Detrand

I practically marched down to Bennett’s house, willing my feet not to turn back to the woman on my doorstep. The feeling of my feet on the earth grounded me as I drew away from her. My strigoi was very angry, and he growled at me for leaving her without taking a taste, even as he threatened to emerge. I pushed him down, only barely, as I whisked myself to Bennett’s door.

Standing on the doorstep, I could smell her and for a moment, I was dizzy and confused. I gripped the doorknob to keep my balance and it crumbled under my fist.

Finally able to get a hold on my mind, I banged on the door. The wood bowed under my fist as I pounded into it. “Bennett, you did not tell me you had a daughter. You must take her back. I cannot have her.”

Realizing that I was knocking on his door, instead of merely entering, I determined that the call for her blood could disorient me, making me weak, and that could be dangerous. I shoved the door open, knocking it off its hinges.

“Bennett.” I advanced through the downstairs and, when I couldn’t find him, I moved to the second floor. He was lying in his bed, asleep. I shook him roughly, trying to control my strength so that I wouldn’t break him. “I cannot take your payment; she must return home. I will pay you so that she will have a living after you have passed, but I do not want her.”

Bennett was as still as death, his face shined in the moonlight that streamed through the window. I paused, looking for the pulse that should be at his throat and, finding none, my eyes settled on the bottle by his bedside, alongside a note. ‘I trust you will care for her,’ was all it said and the rage bust from me; I was unable to contain it any longer. I threw his chair and every other piece of furniture I could place my hands on, except for his bed which I would gladly throw if he wasn’t lying dead in it. I wished he was alive so that I could throttle him with my bare hands. When I had destroyed everything possible in his room, I moved to the rest of the house like a tornado. I had the sense enough to pass over her room, but everything else was destruction in my hands, until I came to the vanity of her mother’s. I found that I couldn’t touch it and it halted my outburst.

As soon as I stopped, I was overcome with a sudden sense of shame, because now I had destroyed everything he had to pass down to his daughter. The furniture could be replaced with the highest quality I could offer her, but I couldn’t replace the happiness and love that she’d acquired in this home. Every time I entered, I felt a stifling sense of love and acceptance experienced in no other place, even my own home, and I had destroyed it all. Everything that could remind her that she was loved dearly by her parents. It had been his, it had been theirs, and I had destroyed it all.

I ran my hand through my hair, allowing my shame to pull me into a sordid sense of misery, and I circled the room, unsure what to do. I could set fire to it, only to cover my humiliation, but I would never defile his body in that way. I couldn’t bring his body out and then set fire to it, she would see through me instantly.

And so I determined to hire workers to set right what they could, or to replace the things that could be replaced. I would arrange to bring her mother’s armoire to her room, so that she could have it.

And then a dreaded sense of my predicament overcame me. How could I possibly be in my own house with her living there, a thin wall between us? I could leave the house as soon as I rose, every damn night. Or I could immediately leave the city, as soon as I arranged to have her house repaired. I would leave her with a stipend, and she could return home and be a free woman.

But what if others tried to take advantage of her? There were many beasts in the city, and only some of them the creatures that hid in the dark. What if they hurt her?

And yet, I couldn’t trust the other strigoi to allow her to stay in my home without me.

I swiveled, pacing the room. What did it matter to me? It was only her blood that called to me, and as soon as I was gone from this continent, provided I kept my strigoi completely satisfied for months after I left, the call for her blood would slip away and I would be safe. What happened to her while I was gone was of no concern to me.

But she was her daughter. And didn’t I have a responsibility to protect her?

The image of her trembling body under mine came to my mind, and of all the brazen noises I’d heard in my lifetime, the memory of her sigh was the roar in my ears that brought me to my knees.

* * *

I advanced towards the docks, the darkness following me. I found Stefano in his office, a man kneeling before him. Stefano rose, fixing the buckle of his pants, and the man, who was gloriously built with solid muscles and a twinkle in his eyes, sat back as he peered at me from the floor. I breathed in deeply and my strigoi bellowed. He smelled delectable.

Stefano growled, showing his teeth, and I grabbed him by his neck and held him to the back wall. My eyes, flaming with my need, warned him. I’d had enough desperation tonight, and would satisfy my strigoi, otherwise my blood lust would spread through my body and I would lose control. Looking at the floor to submit to my dominance, Stefano managed to choke out, “He’s mine.”

I growled. “I will determine that.” The boy’s smell lingered in my nose, threatening to overtake me, and Stefano recognized my need.

“You can have him tonight.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and tightened my hold on his neck.

“As payment for my error.” His eyes bulged out of his head, and his hand was on mine, not pulling, but tugging softly. I felt my eyes go dark as my strigoi emerged. “Please, take him as a gift.”

