Shahrazád's Ghosts
Chapter 13: Darling (Bella) Part III
2360 A.D.
When [Wendy] expressed a doubtful hope that Tinker Bell would be glad to see her he said, "Who is Tinker Bell?"
"O Peter," she said, shocked; but even when she explained he could not remember.
"There are such a lot of them," he said. "I expect she is no more."
I expect he was right, for fairies don't live long, but they are so little that a short time seems a good while to them.
J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan
oooooo
Darling could feel the lingering, longing gaze of the Pirate when she left him in her changing room. If she had wondered if the complicated blue dress was flattering to her figure, one glance at the man's awestruck face would have removed any question about it. She self-consciously ran her palm over the hair piled on her head and tried to project more confidence than she felt.
Slightly waited for her in the hall, dressed in a tuxedo Augustine had sent for the occasion. Slightly smirked broadly when he saw her, before he took her arm in his.
"You are delectable, my Lady, but you already knew that," he said and he glanced over the layers of straps and ties keeping the evening gown together.
Darling hazarded a quick glare at him, but he only chuckled in response. "You know, if you needed assistance with that dress, all you had to do was ask. I happen to be an expert on women's dresses...though I will admit I have more practice taking them off than putting them back on. However, I can promise you I have more experience than that little Pirate back there. Poor devil. He will be plagued by the very sight of you for years to come, but you rather enjoy that, don't you?"
"Shut it, Slightly," Darling hissed. His answering laughter grated on her nerves further, but she knew any other response she gave him would only encourage him.
"You are cruel, my Lady, " he quipped back. "Are we meeting Augustine at the hotel ballroom?"
"No. He will be in the mezzanine," she answered.
It was not the first time Augustine required her to attend some droll social event, human or vampire. Since the very first time he courted the approval of a city council member to gain greater water access, he had made Darling attend.
"Let me do most of the talking and you can do…well…you can do what you do best, Dulcissima, and drive them all to distraction wishing to know what goes on in your pretty little head," he told her.
It was also not the first time he chose her clothing for her. Ever since he allied himself with Darling, he showered her with clothes and jewelry.
"You cannot satisfy yourself with antiquated and informal American fashion you keep insisting on. Your Volterra garments are even worse. The Volturi wished to keep you invisible, unnoticed by all. No, Dulcissima, you must cast all your old ways behind you. Stop creeping in the shadows and shielding yourself from admiration! I mean to make you into the queen you are meant to be! Come into the light, let all eyes fall upon you, and delight in what they see," he said. His words were accompanied by a trunk full of clothes – from a variety of continents and social circles, just to ensure she was prepared for any and all possible incarnations of her recently acquired imperialness.
She cared little what impression she gave or how many eyes she captured in her carefully cast net. She knew it was all a façade, another way Augustine put her to good use for his own purposes, which, for the moment, still allied with hers. He was usually successful in his efforts and he forced her to speak with more human lynch pins and vampire lords than she could count in his ever-widening web of alliances. It wasn't that he doubted her intelligence or her ability to weave her own webs of intrigue between and around his. On the contrary, he expected it, but he also fully benefited from using her gifts to the utmost…all of them.
After what Augustine later referred to as his "unfortunate incident with his temper," he only mentioned the lapse once, and in the most indirect terms as possible.
"I may have behaved… poorly… during our last meeting," he told Darling, some months later. "It will not happen again."
She nodded and neither mentioned it again. She did not care enough to pry into what it was he wished to accomplish, and he did not care enough to enlighten her. They fell back into their uneasy dance, their mutually convenient companionship, and rarely inquired into the personal affairs of the other.
