A Meet of Tribes Page 4

  I twisted my hair and let it loose over one shoulder, enough to feel some cool air against the back of my neck. I wiped the mirror above the sink with my palm to get a quick look at myself. My eyes were droopy and bloodshot, but some color had returned to my cheeks thanks to the food.

  My mind zoned in on the bed waiting for me on the other side of the door, and I came out of the bathroom with the sole intention of collapsing under the covers and fading out for a day or so.

  I stilled at the sight of Field in one of the armchairs facing the bed. He was still there. My nakedness suddenly became my biggest problem, as only a towel stood between us. My cheeks burned, and my heart jumped into my throat and refused to back down no matter how much I swallowed.

  He sprang to his feet. His eyes darkened as his gaze ran all over me, lingering here and there quietly. Our eyes met, and I felt my knees preparing for an even greater betrayal.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice raspy and low. “I just wanted to make sure you came out of there okay. You weren’t too steady on your feet.”

  I couldn’t say anything. I wanted to say everything that was going through my mind in this moment and ask him to stay with me. But my lips were sealed, and my words were stuck somewhere in the back of my head where I couldn’t reach them.

  All I could do was nod, while he stood there, motionless, watching me. He took a deep breath and headed for the door, running a hand through his long black hair.

  “I…I should let you sleep,” he said.

  He shifted his gaze to the floor, walked out, and closed the door behind him.

  My legs finally gave in, and I slumped on the bed, catching my breath and clutching the corners of the towel above my chest. I lay on my back and closed my eyes, counting each inhale while the image of Field lingered in my mind. I drifted away.

  Vita

  I was in the dining room when the rain started pouring outside, tapping against the windows. It had taken me a while to leave the garden, and Bijarki had quietly waited on the porch steps, occasionally glancing my way, as if making sure I was okay. He kept his distance, as I’d asked before, but he stuck around. I couldn’t help feeling thankful for his presence.

  We ate in silence on opposite sides of the table. I occasionally looked at him, but not once did our eyes meet. When one of us looked up, the other looked away.

  “How was the trip?” I eventually asked, no longer comfortable with the absence of words between us.

  Bijarki’s gaze rose from his place and settled on mine. A familiar warmth enveloped me, and I welcomed the feeling. After this wretched morning, it was very much needed.

  “The succubi’s poisoned arrows were excellent deterrents for the shape-shifters along the way,” he replied and poured himself a glass of water from one of the pitchers on the table.

  “What’s the Red Tribe like?”

  He took a deep breath before he answered, as if choosing his words carefully. The shadow of a smile passed over his face. There was a story there I didn’t know, and I found myself intrigued.

  “They’re quite fiery,” Bijarki said. “They live freely at the base of one of the northern mountains, hunting and gathering their food, enjoying everything that life has to offer without adhering to any citadel laws. I sort of envy them for it.”

  “For their freedom, you mean?”

  He nodded, then smiled at me, setting off a fire in the pit of my stomach.

  “They get to do what they want, whenever they want, and they account to no one for it. Sure, they have their rules and traditions, but they’re happy and wild and make no concession. I’ve never been so deep inside a succubi tribe before. It was fascinating. Our society doesn’t treat them kindly, and they’re often ill-spoken about.”

  “Ill-spoken?” I asked, suddenly thinking of Anjani in a whole new light.

  The warrior succubus was someone I deeply admired, and I’d expected the rest of the world to appreciate creatures like her as well.

  “They’re considered promiscuous, lustful, and unattached,” he replied, his gaze drilling a hole straight into my soul.

  I couldn’t help but draw some parallels between the succubi and incubi based on what I knew and what he told me. They didn’t seem so different at all.

  “But lust is sort of in your nature, isn’t it?”

  “In a way, yes. But at the end of the day, most of the incubi adhere to stricter, monogamous rules. Most are fine with wives, which is more of a title, a contract between a male and a female. The majority of these are arranged by society; some of us search for a soulmate, a partner for life. That is a much deeper, more intense bond that transcends any piece of parchment. It focuses on the emotion, rather than the company.

