soulmate.
I bet the Fates are laughing their heads off right about now, I think sourly as I leave the room. I think about the so-called codeword. Wasn't Hannah, Thierry's soulmate called Hahna once?
Ah, sometimes I can't keep up.
The house seems emptier, and the noise from downstairs is more and more appealing. I go toward the stairs, following a pair of sleek panther girls as they laugh in their husky, slightly purring way.
The basement door is a large metal door with a cat scratch on it. I am surprised; are they using a shifter's house?
Wonders never cease. It seems this time they really want to chill and have a good time.
"Hey babes," the doorman says and the girls laugh as they pass him. He turns toward me, the same greeting coming out of his lips, "Hey ba—" and then he freezes, getting a good look at me. "Miss Rion," he says, his voice slightly trembling. A surge of triumphant power goes through me and I smile.
"Who's here?" I ask.
"The Triad," he says quickly, his eyes drawn to my hands. He's probably thinking of the way I snapped hundreds of heads so far. I only smile again, as I ask, "The girl?"
"No…the guy from Silverthorne."
Devon, I think. "Alone?"
The guard nods.
"Who else?"
He is nervous, swallowing. And suddenly I am tired of people who mince their words and I step closer, for once not masking my voice to be that of an eighteen-year-old. No. I am fifteen millennia and showing it. Suddenly my voice is deep and floaty, its sounds sending shivers down my own back. The guard's eyes are showing white as he backs away. "Who else?" I ask again.
"Others," he says hurriedly. "I-I c-can't say w-who."
Ah. They must have spelled the poor 'wolf.
I sigh and step back. "Very well," I say, indicating he should open the door. He does.
And I step into doom.
The music is deep and unearthly, some sort of mix between European music and void rock, I would guess. There is a distinct emptiness in the sounds, an emptiness that speaks to something inside me. I feel as if I am being pulled toward the dance floor, but I resist easily, frowning, wondering which witch put a spell on the music.
The dance floor is amazing to watch, the Night Worlders' bodies moving so graceful, it is almost like watching fluid limbs.
Flicking my hair off my shoulders, I lift my head and descend the steps down to the floor. There are seats and couches against two sides, tables against another. The rest of the large floor up until the far wall – which is in shadows – is for the dance floor.
The whole array is impressive. There is barely any lighting, most of the lighting focused upward and only blue and red. The look is definitely striking.
To get to the bar, where the seats are, I have to get through the dancing floor. I walk through the heaving bodies; their arms flailing and I feel irritation leap up in me. A guy smiles and grabs me around the waist, hugging me to him and dancing sexily.
Oh, to hell with it.
I grab at his throat, pinching his windpipe shut with two fingers. His air is immediately blocked and he claws at my hand, fighting to inhale.
"Don't touch me," I say softly and push him off. Crashing to the floor, he coughs, inhaling great bursts of air.
Then I walk off, toward the bar where Devon has turned around and is watching my approach with humour in his eyes.
I pluck a kiss on his lips as a greeting and he bumps my shoulder. "What was that?" he asks.
I shrug, requesting a Bloody Mary.
"Another Vlad?" he asks.
"Perhaps. I don't care. He was irritating me."
Devon laughs as he throws his head back, his voice deep and husky. Several females are watching him already.
He is good looking.
But none like another.
"Shut up," I mutter to my thoughts, rubbing my head.
"Si," Devon says, watching me. "Are you okay?"
"Peachy," I mutter. "Let's dance."
Devon smiles but shakes his head. He points toward a nook where some people are sitting. In the dim light I cannot make out who it is, and I realise I don't care.
I want to dance.
Shrugging, I get up. "All right."
Devon gets up too and gives me a hug. Being enveloped in warm arms almost makes me have a breakdown but I manage to keep my emotions in check and only smile at my friend. "Don't leave without me," he says.
"Sure." Turning, I head right into the dance floor, wanting to cry and sob as I begin a slow dance, to an equally slow Latino beat.
When will I ever be free? I admit, I have looked for him, although not as strongly as I should. I could ask Incia to search for him – but the truth that I wish not anyone involved.
This is my trouble.
