Fangs for the Memories
Mike opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling of the castle suite for almost twenty minutes, trying to make up his mind regarding Lady Charlotte and what to say. While in the Dreamscape, he had held a small conference with the others regarding most of his ideas, then had those familiar with vampyr lore chat with him about the most likely outcome of his plan.
During this discussion, Dream Lily had summoned a rather large telescope and pointed it at the sky. When pressed for an explanation, she had informed everyone that it was the only way she would be able to observe what she thought to be an astronomically stupid decision.
Dream Tink had offered to install a camera so that everybody could watch on a monitor. When Mike had asked if they could see everything he did while awake, Ratu reminded him that they were part of his soul, so they weren’t just watching, they experienced it all.
Tink promptly demanded that he eat someone’s ass.
Now, despite the warmth of the blankets, Mike felt a chill go through his veins. While asleep, Kisa had dropped in and informed him that the Fae had started tapping on all the windows of his home in order to drive the occupants insane. Ratu had magically sound-proofed the home in most places, but poor Abella was now living down in the Labyrinth to avoid losing her mind. The Fae were now trying to antagonize Beth and the others into retaliation, which meant they were likely getting bored or desperate. Mike wasn’t sure which of these was considered worse.
He had full confidence that Beth could handle whatever the Fae Courts threw at her. According to the women in his soul, Titania had not dropped by ever since revealing she was under close watch. Mike knew that the Queen was somehow in trouble, but that wasn’t a problem he was remotely capable of tackling right now.
Sitting up, he took a moment to rub Sofia’s butt through the thin fabric of the blankets. It really was a nice ass. He looked forward to winning their bet in the very near future.
“Hmm?” she muttered, still mostly asleep.
“Going out for a walk,” he told her, then scooted past Cerberus who was sleeping at the foot of the bed. Mike put on his clothes and headed for the door. Upon leaving the room, He saw Sulyvahn and Cecilia sitting by the fireplace below. They were speaking to each other in quiet tones, but paused to look up at him.
“Yer up early,” said Sulyvahn.
“To do the devil’s work,” Mike replied.
“Bless ye, then.” Sulyvahn flashed a short-lived grin. “Nyx still be out, makin’ plans and moves.”
“Let her,” Mike replied. “I have zero intention of waiting around for someone who doesn’t trust me enough to at least suggest what they might be doing.” In truth, he was done with her. Mike wanted either enemies, friends, or people who would just leave him the fuck alone. Nyx was somehow none of these things. “I’ll be back. I need to speak with Charlotte.”
“Do you want company?” whispered Cecilia.
“No,” Mike replied. “Not this time.”
The banshee looked disappointed. “Don’t forget to be back early. Taylor will have our clothes ready, but will probably need to make last minute adjustments.”
“This shouldn’t take long,” Mike replied as he moved for the main door. “If I’m not back by lunch, I’ve probably been murdered.”
“That’s not funny, mo chroí.”
“I’m not joking,” Mike said. “Send Cerberus to find me. I should be okay, but…” He didn’t bother speaking the alternative. What he was about to do next was a bad idea, but necessary.
Cecilia frowned, but nodded. Mike stepped through the entrance of the tower and onto the bridge. He let out a heavy sigh. This was all so stressful.
“That was pretty heavy,” said a voice from the bridge’s balustrade. It was Slade, his talons hooked into the stone.
“They have you on watch duty?” asked Mike.
The gargoyle shrugged. “We’re technically always on duty. Where are you off to?”
“Oh, you know me. Gonna walk the castle, get some exercise, maybe go flirt with Lady Charlotte a bit.”
Slade chuckled. “Better men than you have tried, my friend.”
“Did she throw them into the pit?” asked Mike.
“Maybe.” Slade shifted his wings. “I know one of them is still pretty broken up over it. Poor guy put his heart on the line and she rejected him.” He pointed toward one of the other towers. “Spent the last few years watching anything but her tower.”
“Oh, one of your people?” Mike fought to keep a grin off his face. “I didn’t know you guys were into humans.”
“Hey, it’s not all of us.” Slade suddenly looked offended. “It’s rare, but some of my kind find you fleshbags. appealing.”
“Fleshbags?” Mike put a hand to his chest in mock shock. “That almost sounds like a term of endearment! Are you sure you weren’t talking about yourself just a second ago? Are you Lady Charlotte’s admirer?”
Slade chuckled. “She is nice enough, but I like a girl who doesn’t hit the ground like a bag of soup. Someone far sturdier, if you catch my drift.” Slade moved his hands to his chest and pretended to squeeze a pair of breasts with some difficulty.
“Like bags of sand, right?” Mike repeated the gesture and both of them laughed. He waved to the gargoyle and continued on his way. Slade seemed like a really nice guy. Mike hoped that he wouldn’t have to fight the gargoyles, or the villagers either.
He probably wasn’t that lucky, though.
The walk through the castle took longer than expected. Part of this was due to the fact that Mike actively avoided areas with servants wandering about. The thralls were on autopilot, but he could see the faint, dark threads attached to them. He could not tell how many thralls belonged to Vincentius or the others, but he did notice most of the threads seemed to be concentrated toward the center of the castle, near the top.
The other problem was that the towers rotated while he was walking. So when he thought he had reached Charlotte’s tower, it had actually shifted three positions over. That was one of the things about the towers themselves that made little sense to him. They didn’t just move one place at a time, and the rotation was random. Was it based on something? What purpose did it serve?
“Stupid ass magic castle,” he muttered as he was forced to navigate the body of the structure once more. On this occasion, he didn’t waste energy bypassing the thralls, doing so may cost him precious minutes. He had no idea if Charlotte would even be in her tower. What if the vampyr had wandered into town, or had been called into another meeting with Vincentius?