I barely managed to choke out, “Stop me if I go too far,” and then I was on the man. He was still on his knees and I grabbed him and bit into his neck. He leaned against me, moaning softly as Stefano whimpered behind me. His blood was exactly what I needed and the moment it hit my brain, an elation rushed over me. I gripped him tighter to me, gulping down my need, and he clung to me, his hardened center pushing against me. I lost a sense of time and only felt the burn as it clung to my throat and chest. When Stefano yanked me from the man, I flew across the floor, crashing into his desk which splintered under my weight.

Then I was on Stefano, my fangs out, ready to rip his throat out when I realized that my strigoi had control over me. I stilled, fighting to control it, as Stefano quivered under me. I pushed it down, willing it under my control.

“Stefano, who killed Agosto?”

His eyes, red with want, widened, surprised that I had managed to control myself. He’d thought he would go to his final death. “I don’t know.”

I growled, pushing him higher off the ground.

“All I know is that the fae requested a quarter of the city, they wanted to control a part of it in exchange for payment.”

“And what was Agosto’s reply?”

Stefano’s eyes shifted towards the man who was now on the floor, groaning. I put Stefano down, but still held him tight.

“He sent home the messenger’s heart in a box. He never meant to give them control and they never meant to pay.”

I tilted my head, acknowledging his answer. “I need men.”

“How many?”

“About twenty. I need them to enter Bennett’s home and repair it and to arrange for his funeral.”

Stefano nodded. “I will make the arrangements personally and you will have my best carpenters, another gift from me.”

“I need them tonight.”

“You will have it.”

I released my grip on Stefano and he rushed to the other man, pulled him up, and led him to a chair. “And the tax on the contracts will be raised by thirty percent.”

Stefano gasped and turned to me but nodded his head once, and then his eyes grew dark as his need emerged with the smell of the man’s blood. He sat in the man’s lap, gripping him tight and pulled his head back, exposing his throat.

“It will remain so until I discover who killed Agosto.” I went to the door of the warehouse and called over my shoulder. “And send word to Bennett’s daughter that he is dead.” Only the moans of Stefano answered my command.

* * *

I moved outside the city, rushing like the wind and feeling an incomprehensible high as my strigoi purred in satisfaction. “Faerydae, komdu til min.” I was in an open field, near the border of the shifter lands, and for a moment I remembered how other fields like these, long ago felt under my hands. “Faerydae, don’t make me wait, or I will cut you open like a whale.”

A buzzing noise moved across the field. It zigzagged, moving in close and then spreading back out. The wind picked up, softly at first until it was rushing at my face. My hand snapped out, reaching for the bee, but I missed and it pricked at my cheek. I stumbled forward, reaching for it again but this time I caught the bee, put it in my mouth and swallowed it.

The ground shook and the shuttering earth sprayed mud into the sky as vines crawled out the ground, evolving into a vast forest. Large flowers clung to vast trees, and butterflies floated around me. I stepped into it, and realized that my cheek was bleeding. I wiped it, angry now. I climbed over vines as thick as trunks that slithered around trees as big as giants.

The bird song led me deeper into the woodland and suddenly I was in an open field with the sun blazing on my back. Surprised, I ran towards the trees looking for shelter. The sun’s golden rays hadn’t burned me to a crisp and I stood as still as death. A ray touched my hand and I marveled at it. I moved my hand so that it shimmered brightly. I flung my clothes off and flitted in and out, living and breathing the sun on my skin. Was this what it was like when I gave the strigoi back their memories, warmed their bodies and reminded them how it felt to be human again? No wonder they stalked me, addicted to the intimacy I could provide.

It grew dark, the sky blocked by the pressing trees and I dressed quickly, cursing the time it took to travel into Underhill. At this rate I wouldn’t return to my home within a fortnight, the killer having long fled and the city ruled by another.

Maybe this was their plan all along.

The path under my feet hardened and a long scroll ran towards me. I stepped over it, refusing to read it even though the letters on the ancient page glowed in the dark, calling to me. As I drew nearer, drops of water dampened the scroll and I grinned; I knew my ghost was with me.

Rushing my steps, I used the music of the fae to guide me closer. They danced around me, wearing fine clothing and masks of gold about their face and found myself in an elegant ballroom. The high-ceilinged room was adorned with roughly cut diamonds and ornate hanging chandeliers, carved from the tusks of exotic Afrikan animals, lighting the room with dripping candles. I could blink my eyes and in an instant I would see the room as it really was. However, I did not need to see the ugliness to know that it was there, as most did, and so I chose to see the glamour of the fae, instead of their reality.

Couples embraced in corners sharing their secrets. I turned my head, ignoring them to face Orin, the Fae King who had stepped before me.

“Detrand. You honor me with your presence.”

I bowed, ignoring the scroll at my feet. “The pleasure is mine.” A silver platter was placed before me: venison dripping with grease and pickled grapes. It smelled delicious and I was temped to taste it.

“The fae food is purified against the sickness of the strigoi. You may eat it, you will not develop any illness.” The golden crown on his head shimmered in the light of the room, which was adorned with golden carvings that rose to the ceiling. The light of the room was absorbed by his eyes, which glowed a soft gold, and they stared at me curiously.