Augustine spent most of his time near Gabès, Tunisia in an ancient ksar. The cut stone fortress was built partially underground and sat atop a hill from where the glittering waters of the Mediterranean could clearly be seen. Augustine still referred to the city by its Roman name, Tacapes, and Darling suspected he had dwelt there longer than the Volturi had dwelt in Volterra. She met him there, at his behest, a handful of times, but she never invited him to Neverland, once its initial construction was complete. Instead, they most often met in a house he rented in Hedika al-Madina, or the so-called Garden City, that rapidly expanded in the lands around Neverland's subterranean network of caves. Occasionally, he summoned her to Alexandria or Rabat or Abu Dhabi, wherever he had orchestrated events which he felt to be in both of their best interests. She despised these social gatherings, and he knew it, so rarely did he call her out from Neverland to accompany him.
The covens of the Maghreb kept close alliances with the covens of the Mashriq. To a lesser extent, they also kept loose relationships with covens from across southern and central Asia, but, with the exception of those from India, most were small bands without anywhere near the political organization of those of the Maghreb and Mashriq. All of Augustine's allies shared one sworn agreement with each other: all avoided Volterra… and those in communication with Volterra.
Augustine never again asked her for another personal favor. Instead, he orchestrated for any number of "guests" to visit Neverland and "take the waters" there. They paid well. When they failed to pay, they were no longer guests and were sent away. She was never sure if the guests Augustine sent were long time enemies he wished to dispose of, or allies he wished to recruit, but she never bothered to ask.
"It will destroy them," Darling warned, the first time Augustine sent her a "guest". "If they drink all they wish, they will run mad."
"Perhaps," Augustine answered. They never spoke of it again.
Darling, not wishing to depend solely on Augustine's provision of resources, ensured she was self-sustaining by inviting her own "guests" into Neverland. She doubted her invitations were as pointed or intentional as Augustine's. She simply sent Nibs out to gather any nomads he could find who still knew the final resting place of their singers. He was so successful that Neverland only grew, both in size and resources.
Darling never could fully rest easy, however. She knew her relative anonymity and her invisibility to the Volturi could not continue forever. She knew Aro too well for that. One day, he would hear of a foe which made him tremble, and he would compel Darling back to his side. Or, one day, he would hear of the kingdom Darling had built for herself, and that would be enough to make him tremble, and he would come for Darling and all she had made. Aro would do everything in his power to have what she had built. She knew it.
He was not the only one.
Suitors came to her from other ambitious covens. Rumors had spread like wildfire about the elusive vampire queen who was invulnerable to the Volturi and who even Caius feared. Her gifts of protection were as legendary as the underground allegiances she had gathered to herself.
Augustine never gave away the location of Darling's fortress, but he did allow her many admirers to meet with her at his house above ground. The house was sufficiently grand to make her feel like a queen having court and she hated every minute of it. Still, Augustine insisted it was for her benefit to tolerate them. Thus, she sat through obsequious flattery and showers of gifts and pledges of friendship from covens as far abreast as Romania to Turkey to Siberia.
Yet, despite all the admiration and effusions of praise she received, Darling still felt like a mere pawn.
One night, after a full week of hosting an ancient coven from what had once been Persia, Augustine met her in the starlit courtyard of his home in Gabès. She had not removed her false smile or her stiletto heels for five minutes before Augustine came upon her, gazing at the reflection of the moon over the waters.
"You were magnificent, Dulcissima," he whispered. She was startled when she felt the light touch of his fingers weaving through a loose strand of her hair and fiddling with the strap of her dress around her neck. "You are a masterpiece. A work of art."
His hands trailed their way down her back and his head bent to speak quietly into her left ear.
"Come, Darling. Relax. Life is more than hard work and the tedium of politics. Why keep yourself from some of the pleasures you so freely bestow onto others?"
She batted his hand away and moved to put more space between them. It was neither tenderness nor devotion that colored his burgundy eyes.
"These are poisons, not pleasures, slow and deadly. I will have none of it."
He drew closer to her again, his lips falling upon her neck in a tentative dance. "So beautiful," he said, more of an observation than as a statement intended for her to receive, as a patron makes in admiration of a well-crafted statue or carving.