By the time he made it to her tower, a cold sweat developed on the back of his neck. He hesitated before knocking, momentarily worried about what could come next.
I need to get home, he thought, then steeled his resolve into a fist and used it to knock. There was a long delay before a servant opened the door and stared at him with glassy eyes.
“May I speak with Lady Charlotte?” Mike asked. The thrall pulled the door open and allowed him to enter. Mike was forced to wait for a moment while the thrall checked in with Charlotte, then was led to the sitting room where the vampyr sat with a tray of tea on the table next to her.
The crimson light of Avalon cast ominous shadows across the room. Lady Charlotte sat next to the window, and it was clear by the mostly empty tea cup that she had been there at least a while.
“Please get our guest a cup,” she said, and the thrall vanished. The vampyr looked at Mike with tired eyes. “Is there something I can do for you, Lord Radley?”
“Perhaps.” His throat was unusually dry and he didn’t wish to speak until the thrall was dismissed. “What sort of tea are we having this morning?”
“A special blend made from apple blossoms and some sort of grass that grows here in Avalon,” she replied. When she lifted the cup to her lips, he noticed her hand trembling. “It…helps to take the edge off.”
“You really haven’t fed after all this time,” he muttered.
She shook her head. “I have not,” she admitted. “Not on a living creature, anyway. I should have perished long ago.”
“Why haven’t you?” he asked. “You seem like the kind of person who might have simply refused to eat and eventually perished.”
“I tried to,” she admitted. “Twice. Both times, I became a ravenous fiend, barely able to control myself. The first time, I was spared a terrible fate by my creator, who fed me blood from a wineskin. He wanted me to learn how desperate I would eventually become. The second time, my brother was the one who forced me to consume cow’s blood lest I prey on some children that Lady Cecilia had deliberately left in my care.”
It took Mike a moment to remember that she was referring to the false Cecilia. The fake names bit had grown old. “They really wanted to make you into something that you didn’t want to be.”
“Yes, I—” Charlotte paused and waited for the thrall to hand Mike a cup of tea. “That will be all,” she said.
The thrall bowed at the waist, then left the room.
Mike sipped at the tea and discovered it wasn’t too hot, so drank most of the cup and then set it down on a nearby table.
“How…alive are they?” asked Mike, gesturing toward the man who had just left.
Charlotte shook her head. “It’s hard to say,” she admitted. “It starts when they are partially turned. Some of them retain their intelligence, but times are lean, so they give themselves willingly again and again. Some become little more than walking husks. I’m not sure there’s anything left of the men or women they used to be.”
Mike thought back to some of the thralls he had seen with dim sparks flickering in their chests. It wasn’t just that their souls were weak. They had vanished. “When your people feed, do you have to take their souls?”
Charlotte shrugged. “I wouldn’t know for sure,” she said. “Every one of us is different. Amymone prefers flesh and bone. My brother prefers—” She winced as the dark vein closest to her pulsed. “We should speak on other things.”
“Have you seen this?” Mike asked, holding up his fingers so that a spider made of electricity appeared. It was a jumping spider, hopping from fingertip to fingertip.
“It’s beautiful,” whispered Charlotte.
“Magic is all about intent,” Mike said. “When you speak about how a first meal shapes you, I imagine it’s very much like this. My magic is always changing. Some time ago, I met someone special to me.”
“What happened?” Charlotte asked, watching the spider jump.
“I lost her,” Mike replied. “In doing so, I almost lost myself. The effect she had on me lingers to this day, and it looks like this.” He gestured for her to hold out her hand, and he sent the spider onto her palm.
“It tickles,” she said as it danced around. “What can it do?”
“Whatever I can imagine,” Mike told her. “My power goes far beyond this. As you are aware, some of it is intimate in nature.”
Charlotte’s cheeks turned red, but she didn’t look away from the spider. It was now climbing her fingers and doing somersaults down into her hand.
“But everything I do comes down to matters of the soul.” Mike reached out and took Charlotte’s other hand. “This will sound insane, but what if I agreed to let you feed on me?”
Charlotte’s head snapped up, her eyes briefly feral. “What?”
“I’ve seen how the process works,” Mike replied. “If I let you do it, you will be far stronger than you are now, maybe even strong enough to tilt the scales.”
“But you would…be less,” Charlotte whispered. “It is not just a matter of blood, Lord Radley.”
“You’re right.” Mike held up his hand and saw glimmers of his own soul circulating through his palms. “But I believe that I can keep you from taking that part of me. Or at least minimize the damage.”
“But you could become…like them,” she whispered, looking at the door the thrall had exited. “And would belong to me.”
“I really don’t believe you would,” he said. “And if you started to do it, I could stop you.”
“How?” she asked.
Mike reached out with his magic and plucked the strings of her soul as gently as possible. Charlotte let out a tiny gasp and put her hands to her chest, causing the tiny spider to fall from her hand and vanish like the dying ember of a fire.
“You still have a soul,” he told her. “I can see it. The others do as well, though they’re all wrapped up in a darkness I don’t quite understand. If push came to shove, I could protect myself from you.”
She shook her head. “You either underestimate me or overestimate yourself. Touching my spirit won’t amount to much. Even in my current state, I’m extremely dangerous.”
“So am I.” Mike leaned back in his seat and looked out the nearest window. “I’m currently looking down the barrel of a life sentence without my family. My children will grow up without me. My home will fall into disarray. The ones I swore to protect will be left to fend for themselves. I…” He took a deep breath. “Don’t see this as an act of kindness, Charlotte. This is a desperate plan, a Hail Mary effort to stack the odds more solidly in my favor.”
Charlotte blinked at him, then set down her teacup and contemplated his words. Eventually, when she broke the silence, it was to ask something unexpected.