  “There are succubi raised in the cities, but the majority of them live in free tribes, away from the males. We only meet when it’s time to reproduce and give birth to incubus heirs. Some succubi tribes have long-term agreements with neighboring cities, where they agree to mate for the purpose of continuing an incubus line. They get treated with gold and other riches in return.

  “There’s maybe a handful of succubi who leave their tribes to live with the males of our species out of pure love. We’ve been separated like this for millennia now, long before I was even born. Lust is in our genes, and it’s what keeps our species going. Marriage is a contract of convenience. Love is rare and precious,” Bijarki explained.

  “So, you do look for love.” I heard my conclusion roll off my tongue and felt myself blush when his gaze softened and his lips stretched lazily into a smile.

  “Lust is common in Eritopia. Love is a foreign concept. But when it does happen, it consumes, and it takes hold of one’s soul. When an incubus falls in love, it’s equal parts extraordinary and painful. It’s intense but worth it. At least that’s what I’m told,” he said slowly.

  “You’ve never been in love?” I asked, even as I reprimanded myself for such brazen curiosity.

  What am I trying to get out of him?

  Bijarki tilted his head and leaned against the back of his chair, while his expression sent heatwaves in my direction.

  I gripped my coffee cup and sipped quietly, unable to break eye contact. Whatever I was getting myself into with these questions, a part of me—a much bigger part of me than I wanted to admit—was very curious to find out where it would lead.

  “I’ve never been in love, no,” came his response.

  I measured my breath and nodded in return, out of words and thankfully out of intimate questions to ask.

  “But then again, up until a few days ago I didn’t even consider the concept,” Bijarki continued, prompting me to pay more attention to his elusive body language. His slow and deliberate movements were telling me something new. “I’ve never met anyone I could consider capable of stirring me in any way, until I laid my eyes on you.”

  My heart started racing again, and my fingers fiddled with the cup’s delicate porcelain handle. I needed something menial to do just to keep myself together.

  “You see, you fascinate me, Vita. You’re a creature of contrasts, and I’m having a hard time figuring you out. That's never happened to me before. I usually look at people, and I can immediately tell what they are, what they would do in certain situations, and how I feel about them. But you? You stun me.”

  His words rolled out without inhibitions and crashed into me. I lowered my gaze and felt the heat rising into my throat and spreading to my cheeks. I felt naked, completely powerless before him, and yet I wanted to hear more. I needed to hear him say all those things because they all confirmed something that had been eluding definition in my mind for a while.

  “I am attracted to you, yes,” he said. “Despite the tragic circumstances, I can’t seem to get you out of my head. Last night, the succubi wanted me. They lingered around me as we feasted around the campfire.”

  My heart twisted in knots at the thought of succubi seducing him, and I looked up. I got lost in his eyes, two pools of silver that flickered
with distant lights, telling me a little bit more than his words.

  “But I turned them all down. I couldn’t get you out of my mind, not even for a second, not even with all those gorgeous creatures offering me their bodies to satisfy everything that has been burning inside of me lately. You have my full attention, young fire fae.”

  I was speechless, my mind blank, my fingers trembling on the cup’s handle. My body softened from the heat of his unexpected candor. My breath stopped, and I found myself unable to take my eyes off him.

  He sat up straight and added another pancake to his plate, eating as if nothing had happened, as if he’d just told me the weather conditions for tomorrow or something equally as trivial.

  I was baffled as I combed through his statement and broke it down in my head phrase by phrase. It seemed like a confession of sorts. His words resonated deeply inside of me, and I had to figure out how I felt about that. I’d already accepted the fact that I was attracted to him. I just didn’t expect him to genuinely feel the same way. What was I supposed to do with this new information?

