A Meet of Tribes Read online

  “Field, can you take Aida inside, please?” I asked him. “She needs food and rest.”

  He nodded and helped her into the house. My heart twisted at the sight of her being so soft and weak, but I took comfort in the fact that she was in good hands with the Hawk. Aida would be up and running circles around us by morning, for sure.

  I figured it was a good time to take my leave as well, but I wasn’t interested in being on my own. I brushed Anjani’s arm with the back of my hand, and she looked at me with wide golden-green eyes.

  “Let me show you around. You can wash up, eat, and rest a little. You’ve dealt with enough for one morning,” I told her.

  I’d expected her to contradict me and put on her warrior chick bravado, but she didn’t. Instead, she nodded and followed me inside.

  There was a spare bedroom next to mine upstairs, so I decided to take her there. It seemed like a girl’s room with soft pinks and yellows on the wallpaper and delicate floral patterns on the bed covers. The windows were tall, and there was a set of narrow French doors opening out to a small terrace facing south.

  I showed Anjani to the ensuite bathroom and sat down in one of the two armchairs facing the bed. I heard the lock turn on the door and the water run into the tub. I wasn’t ready to leave yet. I wanted to make sure that she had everything she needed when she came out.

  I let my feet rest for about five minutes, then started rummaging through the dresser for some clothes. I picked out a white gown, which, judging by its era of manufacture, was most likely intended as an undergarment for those fancy summer dresses that women wore on southern cotton plantations. I figured she could do with a change of clothes, at least for a day. I also wanted to see how that fine white organza would look on her body, hugging her breasts and round hips.

  I heard the door open, and I turned around to show her the gown.

  I froze.

  My heart stopped.

  The air left my lungs.

  I watched Anjani in her full naked splendor walk out of the bathroom. She stilled. Her muscles tensed in her thighs. Her eyes widened. Water trickled down her silvery skin and set my soul on fire.

  I wanted to look away. I tried. But I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

  Every curve, every line, every bit of her was designed to drive a man like me mad, to enslave me and consume me while I welcomed it with arms wide open.

  My inner-wolf howled like a maniac, as if Anjani was the full moon that guided my entire existence. Judging by the stunned look on her face, she probably thought she’d walk out to an empty room after her shower.

  “What…what are you doing here?” she asked with a hiss.

  “I…I wanted to make sure you had everything you needed here.” My voice was barely audible.

  Anjani’s skin lit up with a familiar glow, the one I’d seen the night before in our tent. She was blushing in her succubus way. My core burned with delight, and I shifted from one leg to the other to relieve some of the tension gathered below my waist.

  “I’m sorry,” I managed to say and used every ounce of strength I had in me to look away. I held out the gown for her. “I found this. Thought you could use it.”

  “What’s that?” she asked. Every second she stood there naked prolonged my agony. I forced myself to look away when all I wanted was to take it all in.

  “Just a dress. Figured you needed some fresh clothes.”

  “I didn’t realize you’d still be here,” Anjani said, her tone slicing through me like a knife, making me feel like the ultimate perv.

  She pulled the floral pattern cover from the bed and wrapped herself in it. She would’ve had to move and reach out in order to get the gown from me, and I wasn’t willing to risk taking a step toward her. I was aroused and terrified at the same time.

  “This is your room, you can rest here,” I said. I left the gown on the bed between us and moved to the door.

  “Jovi.” Anjani’s voice stopped me as my foot reached the threshold.

  I looked over my shoulder, and our eyes met.

  “Thank you for everything,” she said.

  It felt like some sort of concession coming from her, as if she’d lowered her defenses enough to acknowledge me as more than just a chunk of meat. I wasn’t sure what she was thanking me for, but given her past experiences growing up in the wild and being taught to rely only on herself, I figured she’d finally decided to welcome my support.