“Do you really think that prayer will help us here?” she asked. “God has turned a blind eye to this place long ago.”
Mike winced. “It’s a sports metaphor, actually. Well, I guess it’s a sports metaphor based on a prayer, I’ve never really thought about it. Anyways, it means a play or strategy meant as a last-ditch effort to succeed. Look, I know I can’t make you do this, but…if it works…” He locked eyes with her. “You would add your strength to ours. Together, maybe we can make a miracle of our own.”
Lady Charlotte sat back in her chair, her fingers tapping anxiously on the arms of her seat. She was breathing hard now, her lips parting ever so slightly to reveal the tips of her fangs.
“On one condition,” she said.
Mike frowned. “It depends on the condition.”
“Should you actually overthrow…” She gestured in the general direction of the castle. “I want you to take the villagers with you.”
“Excuse me?” That caught Mike off guard. Perhaps he had been dealing with Nyx for too long.
Charlotte nodded. “They deserve a better life than the one they have here. Even if they are centuries behind in their ways and thinking. If you are who I believe you to be, then you would take them in and care for them, even if they are…different. Your predecessor was—”
The dark vein throbbing up above shifted down onto Charlotte, to listen in to what she was doing. Mike watched it wrap around the woman’s throat and squeeze.
Concern lined Charlotte’s face as she stared at Mike. It was likely that Vincentius had learned that Mike had gone to visit her, and wanted to know why.
“Lady Charlotte,” Mike said, moving closer to her. “While I appreciate the lengths that the Caretaker is going to for the party. I must tell you the real reason why I wanted you to tell him not to bother with younger women. You see, while I find the idea of being used as some sort of breeding stock for the village exciting, there is also a part of me that yearns for a partner that is my equal. Someone more elegant, more noble, refined.”
Charlotte studied his face, uncertain what game he was playing. The dark vein around her neck thickened. Clearly Mike had Vincentius’ full attention now.
“What do you mean?” she asked, her eyes shifting back and forth in nervousness.
“You are the smartest, most beautiful woman here,” he replied, hoping that Vincentius would buy it. “And I simply must have you.”
The vein throbbing around Charlotte’s neck practically shivered in anticipation. Mike could actually feel Vincentius’ delight through the thing.
“Me?” she asked with some surprise.
“I have dallied with subhumans for quite some time,” he said. “And the Caretaker clearly has specific views on marriage. I don’t want to just be breeding stock. I also want a wife, one who understands what’s at stake. But I didn’t know how to ask this of your Lord. The way you speak about him in private made me believe that he is also a father figure.”
“Um…” Charlotte looked confused, but seemed to be catching on. “We, uh, could tell him now, if you wished.”
“No,” Mike replied. “It may be bold, but we must handle this situation with care. I will make him aware of my demands tonight at the party, in front of everyone. You must ask this of him as well. The villagers love you. He will be forced to acquiesce or lose their favor. But first, I must know if you feel the same way about me.” He laid it on thick, channeling his inner soap opera star. He had overheard plenty of them in his house, mostly from Abella’s tablet.
Charlotte’s mouth opened and closed like a fish as she struggled with her response. Her eyes went wide, and Mike could actually feel a magical pulse descend through the ethereal vein around her throat. Looks like big daddy bloodsucker was sending her a V-mail.
“Yes,” she whispered, her face suddenly neutral again. “Let us…conspire further against the Caretaker.”
The vein withdrew so fast that it actually vanished into the ceiling. Mike looked up to see it disappear completely. Charlotte let out a long breath that almost sounded like a sob.
“I’m surprised he isn’t still listening in,” Mike replied.
“He is under the belief that I belong to him,” Charlotte whispered. “I’ve given him no reason to distrust me, other than my refusal to feed. While he was speaking with me, I told him how hungry you made me. He wants me to…take you as my thrall and let you continue to believe you are still in control. It would be very easy. Tonight, he will pick out women who are ovulating and have you impregnate them after the party.”
Mike chuckled. “I take it dinner is cancelled.”
“Unofficially?” She bit her lip. “It is likely that your friends will become dinner. The backup plan was to hold them hostage to force you to perform. If I take you as my servant, there is no need for any of that.”
Mike let out a sigh. “So either way, we’re at the endgame. It’s him or me. I feel like I’ve been dealing with this problem for months now.”
“Time is strange down here.” Charlotte looked away from him. “If you want, I could tell him that you left before I could feed. I still think your plan is too risky.”
“I don’t really have a better one,” he replied. “If I can’t handle the weakest vampyr, then how am I to stand against the strongest?”
“Don’t call me that,” she whispered.
“Why not?” Mike replied.
“Because they are foul creatures,” she replied. “Predators who see humans as nothing better than prey, incapable of resisting their very nature.”
Mike got on his knees in front of Charlotte and raised his hand to her face. Her skin was cold to the touch as he turned her head to face him. He smiled and brushed a stray hair away from her eyes.
“I think you could be different,” he said. “Remember what I said about intent? You and I would both be doing this to save and protect the ones we love. What sort of creature would that make, do you think?”
Charlotte’s nostrils flared. “An abomination,” she declared.
“You’re kind of pretty for an abomination.” Mike grinned. Charlotte had gone stiff in her seat. “C’mon. What’s a guy gotta do to get his blood sucked around here?”
“You are toying with fire, Lord Radley.” Charlotte was breathing hard now, and had moved a hand to her stomach. “This is madness.”
“I’m fireproof. And we’re all mad here.” He touched her face again, his wrist briefly pressed against her nose. “From where would it be best for you to feed? What would make the strongest connection?”
“Throat,” she rasped. “But it’s also…the most dangerous.” Charlotte sounded like she had just run a marathon.