  He broke through my thoughts. “That being said, I am also aware that you’re not immune to my incubus nature, and I swear to you, on everything I hold dear, that I am doing my best to keep my powers under control whenever I’m around you. If you ever come to me, it will be of your own accord, not my influence. I’ve promised to keep my distance from you, as you’ve asked. And I can assure you that my intentions are good. But you can’t ask me to turn off what I feel, because I can’t. I want you. And that won’t change.”

  I was stunned. A bright fire blazed inside me, ignited by a flicker of lust. His effect over me was undeniable. I’d frequently doubted it to be genuine, choosing to blame it on his incubus nature.

  Yet now he was telling me that he’d been keeping himself under control around me, leaving me to conclude once more and with even more certainty that everything I’d been feeling toward him was of my own making, something I could no longer deny or control.

  I needed a few deep breaths to gather enough sense to respond to his statement.

  He’d been so kind, so open and respectful, and I’d been acting like a damsel made of ice, loaded with biting remarks, and unable to admit that everything I was feeling about him was real.

  “We’re in this mess together, all of us,” I replied, my voice barely a whisper. “We need to get along in order for this alliance to work, in order for us to defeat Azazel. You keeping your distance from me seems counter-productive at this point in time, and I see no need for it. You’ve been nothing but good and decent toward me. I have no reason to push you away.”

  His expression changed, softening into something I didn’t quite recognize. I wondered if it was because it came from an incubus who had been trained for war, not feelings. He nodded in response, and I saw him relax in his chair. He smiled. His eyes darted around the room and occasionally settled on me.

  I finished my meal in silence, while my body deliciously ached in his presence.

  But exhaustion soon claimed me, and I excused myself. I’d deal with my reaction to Bijarki later.

  I fell asleep next to Aida, my bones heavy while my heart fluttered in my chest.

  Serena

  I helped Draven to his room as soon as the clouds started to gather above the mansion in heavy, gray rolls.

  Everyone else had scattered off to eat, shower, and sleep the events of the day off.

  My mind battled with an array of thoughts and memories from the morning, unable to settle on one thing in particular.

  Draven didn’t say much once we got to his room. I stopped in the doorway, leaving him to walk in on his own. My intention was to leave him there, then take a long bath and sleep for an eternity.

  My feet felt heavy, and my heart had sunk even deeper as I came to terms with my mistake of forcing the Daughter out of her sleep. The repercussions weren’t clear just yet, other than her lack of knowledge. We didn’t even know if her sisters would retaliate in any way, but the one aspect that seemed to worry me the most was the fact that I’d upset Draven. I could feel it in the tone of his voice. I’d broken something, and I felt terrible.

  He moved to the bed and started unbuttoning his shirt.

  My eyes followed the motions of his fingers. My throat dried up, stirring memories of our kiss and how close we’d gotten to virtually consuming each other. Reason told me to leave, but my body and my soul didn’t listen.

  “We’ll have to do an intensive session tomorrow with the Oracles,” Draven said as he removed his shirt. “I’ve asked Anjani to prepare some potions to help with the immersion. Time isn’t on our side.”

  He slipped out of his boots and stilled for a moment, as if listening for something.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Me? N-nothing,” I stuttered, breathing heavily.

  I couldn’t stop admiring his broad chest and massive shoulders. His rune wounds had healed almost completely, leaving behind just a few faint lines that were lighter than his tan.

  “Come in. Stay here,” he commanded me, a roughness in his tone that I took to mean that he was still angry with me. Every time I thought about it, I felt worse and worse.

  “Why?” I asked, frustratingly unsure of myself.

  I wasn’t ready for another verbal pummeling over what had happened under the magnolia tree and my rash use of a shovel.

  “What do you mean why?” He shot back. He sighed and changed his demeanor, as if realizing he’d sounded abrupt. “Please stay. I won’t be long.”

  He walked into the bathroom, his fingers passing over the nearby furniture for guidance, and closed the door behind him. I stood there for a while, motionless, trying to find a way to smother the regrets that were so quick to bubble up in me.