  She probably wasn’t used to hospitality, to being looked after by a man. She didn’t seem mad about my presence there. My intentions had been pure, after all. Not my fault she didn’t know the concept of towels.

  I smiled, nodded, and left.

  Another minute with her, and I probably would have had to pick a fight with that bed cover.

  Phoenix

  I showed the Daughter around the mansion. We passed through the banquet hall, Draven’s studio, and the library. I showed her to the girls’ bedroom upstairs, where I picked out a simple summer dress for her to wear—a white cotton gown with delicate lace details around the neck and sleeves.

  She dropped the tablecloth to the floor, and I instinctively turned around. I had a feeling that if I got a good look at her, I would never be able to part from her again. And despite my attachment to her, there was a part of me that didn’t want to be so vulnerable. I stilled, waiting for the fabric to stop rustling.

  The dress fit her perfectly, with a rounded neckline and three-quarter sleeves with lace frills. The fabric hugged her tiny waist perfectly and expanded into a wide skirt all the way down to her ankles. While her pale skin competed with the whiteness of the fabric, her hair cascaded in fiery contrast over her shoulders.

  I had to move. I had to get her out of there before my mind drifted in an inappropriate direction. We toured the top floor and then went back downstairs, where we found a beautiful tea room hidden behind the dining hall, complete with Baroque oil paintings and gilded details on the classical furniture.

  She didn’t seem to like the indoors much, and soon enough we found ourselves wandering toward the back garden. She was fascinated by the greenhouse in particular, and we spent some time there.

  It was hot and humid, but I couldn’t bring myself to suggest going elsewhere. Something inside of me pulled me closer to this creature I knew nothing about. I had never spent so much time or energy focused on someone the way I did with her.

  It felt strange but simultaneously exhilarating. Every time she looked at me, my heart stopped for a moment, then resumed its thunderous beating against my ribcage. I’d done the craziest thing for her, nearly killing myself. I’d had no control over my body or my senses. In any other circumstances, I would’ve berated myself.

  But watching her as she strolled through the greenhouse, sniffing the abundance of weirdly beautiful plants and flowers, crinkling her nose when she got a whiff of a foul-smelling herb, and smiling when she discovered a bright purple blossom that resembled an iris, I couldn’t help but feel like it had all been worth it.

  She was awake and out of that shell, able to breathe and experience everything like the rest of us. On top of that, she was the most incredible creature I had ever laid eyes on—small but gorgeous with gentle curves, hair the color of an autumn sunset, and curious violet eyes that never stopped exploring and analyzing.

  Every time her gaze met mine, fire burned through my stomach and paralyzed my senses. Her lips were soft and full, almost begging to be kissed. And when they stretched into a smile and revealed two rows of pearly white teeth, I melted.

  I smiled back and wiped a bead of sweat from my brow. “I take it you like it in here.”

  She nodded and shifted her focus back on the purple flower. Her delicate fingers gently traced the contours of each petal.

  “It’s so beautiful,” she whispered.

  Nowhere near as beautiful as you. I took a deep breath, trying to keep myself cool and composed. I felt like I had to make a good impression and show her my truth, our truth, about t
his world. With all its faults and cruelty, Eritopia was a good place and worthy of salvation. It felt like my job to make her see that.

  After all, she had the power to make it better or break it forever.

  “I understand that the whole of Eritopia is like this,” I said, “filled with fascinating flora and home to intriguing creatures—so different from my people back home.”

  “You’re not from here?” she asked, a questioning look on her beautiful face.

  “No.” I shook my head and smiled. “Eritopia is part of what we call the In-Between, which is a space we pass through when we travel via portal from our world, Earth, to the supernatural dimension, where many of us have roots. This is the first time I’ve been to the In-Between for this long and my first time in Eritopia. I would’ve never imagined Eritopia even existed, otherwise.”

  “How did you come here? Why did you come here?”

  I liked her curiosity. It gave me a chance to tell her our side of the story. As drawn as I was to her, there was still a part of me that pushed me to use a strategic approach and think of the long-term and her influence on her sisters.