“Then let’s get dangerous,” he muttered, and tilted his head to one side.
His danger sense lurched, but he remained motionless as Charlotte snarled and pounced on him. At first, he wasn’t even entirely certain that she had bitten him. It felt more like a sloppy hickey.
And then she pulled. His head became light as he felt the blood in his body shift dramatically, yanked away from its intended location. It wasn’t just his blood, either. His magic and his soul were carried with it, pulled along with his very life force.
Mike clamped his will down on his soul, causing it to stretch and fray, but never tear, as he pulled it back into himself. The dark storm that surrounded Charlotte’s soul clung to it like goo, desperately trying to subvert him to her will.
Two can play at that, he thought, and he grabbed onto the darkness and yanked it toward him instead. The thing shifted, fighting back as if it was under attack. As it writhed and squirmed, Mike could now see and feel how it was connected to Charlotte’s soul. The thing was like a parasite, controlling Charlotte in exchange for the power it granted. Or would that be a symbiote? His knowledge of those was largely restricted to the Venom movies, and he had only seen the first one.
Interesting, he thought as his vision started to dim. Charlotte was greedily sucking on his neck, and the edges of his vision were going dark. His grip on his soul slipped just a bit, and the darkness fought violently to claim him.
Enough, he thought as he sent his magic at it again. Charlotte’s whole body went rigid and she stopped sucking his blood and let out a whimper. Wondering what had happened, Mike realized that the strange power struggle wasn’t just happening on a spiritual level. His magic had traveled along the fastest path to fight back, which meant that Charlotte now had a bellyful of his special brand of magic.
Lady Charlotte moaned, her fangs popping free of his neck as her eyes rolled. She clutched his throat with one hand as she pushed him away with the other, her lips now ruby red and dripping with his own blood.
“You…taste like…” She shuddered, her hand squeezing his throat as she let out a long, loud moan. His magic now danced along the flesh of her arm as if in celebration, crawling across her body in triumph.
“Chocolate?” he offered.
“More,” she demanded, tearing off his shirt. She marched him across the room and onto a couch where she forced him onto his back. Growling, she bit into the same spot on his neck again, then drank.
His vision swam, and he realized that he was about to lose consciousness. “Charlotte, wait,” he said, pushing her away. “You need to…slow…” Feeling his physical strength ebb, he called upon his magic for help.
Mike’s eyes snapped open and he put his hands on Charlotte’s chest in an attempt to push her away. This resulted in him grabbing her breasts, which caused the vampyr to let go and stare at him with what he initially mistook for hunger. His magic danced across the back of his hands and onto her pale breasts.
“Slow down,” he said, then tried to pull his hands away. Charlotte responded by pinning his hands over her bodice.
“Squeeze,” she demanded. When he did so, she let out a groan and wrapped her legs over his body, frantically tearing at the fabric of her skirt as it bunched up between them. It didn’t take long for a tiny cry to escape her lips as her body shook beneath his hands.
“I don’t know that I’ve ever made someone come on second base,” Mike muttered in surprise. Talk about a confidence builder.
Charlotte narrowed her eyes and stared down at him. The lust that had been there was replaced once again with hunger, and she grabbed one of his hands and brought it to her mouth. He watched her fangs extend just before she bit into his wrist, slurping loudly as she dry-humped him on the couch.
From this position, he could see the process better. The dark maelstrom around her soul reached out for him, braiding itself into ropes in an effort to pull even harder.
Mike pulled at Charlotte’s bodice with his free hand, then summoned his magic into his fingertips and pressed them into what little flesh had already been exposed. Charlotte arched her back, her hunger temporarily changed to desire as she pressed her breast into the palm of his hand.
He grabbed the top of her bodice and pulled. Charlotte’s free hand went behind her back, her trembling fingers loosening the laces enough that the whole garment shifted downward, revealing pale flesh and a tiny nipple with a dime-sized areola around it. Her breast fit perfectly in the palm of his hand, and he teased her nipple with his thumb as his magic danced across it.
Charlotte hissed with pleasure, then let go of Mike’s hand and yanked her bodice down further with both hands, bringing both of her breasts into view. He pulled her forward, allowing him to suck on her nipples.
The vampyr came again. Her entire body was like a giant nerve, and a small bit of his magic reflected back at him. His cock strained against the fabric of his pants, and Charlotte let out a whimper when he flexed it. She seemed to be in some sort of daze, her eyes losing focus.
Her gaze snapped back on him and the hunger returned. She grabbed his wrist again and latched on with her teeth, growling like a contented lioness. The abrupt drop in blood pressure caused his vision to dim once more.
Mike pinched her nipples, sending another stream of magic into Charlotte’s body. Her desire overwhelmed her hunger, and she spat out his wrist before she grabbed him by the pants. With a yank, she shredded the fabric, allowing his cock to spring free.
Charlotte stared at it in awe, a small trickle of blood running down the corner of her mouth.
“Usually, I wouldn’t recommend this for beginners,” he said, flexing his cock. “But I get the feeling that enthusiasm will be worth more than experience.”
It was like Charlotte hadn’t even heard him. She just stared at his cock with a singular focus and panted heavily. For a moment, he worried that her hunger would win out again, and when she looked at him with red-tinged eyes, he wasn’t entirely certain what was going through her mind.
Lady Charlotte grabbed the edges of her skirt, pulling them away from her body as she climbed on top of him, her slender frame weightless against his own. The darkness boiling over inside of her demanded to be let out once more, but she had a new mission now.
The ruffles kept getting in the way. Mike tried to scoot them to the side, but Lady Charlotte managed to tear them in frustration. He was more than a little surprised when he felt a tangled nest of pubes followed by cool labia against the shaft of his cock.