She turned and left, forcing his hand to fall away from her and leaving his lips bereft. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing she found him beautiful as well - as lovely as a lion or a viper. He was using her, the same as everyone else. She was the glass bottle filled with pleasures he would gladly imbibe, and dispose of when he had drunk his fill. She was a means to an end, an accessory to his quest for power, and now he sought a diversion for his carnal desires, and nothing more.
She was not his Darling.
He did not bat an eye the first time she attended an event with Peter the Third on her arm. Instead, he sent appropriate clothes and crafted cover story to include him the next time. When Peter was replaced by Tootles, and then by Slightly, Darling ensured they all appeared to be the same individual and had read all the books that Augustine had recommended and shared all memories of past events and occasions.
Darling felt better knowing she had her own personal guard gleaning from the minds of all in attendance, ready to step in for her in case of problems. Knowing more about the layers of Augustine's plots and schemes was an additional benefit. While she did not think he had a gift as overt as some in the Volturi, he was undeniably gifted. The man was an organizational genius. It was little wonder he had managed to rise in the ranks of the covens of the Maghreb into the position of leader for their entire region. He directed currents of people in the same way the wind moved waves upon the ocean. He was not anywhere near as flashy or ostentatious in his efforts as the three Volturi leaders were, but he garnered loyalty without artificial means and he had the patience only gained by two thousand years of life.
"Your beauty would make Venus herself blush," Augustine said when Darling and Slightly arrived in the mezzanine of the exclusive Garden City hotel. He took Darling by the arm and kissed her on the cheek. "You are well, I can see."
She nodded. "And you?"
"Continuing on, as you can see," he said and flashed her a brilliant grin. He wore a tuxedo of similar make and style to Slightly's and his head was bare, revealing the rows of thick, brown curls falling across his forehead. "Here, tonight, you are to play the role of devoted patroness of medical research," Augustine whispered to her as he directed the pair into the ballroom. "Smile, ask questions, let them admire you, and then we will have access to all their medical supply connections."
She nodded. She could do that.
"And you, Peter, you are a visiting scholar from the University of Kansas. You are here to study the history and culture of Chad. Make sure you keep your contacts in all night and replace them if they disintegrate," Augustine told Slightly.
"Of course," Slightly answered.
"By the way, have you finished Metamorphoses yet?" Augustine asked.
"Twice, sir," Slightly answered.
"Very good, very good. Then this night will not be without some enjoyments. Later in the evening, then, we can take some time to discuss what you think of Ovid's sentiments. Does love truly confound all reason? Let us join with the ancients and debate it ourselves. I expect you are an expert. Now, Dulcissima, come greet the mayor. He's not stopped asking about you since the little gathering at his home last year."
Augustine took her arm and propelled her into an interminable evening of small talk and false smiles. Perhaps, if she had been raised in the human world, she could have found such events more tolerable, but she was no more comfortable in a ballroom than she was in the dining hall of Volterra. She saw little difference between the motivations and aspirations of the human world or the vampire. Both were just as filled with circling, hungry sharks and she wanted none of it. Augustine, however, was in his element. Augustine could just as easily converse with a French investor as an Arab prince and he made everyone feel at ease.
Everyone except Darling.
She could play the part. She could dance and glide and simper and laugh. She could do all Augustine asked, and then some, but she did not enjoy it.
It was deep into the night before Augustine dismissed her and let her flee back to her own underground kingdom.
"Anything?" she asked Slightly after they were safe underground.
"The Volturi sent another spy," he answered. "They were not overly happy about the shifting loyalties of the first spy. They are hoping for more luck with this one."
"When?"
"Augustine is still arranging it. It may be another year or so."
"Fine. And Augustine?"
"Augustine enjoyed your dress almost as much as that little Pirate."
Darling grimaced and rolled her eyes. "That is not what I was asking about."
"He suspects I am not the same man as the 'Peter' you first introduced him to. He's going to bring up another conversation from the past at our next meeting to test his theory."
