Authors: Rosalie Redd
“In a sense. Come along, now. The baths are still a fair walk from here.” Her talkative escort took hold of Melissa’s arm and guided her farther down the hall.
What kind of world was this? Melissa’s skin tingled, and her heartbeat picked up speed. She’d been through a lot in the past couple of nights, but somehow, she felt safe here in the Keep. Memories of her conversation with Noeh reminded her of his unique, comforting scent and her desire for his blood. Her teeth threatened to extend. She clamped her mouth tight and forced herself to focus on the little Jixie in front of her.
They passed several closed doors along the way. She wanted to stop and explore, but Bet seemed intent on getting to the baths, so Melissa held her curiosity in check.
Footsteps and muffled voices grew louder as they approached an intersection. A couple of males rounded the corner and almost knocked her and Bet to the ground. Strong hands reached for Melissa’s arms, but she spun out of the way just in time.
“Forgive me, I didn’t see you,” a deep male voice rumbled.
The male’s scent brought out her fangs, and she pursed her lips to hide them. She needed to feed, and soon, or the headaches would come again. If the headache lasted too long, she could slip into the beginnings of the dementia. That wouldn’t be good.
She backed up and peered at the tall male standing before her. Like all the Stiyaha she’d met so far, he was well over six and a half feet tall. A woven, short-sleeved, black shirt covered his broad shoulders, and he wore silver armbands over his thick forearms. Black leather pants clung to his muscular legs. His feet and ankles, covered in black boots, had short knives strapped to the outside cuff. A gray bandana at the base of his neck held his auburn hair in place. He seemed to regain his composure and stepped away from her.
“Jade! Watch where you walk.” Bet put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes.
Melissa wanted to laugh at the small female standing up to the giant male, but she stifled the chuckle before it could escape her lips. Although her fangs had receded, she didn’t want to take a chance that they would elongate again.
“You’re pretty light on your feet.” Bet’s gaze moved from Melissa’s worn-out sneakers to her eyes.
“Must’ve been the dance classes. I took ballet—” Melissa stopped mid-sentence. Bet or the males probably didn’t know about human ballet classes. She shrugged.
“I’ll keep Jade out of trouble, Bet.” The other male spoke, and his voice boomed down the corridor. This male was dressed similar to Jade, but his shoulder-length blond hair was pulled back in a tiny queue behind his neck. Two thin black lines ran down either side of his nose, and he wore a thin, silver chain around this throat. His blue eyes focused on Melissa. “You are the visitor.”
“Yes, Caleb, and you’ll leave her be, per the king’s orders,” Bet said.
The two males visibly stiffened and seemed to rethink any further discussion. An uncomfortable silence drew out until the one called Caleb spoke. “We’ll be off. Need to get to the training center.”
Caleb gave a quick bow as the two males departed. Their bootsteps echoed against the walls in their wake.
“One of them—Caleb—he had a marking on his face. Noeh has one, too. What do they mean?” Melissa asked as they resumed their walk down the hallway.
“Every male receives a marking at birth. The lines and whorls are unique and represent the values most important to that male. Often, one or more of these ideals are tested during the male’s lifetime. If he passes the test, he retains the value, and his life is whole, complete. If he fails, his life spirals until he loses them all and succumbs to his inner beast.”
“Wow, that’s intense. What values are Noeh’s markings?” Curiosity niggled at Melissa.
“The three lines over his eye represent truth, honor, and justice. The two whorls under his eye are for compassion and faith.”
Melissa pictured Noeh’s marks in her mind. The bottom two, the ones for compassion and faith were a light shade of gray, very different from the three dark lines above his blue eyes. Her throat constricted at her new understanding.
They rounded another bend in the corridor, and Bet stopped in front of an old wooden door. The metal latch fit loose in the cradle and was well worn. She raised the bar.