Dancing hard, I manage to put my troubles out of my mind for a simple few minutes.
Then suddenly the music changes, becoming more of an insistent, urgent beat and it reminds of home, of Africa that had the same drums running through its veins.
I stop right there in the dance floor and put my hand against my forehead, swaying on the spot. Inwardly, I can see my mother's smile, see her scolding my little sister. I smell the deep, earthly smell that always seemed to surround her.
And the music, oh my God, the music. It seems to possess me, drive me insane. It will.
I can't take this!!!
Longing like I haven't experienced for thousands of years sweeps over me, and I feel like crying, screaming and for a moment I wish I was a witch so I could blast the DJ from his cage high up in the air.
The memories…shutting my eyes, I sway, wishing for Devon.
No! I wish for Drake Blackthorn.
Where are you, you jackass? Why aren't you here?
Where are you???
And then, by some miracle that seems greater than cosmos itself, warm arms wrap themselves around me from the back, electricity crackling up my spine as a voice – oh dear God, that voice! – says mesmerisingly, "Here I am."
Oh. Dear. God.
My heart beats so hard and loud I think it will jump out of my skin, and my hands start to shake. He's clasped them in his own hands, and then I turn.
Oh.
His eyes, those eyes! Black with golden specks stare down at me, and a smile curls those luscious lips.
"You wished for me, my lady?"
~*~
He'd noticed her the moment she'd appeared at the door, standing on those stairs like a reincarnation of Nefertiti, the intensity in those brown eyes capturing him all the way in his dark little corner. He'd put the glass of warmed blood down slowly, completely losing the thread of the conversation he was having.
Her hips had swayed seductively as she'd stepped down those stairs, the little scrap of fabric she was wearing making her look so good.
Drake had watched her, leaning back into the dark as she walked across the dance floor. There was something about her, some sort of fragility coated in steel that only he seemed to be able to see.
And then, after only long seconds, the questions had started tumbling around his head.
Why was she here, now? Where had she come from? He'd gone to New York to look for her, but he'd failed in finding her. Everywhere he'd turned, something was blocking him. He could bet it was the remaining members of the Triad she was part of, that Devon Silverthorne; with the soulmate that seemed to be able walk on water. As a witch he knew it was wise not to cross her. And Topaz with the Daybreaker for a soulmate, she was in it as well.
They'd been stopping him, but how was he supposed to get to her and explain that? Their reach seemed to get so far, and even he, a Night World Lord, had had trouble.
And then he'd had to appear at this infernal drivel, stuck here.
But now…now there she was, looking as unearthly as his dreams for the past months.
Oh, but he'd missed her.
Those lips that had kissed his neck…the hands that had hugged so him fiercely and seemed to be able to deliver both pain and a caress so sweet and innocent…
Yesss, he'd missed her.
His eyes dilated to show huge black pupils as he saw the guy that'd touched her, and his anger was so great he had to practically push himself back against the couch before he leapt up and made a fool of himself.
But she dealt with it. He smiled as he saw her reaction.
Then he'd lost that smile as he saw the way she'd greeted that Devon guy. Acid rolled in his stomach as he watched their brief conversation.
What was he laughing about?
Then she was dancing, and Drake lost all pretences and got up, enjoying the sight of the way her body moved. He started toward her, intent on taking this chance.
Then all of a sudden, a punch of memories hit him and they whirled around him, leaving him breathless as he stopped.
She seemed to be having so much of a more trouble, leaning over as she swayed. He feels her pain and his eyes closed for a moment, hearing her scream out his name.
Where are you???
Damn, he thought, breathing and swallowing as he forces one food in front of another.
I'm here.
Now it just depends if she wanted to him.
But he reaches her and – unable to stop himself – he wraps his arms around her, noticing her shock that flared up as he grabs her hands. Just in case she tried to kill him.
"Here I am," he mutters against her ear, unable to stop himself from placing a kiss against her neck. He feels her shiver, then turn with a flourish, those eyes fixed on him.
Keeping his emotions hidden, he glances down at her, smiling sardonically.
"You wished for me, my lady?"
~Lips that cling and kiss and are fire and ice
~And I play with my life as if a dice
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~end~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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