"Can you manage him?"
"Of course."
"He's hoping to take you with him to Alexandria in a few months. He is going to say its for making an alliance with a coven there, but in reality, he is probing into their leadership loyalties and the gifts of a new vampire. He wants you along as a shield."
"Uh, there is nothing to enjoy when visiting the Egyptian covens. I do not like their leader and, if the leader ever stopped to notice my existence, he would not like me either. Augustine will need to go by himself."
Slightly shrugged.
"Augustine said there's a contact in Tunisia worth pursuing. A nomad came through a month or so ago and made inquiries."
"He told me. I'll have Nibs track him down. He should return from Turkey soon enough."
Slightly accompanied her as far as her room and then he opened the door for her.
"Will you require assistance undressing, my Lady?" Slightly asked, a crooked half-smile lighting his face as his hands drifted over the myriad of straps and ties crisscrossing her back.
"No!" she answered and pushed him away. He laughed.
"Oh, not from me! I have better things to do tonight," he said and gave her a meaningful wink. In his hand, he held a folded piece of paper.
"How did you find time to meet another one? The three of us were the only vampires there."
"That you knew of. I have my ways. I will be following this lead and offering my extensive experience in removing dresses to another lovely lady."
"Ugh, I don't want to know anymore about it. Get out of here."
"Oh, I will. I will. But, you know, there's a little Pirate in there who would love to have his dreams of you disturbed. In fact, I think he's still lying in his bed awake, meditating on your many charms."
"I think I can manage."
"I'm sure you can."
When Slightly left, Darling returned to her oversized wardrobe, the room dedicated only to housing her clothes and all the toiletries and niceties that Augustine felt she needed. She hated that room. Everywhere she looked, she was reminded of Augustine's presence and that she needed to change her appearance to fit his expectations. She could not wait to return to her room. The one place in Neverland that was only hers. In there, she could do as she pleased.
It was rare that she allowed herself the indulgence of entering that room. Even more rare that she permitted herself the liberty of her favorite pastime. She entered that room when it was time to feed, and she only fed on a strict schedule, only on cloned animal blood, and only the barest amount necessary to keep her satiated and self-controlled. However, it was not only her body's requirements for sustenance that she indulged. It was also her own need for companionship.
Once each week, she visited Tiger Lily. There, in the calm, quiet presence of her little human counterpart, Darling felt a kinship and understanding that she could never experience anywhere else. Tiger Lily and Darling both existed on the edge of a knife, their existences precariously balanced. They needed each other and Darling determined to keep her little Tiger Lily safe.
Once per month, she allowed one of the Pirates to enter her room and read to her. She knew it was playing with fire, but the awestruck devotion on their faces, the way they stumbled over themselves and gazed upon her, was gratifying. The Pirates worshipped her with guileless eyes. The asked nothing from her and gave her all their unquestioning adoration in return.
They reminded her of Anthony.
The Pirates could not overpower her or injure her. They did not see her as a tool or a means to an end. She was not the source of their medicine or a shield or a pawn in empire building.
To them, she was Darling.
After her particularly trying days, she longed to hide away in her room, close her eyes to the world, and get lost in the one story which had carried her through since she first woke. In the familiar cadence and rhythm of the lines she had long ago memorized, she could let herself rest and be still.
She rotated which Pirates she allowed into her company, rarely seeing any one more than a handful of times throughout their short lives. She ensured she did not grow attached to any, but kept them at arm's length. They could provide her with her desperately needed companionship as long as they remained only Pirates, and did not morph into individuals or persons set apart from their homogeneous existences as Pirates.
