Chapter Thirty-Nine
Rykaur arrived at the steam room to find Anthony Vaughn leaning against the wall outside the door.
“How are your son and Naura doing this morning?”
Tony lifted his gaze to reveal tormented eyes. “They survived, thanks to Zaureth and Abbie. I almost lost them.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I came so close to losing my whole world.”
“But you did not lose them, Tony. They both pulled through, and Naura will be back on her feet in no time.”
Tony attempted a laugh, a rusty sound that seemed forced. “She’s already on her feet. I can’t talk her into staying in bed even for a day.”
“Has Zaureth been to see her?”
“He has. Which is why she’s up and about so soon. Zaureth was a big help in speeding up the healing process.”
Rykaur clapped Tony on the shoulder. “Well, congratulations on the birth of a healthy son. What name will you call him?”
“His name is Tauren.”
“That is a good, strong Bracadyte name, Anthony Vaughn.”
Rykaur turned and entered the steam room, glancing around at some of Aukrabah’s finest warriors.
Vaulcron met him near the door way. “Would you care to perform the ceremony?”
Touched by Vaulcron’s show of trust, Rykaur nodded. “I would be honored, son of my king.”
Melvin sat on the floor in the center of the crowd, his shirt and shoes removed.
Rykaur sat in front of him as the rest of the Bracadytes took their seats in a circle surrounding the ex-CIA agent.
A small wooden table had been situated in front of Melvin, holding two bowls and a knife.
One bowl contained a clear, slimy substance derived from a Kyphosus bigibbus, a rare hallucinogenic-producing fish. The second bowl remained empty.
“Let us begin,” Rykaur suggested, moving over a little to make room for Tony, who had obviously decided to join the group. He picked up the bowl containing the hallucinogenic, took a sip, and passed it to his left.
Rykaur waited for the bowl to make its way back to him before moving on to the next step.
Staring intently into Melvin’s eyes, Rykaur retrieved the knife from the small table. “Are you certain that you wish to do this? There is no turning back. Once it is done, you will be brother to the Bracadyte in this life as well as the next.”
“I’m sure,” Melvin responded without looking away from Rykaur’s eyes.
Rykaur opened his hand and slid the blade across his skin. Blood welled up to pool in his open palm.
Leaning forward, Rykaur extended his hand over the empty bowl, allowing the blood to fill the bottom.
He then passed the knife to Vaulcron who sat on his left and watched as the other Bracadyte repeated what Rykaur had done.
And on it went. Each warrior cut his palm and bled into the wooden bowl in the center.
The knife came around to Tony, who stared at it for several heartbeats before meeting the gazes of everyone in the room. “You’re all my brothers, whether Bracadyte or human. You’re the only brothers I have. The only I will ever have.” He slid the blade across his palm, spilled his blood into the bowl, and handed the knife to Melvin.
Melvin didn’t hesitate. A muscle bunched in his jaw, whether from fighting emotion or preparing for what was to come, Rykaur couldn’t be sure.
Slicing the blade through his own palm, Melvin joined his blood in the bowl with the others and returned the knife to the table.
“Drink,” Rykaur ordered, nodding toward the bowl containing the hallucinogenic.
Melvin lifted the bowl without hesitation, brought it to his lips, and took a healthy sip. He then handed it to Rykaur.
Rykaur ingested the bitter-tasting substance before passing it to Vaulcron.
Around the group the bowl traveled, stopping at Tony, who finished it off.
A humming sound began in Rykaur’s skull, and the steam swirling in the room turned to shadows.
Keeping his eyes open, Rykaur let his gaze follow the shadows around the room as they slipped in and out of the crowd, taking shape in the form of ancient warriors who’d gone on before.
They circled Melvin, the humming in Rykaur’s head growing stronger with every pass they made.
Several shadows broke off from the others to slip through Tony’s stunned body.
Melvin stayed completely still, allowing the shadows to move through his form at will.
A battle cry erupted from his throat, his torso jerked forward, and his lips peeled back over his teeth.
“Drink,” Rykaur demanded once more, this time pointing to the half-filled bowl of blood sitting on the table.
Melvin’s hand shook, so great was the power surrounding him. He grabbed on to the bowl, brought it to his lips, and drank some of the contents.
Rykaur retrieved the bowl from Melvin’s stiff fingers, extended his fangs, and drew the crimson liquid into his veins.
Tony, who seemed to be in no better condition than Melvin, managed to also bring the bowl to his lips.
Once the bowl had been drained by the warriors in the room, Rykaur closed his eyes and allowed the bonding process to begin.
Tony groaned, his head snapping back in agony.
Rykaur knew the process would be painful, but the pain wouldn’t last long, and the hallucinogenic would help.
Unsure of how long they remained in that steam room, Rykaur laid his back on the floor and opened his mind.
Tony’s emotions could be felt almost instantly. The pain of nearly losing his mate. The joy of his son’s birth. The honor he felt at being a part of the Bracadyte ritual.
“You were already a brother to us,” Rykaur sent to Tony. “And I will honor our bond, always.”
Tony brought his head up and looked down at Rykaur. “As will I, brother.”
Another emotion settled in Rykaur’s mind. A feeling of camaraderie and awe.
“I don’t know whether to laugh or shit myself.”
Melvin’s words invaded Rykaur’s psyche, causing his lips to twitch. He slowly sat up and met Melvin’s gaze. “Though you were not born a Bracadyte, you will die one, Thrasher…”
Thrasher didn’t respond. He didn’t have to. Rykaur could feel what he felt, see what he saw.
“Tomorrow, we prepare to leave for Cuba,” Rykaur announced to the room at large.
All eyes swung in his direction, glittering with vengeance.
The shadows of the ancients came together, forming a dark swirling cloud that hovered overhead.
Battle cries suddenly exploded, ricocheting off the walls of the steam room in deafening finality.
“We will find the former human president,” Rykaur roared above the thundering voices. “We will find him, and we will destroy him!”