  I wanted to go back to that tent, before we’d stepped back out into the world. I wanted to get lost in his arms again, our lips and minds fused into a single sentient being that knew nothing of pain or sorrow.

  Eventually I settled in the armchair where I’d slept before and stared outside the window as the rain knocked on the glass. Thunder echoed beneath the charcoal sky. I caught a glimpse of lightning here and there, zigzagging white lines disappearing in the distance. I closed my eyes for a few minutes and started mentally flipping through Draven’s memories from our mind-meld again. It felt like a safe place right now.

  I got a good look at his father. Draven was the spitting image of him with hair the color of sand pouring down his wide shoulders, inquisitive steel eyes, and a smooth nose. Almus had sharper edges, though, as if he’d been roughly carved into stone and brought to life, whereas Draven’s face followed slightly softer lines around his temples and cheeks, with dark brown eyebrows bent in a soft arch.

  I watched Draven run around in the backyard with Elissa, laughing in the sun. She looked so happy, so light and full of love. This lonely little boy deserved all the affection she gave him and more. My stomach twisted in knots as I remembered her death through his eyes. His youth and innocence had been forever marred by that moment, reminding me of how he spoke of Eritopia when we first met. It’s cruel, and it will kill you, he’d said. My eyes felt wet.

  The bathroom door opened, startling me upright as I wiped the tears from my eyes. My grief at the thought of Draven’s unimaginable pain and loneliness was quickly stuffed somewhere in the back of my head, as the sight of him wearing nothing but a towel around his narrow waist came into full view.

  My senses started glitching, my eyes scanning him from head to toe, taking in every inch of wet skin and muscle beneath. I bit into my lower lip as I felt my body succumb to a series of unstoppable heatwaves. I tightened my fingers into fists in a pathetic attempt to keep my cool.

  He stood there for a while, quiet and still steaming from his shower, enough for me to forget who or what I was. My mind went blank.

  “There are some clean shirts and gowns in the bottom drawer here,” Draven said, his finger pointing at the chest of dr
awers by the wall next to the bathroom door. “Pick something out and take a shower. I’m guessing you need one as much as I needed mine. I’ll be waiting.”

  Yet another command in a rigid tone. This man was a walking, talking contradiction, and once again I felt childishly insecure around him, not knowing whether he was still upset with me or just being his usual authoritarian self.

  “What…what do you mean?” I managed to ask. My throat was parched.

  “I would like for you to stay here with me today.”

  His request was simple, yet I couldn’t focus properly. My energy was at critically low levels, yet my insides burned in his proximity. My brain wasn’t helping with anything.

  “Why?”

  “Serena, we’ve been through enough already,” Draven replied, his voice softening. “I just want you close to me, not wandering around and out of my reach.”

  He baffled me, defeating my resolve with a single sentence. How could I say no to that?

  I let a sigh roll out of my chest and pulled a long, white linen shirt from the bottom drawer, along with some matching, ankle-length briefs. These were men’s clothes but, given they belonged in the 19th century or so, they could pass for women’s attire now. Not that it mattered much in this mansion, lost in a corner of Eritopia.

  I slipped into the shower and felt myself come alive under the water stream. I washed the dirt away and abused the lavender scented soap bar. When I was finally clean, I stepped out of the tub and wiped myself dry with a towel.

  My mind wandered back to the Daughter. I had so many questions for her, but given her current condition, I wasn’t going to get any answers. She didn’t even know her own name, not to mention what her powers were and what she could do against Azazel and his horde of Destroyers. She was fragile and defenseless, and I only had myself to blame for that.

  With hindsight rapidly smacking me over the head, guilt reared its ugly head again. I felt the bathroom walls closing in. I shook my head and took a few deep breaths, then slipped into the shirt and briefs, which hung loosely on me. The linen was soft and dry, and it felt good against my skin.