“No underwear?” he asked.
Charlotte shook her head. “Why bother?” she asked. “That part of my body has had zero actual use for decades…until today.” Her hands traveled along his now bare chest as she traced the lines of his scars. “How did this happen?”
“Car accident,” he replied. “I caught on fire just a little.”
“I saw a car once,” she said. “When I was a little girl. It was a ridiculous thing.” Charlotte was grinding herself against him, her labia parting around him and coating his cock in her natural fluids. “You’re…rather big.”
He nodded. “The key is to take your time, and—”
Charlotte shifted her weight and grunted as the head of his cock slid in half an inch before coming to a halt. “If I can…handle the…post on my bed, I can…AHHH!”
The vampyr went still and trembled as Mike slid a few inches inside of her before coming to a halt. Her vaginal canal now gripped him like a vice, her body still cold to the touch.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Need…more…” Charlotte shifted her gaze toward his neck, then moved forward so fast that he didn’t see her. Her fangs penetrated his neck again and she drank heavily, her body now growing hot against his own.
Through the fog of being fucked and drained at the same time, it occurred to Mike that she needed his blood to power natural biological processes. Just how much blood did he still have in his body? If he was still hard, then maybe he was okay?
Charlotte groaned and sat upright, causing his cock to slide deeper inside of her. She gasped and wiggled her hips back and forth, slowly working him even further into her body. Her fangs retracted, and she was licking the blood from his neck and grunting.
Mike funneled his magic into her, making sure to keep her lust topped off. The darkness in her soul actually fought back, as if aware of what he was attempting to do.
What the hell was that thing? It had been much larger in the other vampyrs. Was it what caused vampirism? Or was it something else?
Charlotte let out a scream and forced herself the rest of the way onto Mike’s cock, then came so hard that her eyes rolled back into her head. Her whole body went rigid and she clawed helplessly at the air, her fingers briefly transforming into talons.
Mike thrust his hips up in an attempt to prolong her orgasm. His magic crawled along Charlotte, wrapping her in a web much similar to the one she had inside of her. He leaned forward to suck on her breasts, moving his hands up her sides and eventually her arms.
“St…still…”
“Mmm?” Mike asked, his tongue currently working on a nipple.
“Hungry.” Charlotte’s teeth found his neck again and she pulled. A low growl escaped her and she pinned him to the couch. The darkness tucked away inside of her unraveled, fighting back against Mike’s magic.
Oh shit, he thought. Regardless of Charlotte’s thoughts on the matter, that darkness of hers wanted to claim him. It was very much alive in the same way his own magic was.
Charlotte continued to ride him, grunting and moaning into his neck. Mike tried to roll her onto her back in an attempt to break away, but she stiffened her legs to keep him from doing so.
It only now occurred to him that he had no idea when Charlotte would technically be done feeding. He also didn’t know the difference between being a light snack, becoming a thrall, or even becoming a vampyr. Or would he be a vampire? That was technically a fourth option, right? Once again, he found himself in a dangerous situation facing hard choices because he hadn’t thoroughly considered his choices beforehand.
He could almost hear Dream Lily say, “I told you so,” inside his head.
Deep inside his soul, he felt something snap. His eyes rolled back in his head as he felt a vital part of himself break away and vanish. For just a moment, Charlotte took on a golden aura, one that he instantly recognized.
She had just swallowed a piece of his soul, along with some divinity. He didn’t really care for the latter, it was the former that was important. Had it just been a piece of him? Or was it a piece of someone else she had just eaten?
Letting out a roar, Mike stood up from the couch with Charlotte still impaled on his cock, her mouth on his neck. The vampyr let out a happy moaning sound as she wrapped her legs around him.
“Give that back,” he demanded as he tried to push her head away. When she didn’t come off, he took both of them to the ground where he pinned her down and properly fucked her.
This caused Charlotte to gasp, and release him. In that moment, Mike’s magic surged through her body, but he commanded it to run through him instead. Even now, he could see a tiny piece of his soul being stretched out like taffy by the darkness that lay within her.
“That’s mine,” he roared as he fucked her. Charlotte’s hands wrapped around his back and she dragged her nails across him, drawing blood.
Mike came, and the soul swap began. This time, as the magic crawled across both of them, he didn’t take a piece of Charlotte's soul from her. Instead, he yanked away the piece from the darkness she had consumed and gave her a different piece of his soul, one that he knew was entirely his to give.
Charlotte’s eyes turned blood red and she immediately latched onto his neck again, growling as she devoured more of him. As Mike’s orgasm ended, her own began, but the darkness was relentless. Mike had just stolen away its meal and it was pissed.
When Charlotte came, she didn’t let go. Instead, she swallowed another piece of Mike, which he immediately took back by forcing himself to come inside of her. The two of them soon became a hot, sticky mess on the floor as they continued to fight for control, Charlotte consuming his soul just as fast as he took it back.
Mike lost track of time and the number of orgasms he had experienced. Between being drained like a Capri-Sun during summertime and general exhaustion, he actually felt his hold on consciousness waning. Charlotte was in the throes of another orgasm, her face bright pink with life as she came beneath him. Another piece of his soul lay deep in her belly, the darkness wrapped around it protectively as it tried to devour it. He wanted to keep going, to see this through, but his body had become the weak link here.
Failure was not an option! He needed to get home to his family, to boot the Fae off his lawn, and he still needed to find a cure for Tink. In thinking about the goblin, a new kind of inspiration took hold. Looking down, he could actually see the throbbing vein in Charlotte’s throat. Her heart beat slowly, but beat, it did.
Something in his soul clicked into place. A ravenous hunger suddenly consumed him.
“That’s MINE,” he said as he leaned down and sank his own teeth into Charlotte’s neck.