  “The Druid brought us here with his magic. My friends and I had gone to a fae celebration in another galaxy and suddenly found ourselves here. Aida, myself, and Vita were told that we are Oracles and that we have the ability to see the past, the present, and the future of everything. We obviously didn’t believe him at first.” I chuckled, remembering my confusion during our first days here.

  She cocked her head, listening as I told her about the Nevertide Oracle who had passed her powers to our mothers eighteen years ago, about the visions we’d had so far, and about Azazel’s reign of terror.

  “I think Bijarki and Draven can tell you more about the Destroyers. I’m not nearly informed enough on this subject. All I know is that they cause pain and suffering and kill without mercy. There’s no place for them in this world. In any world, for that matter.” I heaved a sigh.

  Her eyebrows drew into a frown, passing shadows across her face, and she walked toward me, hands at her sides. As she closed the distance between us, I felt my breath falter and my heart drum frenetically. The more time I spent around her, the more I was torn between mindless attraction and respectful reverence.

  “You don’t like Azazel,” the Daughter said slowly as she stopped inches from me.

  “I don’t think anyone likes Azazel. I’m guessing the only one who likes Azazel is Azazel,” I quipped, trying to relieve some of the tension I felt lingering in the back of my neck.

  “I don’t like him either,” she replied. “I don’t like him because he makes you sad.”

  Her candor was disarming, and I couldn’t help but smile.

  “That’s okay. I’m not that bothered since you’re here now,” I said to her, drawing my face closer to hers.

  My eyes felt locked on hers, and I had the impression of sinking in two pools of vibrant violet, the unknown of her very being pulling me deeper and deeper. She didn’t move, didn’t say a word; instead she held my gaze, and I suddenly found myself wondering what she was thinking.

  I was tempted to try a mind-meld, but the rattling above us broke my train of thought. I looked up and saw the rain tapping against the glass panes of the greenhouse and pouring down the sides. The skies were covered with gray clouds being pushed by a strong wind. Lightning flashed in jagged lines.

  “What’s that?” she asked, looking up.

  “That’s rain. Water pours down from the sky sometimes and nurtures the land.”

  “Rain,” she said, letting the word roll off her tongue. “Rain gives life.”

  She smiled and darted outside before I could stop her. She pushed the glass door open and ran into the garden out back. Magnolia trees bordered the property in shades of pink and white, trembling beneath the rainfall. Petals dropped to the ground here and there. The wind whistled overhead as the rain intensified, rapping against the soft grass.

  I ran outside to find the Daughter laughing. She stood in the middle of the garden with her arms stretched out, happy to receive every single drop that the sky had to give her. It darkened her hair to a gloomy pink. Water trickled over her lips.

  I watched her as she spun in the rain enjoying a natural occurrence that drove most of us to shelter. The water soon soaked her dress. The material clung to her curves in a way that made my temperature rise. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to disturb her—she looked so happy and alive.

  She sneezed.

  The noise surprised her, and she laughed. Then she sneezed again and laughed even harder. I laughed as well, watching a Daughter of Eritopia in the rain. But then the sneezing grew more intense, and she stopped laughing and moving.

  My own nose itched all of a sudden, and my eyes burned.

  I reached her in several steps and noticed her red nose and teary eyes as she tried to wipe the water from her face. Steam drifted out of her shivering body, and I realized that I had to get her inside and warmed up fast before she came down with a cold or worse. I was taken aback by how quickly her symptoms had come on.

  I took her in my arms and carried her inside. She was silent, tender against my chest, trembling and sniffing. I raced up the stairs and went straight into my room, placing my little bundle of pink hair and soft white flesh on the bed. I retrieved several large towels from the bathroom, and wrapped her in them.