Bet entered the bath hall. Melissa followed. She stilled and blew out a slow breath. The room was beautiful. Rushing water echoed against the walls of the large cavern. At the far end of the chamber, a waterfall cascaded ten feet from a small cliff into an immense pool. Wet spray had polished the surrounding rocks. Six bathing tubs stood in the center of the room, each carved from natural lava stone and smoothed to a fine finish. She walked to the nearest one. This tub was twice as large as the others, with the capacity to hold several inhabitants at once. She traced her fingers over the edge. Warm water tingled her skin.
Steam rose from the surface of the water, as if natural heat from underground springs fed the current. Dew formed on her skin. She closed her eyes and breathed in the cleansing aroma. Her muscles loosened. The wonders of the Keep were so beautiful, so untouched.
“It’s off hours now, so you have the place to yourself. The males aren’t scheduled to be here for a while. Take as long as you like.” Bet handed Melissa a bar of soap and a roll of bound material. “This is to dry yourself.”
Melissa studied the fabric. It was woven and soft, like a rose petal. “Thank you. I appreciate your help.”
Bet waved her hand in the air. “Not a bother. We don’t get visitors—ever. It’s been an absolute pleasure, dearie. I’m going to get you some new clothes. I’ll be back soon.”
Bet closed the door behind her. As soon as she left, Melissa undressed and stepped into the warm tub. If only she could make this her new home. A lump formed in the throat, and her stomach hardened. She needed to find another Pride, so she could be on her way again, soon.
Chapter Seven
Ram paced the small cabin, assessing the Gossum who sat with his back against the wall. A large cut ran the length of his arm, and his tongue licked the wound, sealing the gash with his saliva. The lesion would heal within the hour, which was good, since Ram needed all the healthy soldiers he could get.
Dried blood covered the wound on his thigh. Damn Stiyaha. He’d tried several times in the past few months to take down Noeh, but so far, nada. Not that he cared one way or the other about his enemy; he just wanted to keep the boss happy. A content Zedron meant an alive Ram.
The rundown cabin was a safe house, one which offered shelter in a pinch. Peeled paint hung in strips on the walls, the once energetic green now dull and gray. Mold grew in the cracks of the broken window where rain pelted the counter and dampened the wooden floor.
Bands of Gossum roamed territories in other parts of the globe, fighting other Lemurian races. Contact with other broods was non-existent. Due to the distance, there was no benefit to a coordinated network. Rumors flowed over the generations of human converts that the original Gossum were twice as big, twice as strong. Ram didn’t know what to believe. All he knew was that he was the current leader of this brood. His mission: to wipe out the Stiyaha. Once done, they would rule this planet, enslave the humans and start the long task of transporting water to Lemuria.
Jakar entered the room, his labored breaths the only indication he’d run the ten miles back to the cabin. The safe house wasn’t far from the asylum, and maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.
“Glad you could join us.” Ram raised an eyebrow, catching Jakar’s attention. He turned back around and stared out the window. The rain sounded like nails on glass to his sensitive ears. He winced at the dull pain in his head, removed his cap, and rubbed his forehead. “Jakar, please tell me we got enough Stiyaha blood.”
Jakar dumped the contents of his backpack onto the old, rickety table. Empty bottles, syringes, and a few stray needles scattered across the damaged surface. “That’s it. The vial with the Stiyaha’s blood broke during the battle.”
“Of course it did, naturally.” Ram picked up one of the syringes and ran his fingers over the smooth surface.
“At least you have the female’s shield,” Jakar said.
Ram raised a hairless eyebrow and stared at the male. “Indeed. How many soldiers did we lose?”
“Six.”
Ram pursed his lips, his fingers drumming against his chin. “So, that leaves us with what, five soldiers including us?” He turned his attention to his first lieutenant. “I think we need to make a run into Portland, get us a few new…volunteers.”
“Consider it done.” Jakar quivered, and a slight smile lifted the corner of his mouth.
“Then see to it.”
Ram’s head pounded behind his eyes. The familiar feeling was one he got often when he was impatient or needed a fix. “We can’t dawdle. I don’t think her blood will stay in my system for long, maybe a few weeks. Once it’s gone, I may lose her power.”
“We leave at once.” Jakar pointed at the Gossum leaning against the wall. “You, come with me.”