He felt the vampyr go rigid in his arms, and she cried out. “Don’t! My blood is poisonous!”
Mike didn’t care. He was immune to poison, and would rely on his magic to take care of the rest. He sucked greedily at her throat, and the darkness inside of Charlotte shifted. Part of it broke off and entered him, and his magic immediately set upon it, tearing it to shreds.
His body ran cold as the world went dark around him. He was only vaguely aware of the hot blood in his mouth and the woman moaning beneath him. Mike’s soul detached from his body and floated up to survey the scene.
The darkness within circled him, wrapping itself around his ankles and wrists.
You could have it all, the darkness whispered to him. Not just her loyalty. Her strength. Her speed. Her power.
“I don’t…” His thoughts felt fuzzy. Down below, Mike’s body was ravishing Charlotte’s.
You’re different from the others, the voice whispered. Stronger to begin with. You would rival the progenitor. He was but a mortal.
“Progenitor?” Mike was currently too dumb to process what the word meant. Was it like a prodigy? An ancestor?
The darkness closed in, wrapping itself around his neck. On your own, you can take what you want. With me, you could take everything. Down below, Charlotte’s whole body glowed. And not just from her, either. You could hunt the others, devour their strength, and then rip Vincentius’ head off with your bare hands.
“Don’t…you…work for him?” Mike asked.
The darkness chuckled. I was born of him. But aren’t children supposed to surpass their parents?
“Parents?” The word cut through the mental fog that assailed him.
We could be something special together, the voice whispered. Capable of doing the impossible. Of saving your beloved wife. There is nothing you couldn’t have, no power we couldn’t—
“Shut up.” He grasped for the darkness, but it was slippery.
All you have to do is feeeeeeed. The voice was urgent. Charlotte whimpered, her body weakening beneath him. Feed until you’ve taken it—
“NO.” Mike grabbed the darkness that had encircled his soul. “Get off of me!”
You can’t— The darkness struggled and fought as Mike tried to yank it away. You can’t resist!
“Yeah, well guess what?” Mike closed his eyes and felt the sand of the Dreamscape beneath his toes. “I’m not the only one in here, asshole.”
Multiple hands tore away at the darkness, ripping it away from his soul. It let out a high-pitched wail as his women briefly appeared, freeing him from his bonds. Golden light sliced through the tendrils like a knife and the darkness crumbled into ash.
Outside of the tower, thunder cracked as a storm brewed over Avalon.
Charlotte moaned as the remaining darkness inside her body recoiled and tried to hide. Mike, now back in control of his body, sucked even harder on her flesh, his magic wrapped around both of them like a cocoon. In the back of his head, he became dimly aware of his magic scouring Charlotte’s soul to take back what wasn’t hers and searched the darkness that remained.
The vampyr cried out and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight.
“Yes, Mike, yesssss.” He could feel her hot tears against his cheek and neck. “I’m yours, now, yours!”
The darkness fled, but had nowhere to run. Mike let go of the vampyr’s throat and sat up, his eyes wild as he stared down at the black mass that attempted to huddle behind Charlotte’s soul.
Snarling, he put a hand on her chest and ripped it free. Most of it tore like tissue paper, falling apart and ceasing to exist beneath his touch. The rest trembled and hid in fear, finally recognizing that Mike was no longer prey. His touch now promised oblivion.
Charlotte gasped for air as if she had been underwater. The dim red light in her eyes went out as she looked up at Mike. The two of them stopped moving and stared at each other. They were covered in blood and cum. Mike took a look around the room and saw that they had destroyed much of the furniture.
Breathing hard, he looked back at Charlotte and realized that most of her clothing was gone.
“Mike.” Charlotte’s voice was soft. “Get off of me.”
Feeling suddenly self-aware, Mike pulled his cock out of Charlotte and sat back. The room felt oddly humid, a result of the battle between his magic and…well, whatever that black stuff had been.
Charlotte scooted away from him, then rolled onto her stomach with her ass in the air.
“One more time,” she whispered. “Take me from behind and make me yours forever.”
Nodding silently, he grabbed her hips and penetrated her. His magic seized hold of the darkness that remained inside of her, and it submitted immediately. Instead of fighting back or trying to hide, it allowed his magic to take hold of it and mold it into something different and new.
Mike fucked her this way for a few more minutes before Charlotte came again. He didn’t bother finishing, he was depleted. She went limp and rolled onto her back, and he leaned over her, softly caressing her face.
“What…just happened?” he asked, licking the taste of copper off his lips.
“I don’t know,” she replied with a whisper. “But I am different now. I have fed and become something more.” Charlotte reached up and touched his face. “Something more that belongs to you.”
“Belongs to…” Confused, Mike sat up. Charlotte followed him, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist as if afraid he would leave. “Nobody belongs to me,” he said.
“That isn’t up to us,” she replied. When he looked back down at her, he saw what appeared to be a golden thread of silk wrapped tightly around her soul. He traced it with his eyes and was more than a little surprised to see that it was connected to him.
“Uh…” He stared at the link between them, now recognizing where he had seen it. It was similar to the kind of link that connected Vincentius to his vassals.
“Oh. Shit.”
---
The hour was early as Nyx hopped across the rooftops of the village. She would pause every few minutes and sniff the air before continuing. Her prey was elusive, incapable of leaving behind any tracks.
She was on the hunt for memories. Most of the village was already beholden to her, and while she had sifted through their thoughts, she wasn’t capable of seeing what the others had. Reading the memories of a mortal was like flipping through a storybook but only looking at the pictures. Humans were more likely to cling to certain memories, and Nyx hadn’t known before exactly what she was looking for.
She did now.