“Pakka per.” I bowed before him again, refusing the food. The food of the fae was dangerous. Delicious and delectable, and so intoxicating that you spent months in an inebriated state, becoming lost to the real world. I knew this firsthand, and the agony felt afterwards was almost not worth it’s sensual pleasures. But, I had business to conduct and didn’t have time for the euphoric experience.

He nodded and the food was gone. He gestured towards an ornately carved chair lined with gilded material; its carvings rivaled even my own. It faced his throne, which sat high above it.

I was in charge of the city, but he was King here in Underhill, so I sat in it. He moved to his throne and, as he sat in it, a servant filled a glass with cherry wine and handed it to him. He offered me a diamond-studded glass but I waved my hand.

“How may I serve you, Detrand?”

I leaned forward. “Agosto was ruler over this city, and yet, you tried to buy a section of it.”

Orin blinked pale blond eyelashes in response. “Agosto made an offer, but I denied the proposal. I have no need for such things.” He spread his hand out. “As you can see, I have enough.” The room grew even more crowded, as people lined up in formal dances. They held their hands out, touching each other in the center, as their feet followed the steps of a complicated dance.

The fae cannot lie, but one doesn’t need to lie to mislead.

I stood up and paced the room. “As I remember, you and Orin had an agreeable contract, with the Fae controlling the land south of the city which consisted of the farms and the forest. Just as you desire.” I was behind Orin now, who had not moved from his position on his throne, and I came up to whisper in his ear. “I’m out to discover who killed him. What do you know of this?”

Orin’s pulse throbbed and I was tempted to bite him just to remind him that even though he may be King over his pitiful little room, I was Agosto’s second, and I was not to sit in any chair lower than him.

I breathed in deeply, smelling the rotting floral scent in his blood. Too bad partaking of his blood would bind me to him. I had no desire to serve a blood oath with any fae. My closeness was enough of a warning, though.

Putting his finger to his mouth, Orin tilted his head. “The shifters are suffering. They need an Alpha, not a mere mate to control them. Some of the wolves are clamoring for a new ruler, one that will live with the shifters and be their real Alpha. But they could not do this unless they challenged Agosto head on. Or killed him in his sleep.” He turned to me, and his eyes glowed a soft purple now. “They know of demon magic and how to enter the chambers of the strigoi. Who else could’ve done it?”

“The shifters have no dispute with the strigoi. If they have any wants, they only need ask.”

“They may have no dispute with the strigoi, but they have many disputes between themselves. Some wish for a new leader, one who will rule them without any help from the strigoi. They don’t believe that Salina is strong enough to rule them anymore.” He paused to study the woman who was dancing before him, watching as her body slowly swayed to the music. “And there is another. One who wished Agosto dead, so that he may replace him.”

A soft wind blew on my back, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand up. A finger ran up my hand and stopped on my shoulder. The hand squeezed it tight and the ghost of the lost whispered in my ear.

I walked around Orin’s throne and towered over him, blocking the dancing woman from his sight. He shifted his attention back to me, his feet kicking his throne nervously - he wasn’t tall enough for them to reach the floor.

“Agosto recently bought a couple of ships and sent them to Africa to obtain the riches and jewels there. They say the land is dripping with diamonds and rubies; that you cannot walk up the streets without tripping over them.”

Orin yawned, putting his delicate hand over his mouth, and that’s when I knew that this is what he desired the most. Orin was too powerful to use my senses to determine his desires, so I had to use other means to discover them.

“I have caves of rocks that shine when you rub them.” He leaned forward. “What I don’t have, is any interest in Agosto, or any part of his empire.”

Of course. Now he didn’t. Agosto had died the final death.

“Then why did you try to buy a portion of the city? Agosto may have offered to allow you to control a portion of the goods that came in, but you wanted more.”

King Orin stood up and began to walk towards the dancers. The music began to fade and then the scroll at my feet shuffled and the glowing letters on it began to grow brighter. They flew off the page and surrounded me, singing of returning to a peaceful life.

If I signed the scroll, I would worry no more of the businesses of Agosto. I would be free to return to Italy and enjoy the pleasures that resided there and not have a care in the world. I could take Sophie, and we could renew old bonds. I looked around and the room was empty. It was just me and the paper, a feathered pen in my hands. I closed my eyes, imagining the possibilities. Orin wasn’t a completely evil fae, unless you were one of his subjects. He could rule the city with a fair hand, and the shifters would take care of themselves, most certainly better than I could myself.

It was a fair trade, and I would certainly be happy.

I raised my hand, and the ink dripped from the pen onto the paper, marking it.

Suddenly cold lips were on mine and I was blasted from the paper with a fierceness that could only rival my own and I flew across the room. The pull of the dead called me. The sun was rising, the darkness overcame me, and I slept.