Darling had made the mistake of helping raise some of the Lost Boys, early on. She grew attached and then she despaired when the inevitable day came and they longed for Tiger Lily more than her. They forgot about Darling when they first tasted her medicine. Of the hundreds and hundreds of replicas of Edward she had created, none had ever resisted the allure of that blood. Of course, they were all drawn to her, she was the one clone of their potential mate. It was natural and unavoidable, but typically easy to work through. By avoiding their company until they were thoroughly settled in their fixation with the blood and the scent of the little human, she avoided their misplaced attention, while still maintaining their loyalty. Thus, she kept herself from the danger of attachments and still enabled her army to grow as she wished them to.
She avoided as much early training as she could, now. She still raised some of the Pirates, but they were never meant to last. In a few short decades, age would steal them away, and she would be safe from them. She avoided the Lost Boys as much as possible and only collaborated with them with the business of Neverland required it.
She had made many mistakes over the years and Neverland developed by both steps and stumbles. Peter the First was barely able to sit upright when she changed him. He had not learned to speak or feed himself. The change, while quickly giving him freedom of movement and strength, did not enhance his verbal skills and instead only cemented him as he was, unable to communicate and completely dependent on Darling for everything. His impulses ruled him completely and he behaved more like a feral creature than a human.
He would never grow hair, or eyebrows, or lashes. He was so very thin.
He taught her many things. If she wished for any kind of sense or coherency from her Braves, she could not be so hasty in changing them. The second was that, without instituting limits and rations, the clones would literally drink themselves to death within two years. If given unlimited access to cloned blood, they would not leave the side of the barrels and would drink until they either passed out or burst, only to wake and try again, until they ran mad.
It took time to perfect both the appropriate rations, training techniques, and tiers of leadership to make Neverland into the well-oiled machine it had become.
Despite all of Darling's careful plans, there was one Pirate who confounded them all.
Oooo
Tootles was never supposed to break the code into the medicine vault. The Lost-Boys-in-training were not supposed to get into a quarrel in the Braves' barracks. In a single week, Neverland lost Tiger Lily's guardian and those in line to replace him. The Lost Boys took years to socialize before she could change them. After the change, it took years for them to gain enough self-control to be useful for much of anything. Neverland required Lost Boys as soon as possible. While the Braves could sometimes be elevated to more menial posts, most were useful only as part of the army. They could not be relied on for anything outside of Neverland and they especially could not be trusted with Tiger Lily's care.
Darling had learned the hard way that not just anyone could be charged with Tiger Lily. Now, with Tiger Lily the Fourth, she was very careful.
"Why don't we change a Pirate?" John suggested. "Sure, you can stick one of us there for awhile, but then we are still running short-handed. The Pirates are there. Most are literate and vastly more intelligent than any of the Braves."
"The idea has merit," Slightly agreed.
Darling sighed in defeat. The Pirates were never supposed to be changed. "Which one?" she asked.
"Well, Smee is the youngest," Thomas said. "He would blend in with the rest of us."
"It should be Peter," John said.
Slightly cocked his head to one side, a silent conversation flitting back and forth between him and John like a tennis match. After a few minutes, Slightly nodded.
"Why that one?" Darling asked.
"You want someone who will look after Tiger Lily? He's the best one of all of them for it."
"Fine. Let's find him."
She barely contained her aggravation. Of all the Pirates to be changed, it had to be this one. She had counted on his aging and death to separate him from her, sooner rather than later. Most she could dismiss and ignore and keep herself protected from well enough, but this one was dangerous. She had known it from the first time she asked him to read to her. He did more than read and when he left, she wanted to listen to his stories. He had the impudence to gaze upon her like it was she who was the book he came to read.
But he broke the spell when he had the audacity to ask something in return. He stole from her a thimble, as if it should be his, and she could not forgive him for it. She could not forgive him for how she could not get the memory of that kiss out of her brain or how she still felt the ghost of his fingertips along her back. She could not forget how deep his adoration seeped out of his eyes, intoxicating her with the promises they held and the lies she wished she could believe.
Again and again, she longed to listen to him again. She had forced herself to limit the number of times she gave in. The more she longed to ask him back, the more she fought it. She asked others instead. She determined to avoid him and not ask him back. She didn't always succeed. Sometimes, she gave in. Still, as long as he stayed a Pirate, she could rationalize it all as harmless, but he was never meant to be changed.