The Fae stopped on a particular rooftop and gazed down the smokestack. The fire below was being used for a stew. Avalon never truly got cold unless the resident Fae allowed it, of which there were currently none. Nyx slid down the chimney and gracefully slipped away from the iron kettle above the flames. She narrowed her eyes at the thing, but decided not to take umbrage. No reasonable acquaintance would expect a friend to come in this way, and the door was now missing the lucky horseshoe that Nyx had demanded be removed.
This home belonged to one of the oldest inhabitants, a married couple who would likely become food in the next six months to a year. Nyx crept quietly to their bedroom and stared at them with a mixture of curiosity and disgust.
Mortals were the epitome of wasted potential. Their lifespans were miserably short, which should have provided some sort of intrinsic motivation to achieve, to become more than they are. Yet, they chose to piss away those brief lives on useless things in an effort to one-up each other. They made her think of crabs in a bucket. When one tried to crawl out, the others would just pull it back in.
She couldn’t fault the mortals here in Avalon, though. The power structure had functioned against them. There could be no desire to achieve more, as they had been raised to believe that this place was all there was. They didn’t even have the benefit of others to tell them that there was something outside of this realm, a place where humanity had tried to touch the stars.
Nyx shook her head and let out a sigh. Mortals had been disappointing her since Arthur. There was no use hoping for any better. Mike Radley had such potential, but the man was like a sharpened knife held by a child. If only his goals aligned with hers…
“Remember,” she whispered, her voice draping across the sleeping couple like a blanket. The room disappeared around them, but the bed remained. They were now inside of what could have been a church or school, all the children of the village. There were perhaps forty of them, all huddled between the pews as Lady Charlotte walked around their periphery.
“Stay away from the windows,” she said, her voice trembling with sadness.
Nyx immediately moved to the windows and saw that they had been boarded up. There were patches in this memory, but she allowed it to play out. Shrieks of pain and terror could be heard outside of the building, but Charlotte attributed the sound to those who were dying of a mysterious plague.
Children called out for their parents, but the building had been boarded up from the inside. There were giant patches in the memory itself, places where neither sleeper had looked. The image became fuzzy in those places and lacked any sort of detail.
Nyx rewound the memory and played it again, closely monitoring. This church didn’t look like the current one in town, which meant she couldn’t just demand the building’s memories to see what had occurred. The sleepers tossed and turned, clearly troubled by what they saw.
The Fae Princess let out a hiss of disappointment, then looked through the memories one last time. She identified a few children who happened to be diligently watching the windows while they were awake. Nyx allowed the memory to end, then sifted through some different ones to identify the kids who had what she needed.
She spent most of the evening moving from home to home, entering and assembling the collective memories of the adults sleeping there. Eventually, she was able to piece together quite a bit of information regarding the night of the Culling.
The children had been gathered up during an enchanted slumber, most of them waking in the church and being told that they had just survived a powerful illness. Some of the children had fleeting memories of being put to sleep by figures that darkened their doorway. Others still found it odd that the sick outside the building still had so much energy to scream.
As bleak as the memories were, the main thing the children remembered was the kindness of Lady Charlotte. She tended to her flock, cradling children who cried for their mothers, and teaching some of the older kids songs in her native tongue. Every sleeper who remembered anything of detail had buried this tragic memory as deep as they could.
Yet some had seen. A little girl of about six had found a seam in the boards, and had watched. The ominous shadows that had flitted about in this twilight realm had meant little to her, but they were everything to Nyx.
The Fae Princess was able to use this memory to locate where the church had been. Unsurprisingly, it was marked by a small memorial on the edge of town that overlooked the strange pit beneath Vincentius’ castle. Since it had been constructed after the Culling, nothing Nyx demanded of it gave her any information to work on.
Stone always remembered, but only what it had seen. The decorative headstones and monument here had been carved from the cliffs, and only knew the memorial service that the faux Caretaker had performed. They had been there to witness the tears of the children and watch them grow, occasionally visiting the dead with news of the living and bringing gifts of flowers.
The original village had been razed during the Culling and a new one built to better tell the story of the Caretaker and his vassals. The children were told that everything had been burned to eradicate the illness, a convenient lie that allowed Vincentius to hide his crimes.
With morning well on its way, Nyx needed something, anything that could give her an edge over Vincentius and his nest. In her mind, she would assemble a grand memory of what had truly transpired and share it with the partygoers, forcing them to confront the horrible truth, then demand their allegiance in overthrowing the Carefaker.
And yet…nothing.
She ran through several decades of memories, just in case she had missed something. It was by a stroke of luck that the memorial remembered a young woman gifting it with a stone cross. Nyx quickly latched on to that memory and watched it.
“Hello, Ma.” It was a young woman from the village, her identity unimportant. She had one hand on a swollen belly and was kneeling at the memorial. “I miss you every day. The baby is coming soon, and I’m—”
“Blah blah blah,” Nyx muttered, moving forward in the memory.
“Anyway, I’ve been holding onto this,” whispered the girl as she pulled a stone cross out of her pocket. It was worn as if fingers had rubbed at its edges for years. “I found it where our old house used to be, it must have survived the burnings. I’ve always had it in my head that it was yours, you know. A way for a mother to keep watch over her daughter—”
“Ugh, mortals,” Nyx groaned, then skipped ahead.
“I know we’ve been told to cast things like this into the void, but—”
“Who is she even talking to?” asked Nyx. Clearly, the dead weren’t around to hear anything. She skipped ahead in the memory to where the woman left the cross on the memorial like an offering. It would sit there for several weeks before accidentally getting brushed to the side by a contribution of flowers. Eight months later, someone would accidentally kick it twelve feet away where the grass and soil would slowly consume it over time.
Nyx plunged her fist into the dirt, her fingers closing around the stone cross and ripping it free. Grinning like a madwoman, she spoke to the stone ornament.