  I used one to dry her hair, and she silently sat there watching me for a while, the faint shadow of a smile flickering on her lips. Soon enough, her eyes closed, and I laid her on one side of the bed. I pulled the bed cover over her as she drifted off to sleep.

  She seemed content, covered in warm linens and towels. The rain outside stopped, and the clouds broke apart. The sun shone and threw warm rays into my room. I pulled a chair close to the bed and sat there, watching her while she slept.

  Her body moved with every breath she took, and her dark red brows furrowed slightly once in a while. Was she dreaming?

  I couldn’t bring myself to leave her, and the thought startled me.

  What had she done to me? How had I become so tied to this gorgeous creature?

  And why was I so okay with it?

  Aida

  I leaned against Field as we walked into the banquet hall, where breakfast was still being served—although at this hour it could easily be considered brunch. We didn’t care. We were famished.

  We ate in silence, sitting next to each other, and my mind rocked back and forth, oscillating between last night’s moment with Field and everything that came afterward, including the forced hatching of the last Daughter. The latter had definitely made it onto my “top five weirdest moments in Eritopia” list. It didn’t beat the flickering runes I’d seen on my body the other night, but it was a decent contender for the upper echelon of freaky occurrences.

  Field’s presence so close to me soon started to have a dominant effect. I found myself giving him sideways glances and wondering what he was thinking about. The silence shifted from normal to awkward, as we both slowed down and picked at the pancakes on our plates and sipped our coffee.

  “Field,” I said.

  He looked at me, his turquoise eyes lighting up as soon as they met mine.

  “I want to thank you,” I continued, my voice lower than usual.

  “For what?”

  “For everything. For everything you’ve done, for being here, for being an amazing friend. We’re so lucky to have you around.” I was exhausted, judging by my mild slur and dim tone.

  Despite the nourishment, what I needed most was sleep. Long hours of it, uninterrupted. I noticed a frown pass over Field’s face, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it, especially when he shifted his gaze to his plate.

  “I’m still trying to wrap my head around Phoenix and the Daughter,” came his completely unrelated reply. “It’s so good to see him alive, but at the same time I can’t quite put my finger on this connection he seems to have with the Daughter. It’s like they’ve
become inseparable.”

  “Yeah, me neither.” I nodded slowly. “It might have started from his vision of her from the past, sleeping in her shell. And if the Daughters picked up on that and gave him that knife, clearly this was somehow meant to happen. Though I don’t understand what their end game is and why Phoenix and the Daughter seem so attached.”

  “We’ll have to keep an eye on them going forward,” Field said and gulped down the rest of his coffee.

  I pushed the chair back and stood up, ready for my beauty sleep. But my legs didn’t feel like obeying the rest of my body, and I wobbled, prompting Field to rise out of his chair and lift me in his arms.

  While exhaustion may have finally prevailed over me, I had enough sense to marvel at the sensation of his arms around me.

  Field held me, my feet dangling, as I wrapped my arms around his neck for support. I melted into his chest, tired and grateful to feel him so close. His body was hard and unforgiving, but his grip was gentle and cautious. I let my head rest on his chest as he carried me upstairs. His heartbeat drummed in my ear.

  We made it to my room upstairs, and he set me back on my feet. I looked up and gave him a weak smile as a thank you and staggered into the bathroom.

  “I need a shower before I can even touch that bed,” I mumbled.

  I locked the door behind me and leaned against it. My breathing was fast and uneven, mimicking my heart. I’d felt so safe for a brief moment in Field’s arms, tucked away from the whole world and everything that wanted to kill me. I needed a few seconds to get a grip.

  I turned on the water and peeled off my clothes, dumping them in an old laundry basket. I’d deal with those later. I welcomed the stream over my face and body. My muscles relaxed, and my skin was thankful for every drop. I washed my hair with soap and cleaned all the dirt away; my digging attempts had been quite messy.

  I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around myself, my mind wandering toward Field and what it had felt like against his body. No wonder my legs were so weak.