Jakar and his follower left the room.
Ram took in a long breath. Some unlucky junkie or drunk would receive the surprise of his life. Just like he had.
A slow smile lifted at the corner of his mouth. He parted his lips and ran his tongue along the razor-sharp edges of his teeth. It seemed like an eternity ago, that he’d been human, although it had only been seven months.
He no longer needed heroin, his favorite narcotic. His body would reject the depressant, but he still hungered for a sedative. His only regret? Sheri, his ex-wife. She’d left him because of the drugs. He couldn’t imagine what she’d think of him now.
*****
Melissa wrapped the towel around her body, the fabric soft against her skin. The burn marks, a few shades darker than her natural ivory, were fast becoming a distant memory thanks to her body’s quick healing ability. They would take a bit longer to mend than normal since she hadn’t fed, but they would still heal. The warmth of the bath disappeared, leaving a trail of goosebumps down her arms. She grabbed another towel from a nearby pile and squeezed the water from her long hair.
A pile of clothes lay close by. She must have fallen asleep in the bath as she hadn’t heard Bet return. After her ordeal with the Gossum, was it any wonder? She’d survived, somehow. Now she was in this magnificent Keep, but she couldn’t fantasize about staying here. She had to dress and leave. A tall male with a pair of blue eyes, one framed by a dark mark, haunted her. The sooner she disappeared, the better. She’d heard rumors another Pride lived in the Olympic Peninsula. That was her destination.
Melissa dressed in the clothes Bet had left for her. The gray shirt was a bit too long, the dark pants a bit too big. At least they covered the worst of the burn marks.
She sighed, thankful for the opportunity to clean the grit and grime from her body, even if she couldn’t clean out her memories.
Her body shook from her need to feed. If she didn’t get some blood from a male soon, she’d start to show signs of insanity. Delusions and suspicious thoughts would lead to aggressive, reckless behavior. Ending up like that wouldn’t be good. She inhaled and forced herself to concentrate, to steady her quaking body.
She headed over to a table filled with grooming accessories. Brushes, combs, perfumes, and various vials of makeup lined the table. A small, round mirror hung on the wall, and she took in her appearance for the first time since the Gossum attack. Her heart thudded.
The lines from the cuts on her cheek and lip were still visible. The bruise around her eye was a nice shade of yellow, fast on its way to healing. The skin under her eyes sagged, evidence of her exhaustion and her need for blood. A soft groan erupted from her throat. She couldn’t stare at herself any longer. Her own image brought back the torture she’d received at the hands of her enemy.
She grabbed one of the brushes from the table, concentrating on the handle to focus her mind. Handmade, the edges of the wood were sanded to a smooth finish. Strong, animal-hair fibers poked from tiny holes. She ran the brush through her hair. The clean, wet strands landed against the thin fabric of her shirt in a rhythmic cadence that soothed her.
The sound of quick footsteps caught her attention. Bet walked into the room. “I brought you some more drying cloths—just in case you need them.”
“Thank you.” Melissa liked the small female already.
Bet placed the towels on the stone shelf and straightened them to perfection, her plump face jostling as she moved. She tightened the apron around her generous midriff and wiped her hands on the stained material.
“Bet, there’s so many baths here. You mentioned earlier that others weren’t scheduled to come in for a while. What did you mean?”
“The bath hall is used by all the Stiyaha. There are different times for male, female, and co-ed bathing.” Bet took a step closer to Melissa. “You happened to come in here during an off-time. Noeh authorized it.”
Melissa stiffened. Noeh’s words echoed in her mind.
My guards will escort you home
. She remembered the look on his face—lips drawn, eyes boring into her—and her skin tingled, but not from fear. He made her uneasy, in a way she didn’t want to think about.
“I see you found the clothes I left for you. You were asleep when I brought them.” Bet scanned Melissa’s body, her warm eyes creasing with amusement. “You are so small. They fit you like a tent.”
An ache crept into Melissa’s chest, and she choked on her words. “These will be fine. Thank you.”