Peter was the only vampire in Neverland that didn't look like Edward. The others, with their smooth cheeks and lean, youthful muscles, all resembled her sire exactly.
Peter did not.
The vampire, changed when an older human, had a physical and emotional maturity that the others lacked. The others were changed in the height of the emotions and hormones of young men. They were immortalized at the height of their reckless obstinance.
This one moved at a slower, steadier pace. He was both more patient to act and more resolute in his actions. As he rapidly completed his training, it became clear that he excelled above all others in one way. His self-control was unparalleled. He never lunged for Tiger Lily and not once stole a bottle of medicine, or even asked for it for himself.
Not once.
He took to his duties as Tiger Lily's guardian with all the diligence he had taught the young Pirates. Around him, his mind had a calming effect on the others. Slightly, more than once, mentioned how he was a good influence on all the Braves. He was as different from the other Lost Boys as Darling was from Tiger Lily… and this utterly confounded Darling.
At first, she checked the video monitors regularly to ensure Tiger Lily was safe and he was performing his duties well. As the months passed, she found herself watching more and more without noticing Tiger Lily at all. For one thing, he still gazed upon her in rapt adoration. He had undergone the change. He spent his days surrounded by Tiger Lily's scent. Yet, he had not lost his initial draw to Darling or replaced it with a thirst for medicine.
She expected him to argue for his reward some day, and he did, but not the reward she anticipated.
"Please, may I have music," he pleaded.
"What do you mean?"
"I wish to hear music and play music. A flute, a guitar, a keyboard, a drum, I do not care. Allow me to listen to music," he begged.
She accepted and presented him with a digital music device, set of speakers, and his own collection of instruments. The delight on his face could have lit up even the darkest of tunnels in Neverland and from that day on, Tiger Lily's camp was never silent. He brought music to every hall he walked through and soon music filled the minds of all her army. She couldn't say it was a bad development. She had never thought of exposing the Braves to music, but then again, she had very little exposure to music during her long years. For the Braves, it helped calm some of their wildness and they lapped it up like a pup does milk, but it was different for Peter. For him, it fed his soul and lit up his eyes and overflowed from him into every space he moved through like a contagion.
Darling was drawn to that music, though she told herself she was only curious. She began to seek it out and listen from the halls, or to tune into the video feed to hear it when he did not know she was listening. And she could hear him. He sang, from the depths of his soul, of his love for "his Darling" for "his soul" for "the one that I adore" and the songs were so woven out of his praise and love that she felt it wrap around her like the sun at midday, clothing her in his adoration and temporarily making her feel as loved and as beautiful as he believed her to be.
Oh, how she loved to listen and pretend those songs were truly for her.
But they weren't. They were for his idea of her and she was not that woman. And he would change his mind. They always changed her mind and replaced her with another. It was not safe to be drawn in and to let her guard down.
She told herself to stop listening… but she could still hear.
She still caught the sight of his back meandering through the halls, his long red hair braided, and she longed to tear it from its braid and let it fall wild down his back. She caught his scent after he had performed an errand in one place or another and he was distinct from the others for his lack of indulgence and his careful attention to his hygiene that the others, once more advanced in their age and indulgence, began to forget. The unconcerned way he walked, the gracious tolerance he showed the others, the genuine kindness he displayed for the little human and the other Pirates, it was all part of what set him apart from the others. If she was honest with herself, which she rarely was, she had to admit she found him as captivating as he was terrifying.
She was not the only one drawn to him. He impacted his little charge, too, and that Darling had a harder time ignoring. Tiger Lily burst out of her shell like a hermit crab whenever Peter came into her hall. Her face glowed and a genuinely happy smile danced on her lips when she listened to him sing. It was when she caught Tiger Lily's honest admiration and adoration of Peter that Darling paused. Peter, too, gave her such a fond expression in return and changed his song in such a way that Darling could not bear it. Even though Tiger Lily could not see him or respond to him, Darling could not stand for him to speak to her or sing to her or read to her.
She knew he would replace her. He would discard her. She knew he would be so very fickle, just as her sire had been. They were the same, after all. Was it possible for an Edward to love and not destroy? Was it possible for him to truly refuse to consume what he claimed to love?
She didn't believe it and she would prove him to be false, even if it was just so she could have the sense of victory knowing she was right not to fall for his pretenses or become a victim to his falsehoods.
She would force him to show the truth… while using him to take care of another unpleasant, yet unavoidable piece of Neverland business.
Oooo
It was on a particularly quiet night that she determined to put her plan into action. She had avoided interacting with Peter for months. Then, she crashed through the door with her eyes as black as night. She only wore her violet robe and kept her hair in wild disarray, all in an effort to make her actions appear impulsive, rather than the fruit of long planning.
"My Lady," he said in greeting, his red eyes wary about what motivation she had in coming to him. She stood near the door, considering him. He placed the book in his lap down onto the ground and rose to meet her.
"Read to me," she said and she thrust her tattered book into his surprised hands. She sat down on the floor by his feet with her back against the cave wall.
He raised his eyebrows in surprise, but he complied. He sat down a few feet from her and opened the book.
"Where?"
"Here," she said, and pointed, intentionally coming closer to where he sat until only an inch separated them.
"'Long ago,' he said, 'I thought like you that my mother would always keep the window open for me, so I stayed away for moons and moons and moons, and then flew back; but the window was barred, for mother had forgotten all about me, and there was another little boy sleeping in my bed.'
"I am not sure that this was true, but Peter thought it was true; and it scared them.
"'Are you sure mothers are like that?'
"'Yes.'
"So this was the truth about mothers. The toads! They knew in what they called their hearts that one can get on quite well without a mother, and that it is only the mothers who think you can't. Thus children are ever ready, when novelty knocks, to desert their dearest ones."
Darling never heard the words he read. Instead, she steeled herself for what she must do and tried to convince herself it was necessary – to protect herself and Neverland.
He had not read more than a few sentences before the book in his hands was replaced by a feminine body inviting herself onto his lap and curling into his chest. Her hands took the book away, tossing it behind her, and then they wrapped around his neck, pulling his face into her. Her eyes sought his, pleading, begging and then her lips thrust up to meet his own. She devoured him, hungrily, desperately, willingly, but ever so briefly. In the next moment, his arms were empty, the book and its keeper were gone, and he was still sitting on the floor, his braided hair in mussed disarray around him and struggling to calm himself and catch his breath again.
She knew he would try to go after her, but she was faster. When he got to the door, he could not pull it open. He tugged and then pulled and then pushed with all his strength, but it would not budge. He called into the hall, but no one answered. He went to his communication panel and tried to call in for assistance, but the panel's face was entirely black and refused to turn on again.
From her own control panel, Darling pushed another button and removed the barriers between Peter and Tiger Lily.
All of them.
Every last wall.
Brown eyes shot up in surprise and fear as Tiger Lily found she was no longer alone.
ooooo
Author's notes:
So, I sat down to write this story and another story fell out instead. No amount of arguing or pleading with my computer forced out the correct story. Now that my accidental story is done with, I'm back to this one, and my computer is more obedient this time.
Augustine is as complicated as North Africa. Do I go with Latin, Arabic, or Berber terminologies for places/words? How much have all the human empires that have ruled this part of the world influence his worldview? How much is the vampire world distinct from the human? Before I turn my head into too many circles and end up over-researching (again), let's just say he's complicated. I'm using primarily the Arabic terms, with the occasional Latin.
Oh, the ways these stories evolve…speaking of which - really, Maembe? How do I make the sequel longer and more complex than the original? Typical. Well, here we are.