“Remember,” she demanded, and was immediately taken to the night it had fallen off its original owner’s neck. It was a peasant woman in her late twenties fleeing from her home as Victoria feasted on her husband. Nyx watched from the cross’ point of view as the woman’s family was either consumed or rounded up. The memory itself wasn’t very strong, as the cross hadn’t seen very much up until that point.
When Nyx dug a bit deeper, she was able to ride along with the pendant while the woman fled from the center of town. The villagers were screaming as the vampyrs hunted them. It was in the midst of these memories that Nyx finally found the treasure she was looking for.
It happened in an unassuming alley between two buildings. One had been a shop, the other a bakery. The mortal running past heard the sound of flames and had looked between the structures in time to see Decima wrapped around the figure of a gargoyle as it blew hot flames on her.
The vampyr was unperturbed as it brought a thick fist down on the gargoyle’s shoulder and shattered it.
Nyx was almost giddy as she skipped into town to find where this had happened. The area was next to the main square. She dropped to her knees and questioned the stones.
Their answers were largely useless. Roads didn’t distinguish between those who walked them, but Nyx took them back to when they had been put together. Sifting through the road’s construction, she watched as a small army of thralls built the new village square over the course of what may have been three days. The old village had been burned to the ground, leaving behind only rock.
Thralls had no way of knowing if a stone came from the earth or a creature made of it. Licking her lips, she ignored the sounds of the village waking up around her as she wiggled a chunk of stone out of the road and held it up.
It was a fingertip.
This wasn’t enough, but it was a start! Giggling manically, she picked up more tiny pieces of the gargoyle who had been, its corpse motionless and watching as the thralls came and swept its brethren away. The bigger pieces had become part of something else, and Nyx found herself at the base of someone’s home, prying loose a rock the size of a fist.
“Lady Nyx?” asked the man who owned the home. His name was Potter, or maybe that was his occupation, it didn’t matter. Nyx hissed at him, and he left her in a hurry. Turning the stone over, she found herself looking at an eye.
“Yes!” she cried, then took a bucket from a woman who had apologized for bumping into her three days ago. With even more pieces, she had more answers, and found herself splashing in the village fountain, eagerly prying up the stones along the bottom. The thralls had used anything that would fit together, and Nyx looked very much like a kelpie as she pressed two pieces of stone together to reveal the lower portion of a face, frozen in mid-scream.
The distant rumbling of thunder broke her concentration, and Nyx looked up toward Vincentius’ castle. The villagers were awake now, gathering water and gossiping about tonight’s festivities. But only her ears could pick up the low bass rumbling coming from the castle itself as the foundation trembled.
It was the sound of Mike using his magic. What could that foolish mortal be up to today? Nyx’s nostrils flared as she inhaled deeply through her nose, attempting to catch a hint of what he had been doing.
It took her a moment to isolate the true Caretaker’s magic from the ambient scents of Avalon. Though it was faint, she could smell the sweet scent of fresh grass being clipped, the castings now rotting beneath the sun. It was the smell of freshly plowed soil revealing the damp death underneath. She sniffed again, uncertain what it was that she detected, then froze up in horror.
“No,” she gasped, dropping the stones into the water. She stared at the castle, oblivious to those around her.
Mike had mated with one of the vampyr, his magic swapping soul pieces! But why?!? Her heart pounded in her chest as she scrambled around for the loose stones she had dropped.
Frankly, she didn’t care that Mike had mated with someone. She already had a guess as to whom. No, what bothered her most was that Mike had chosen to fuck that FILTHY DEAD THING and never ONCE cast a SECOND GLANCE in HER DIRECTION!
The water around Nyx boiled and people cried out in alarm as the Fae Princess stomped out of the fountain and let out a scream of rage.
“How could he? HOW COULD HE!”
None of the mortals had answers. They were just as useless in life as they would be in death. Nyx glared down into the bucket and saw the unseeing eye that looked up at her from within.
“I’ll show him the error of his ways,” she declared, then glared at everyone standing nearby. It was time to show Mike Radley what he was truly missing once and for all.
The Fae Princess tried to hop onto the breeze and ride the wind, but forgot how heavy the bucket was and crashed. When a man laughed at her, she cursed him to never speak again and then stomped off with her bucket of broken memories.
---
It was still early morning when Callisto got up and left his yurt to see a sky just barely touched by the rising sun. Part of him wanted to sleep in still, he’d been up late for a celebratory feast. A pair of twins had been born to the tribe, which were not only extremely rare, but considered a sign of luck and good fortune. Neither had been born with the aberrations their parents had suffered.
Many of the centaurs in the tribe had a trait that uniquely defined them as impure according to traditional centaur views. It could be something as simple as a malformed hand, or hooves that looked more like a human foot. His own mother suffered a bizarre defect where her genitals were those of a human, but he at least understood why that one was sort of a big deal. She had almost died during childbirth with him, after all.
A natural fear for the tribe was that these anomalies were somehow genetic, or that the centaurs were predisposed to generating similarly disabled offspring. In fact, the opposite seemed to be true. Only a couple of centaurs had been born with any sort of disability since the tribe’s inception, and those had been minor quality of life issues.
A thick mist clung to the valley and jungle terrain. Ever since their world had been connected directly to the one with the merfolk, the shift in humidity meant that cooler mornings often produced it. The seasons here didn’t quite follow the ones on Earth, but the temperatures did fluctuate accordingly.
Not that Callisto knew what was happening on Earth. The greenhouse gate had been officially sealed for over a couple of weeks now. He couldn’t even go hang out with Grace, who was locked up inside the house.
Feeling mildly annoyed, he went to the communal eating area where a few centaurs had prepared breakfast. A rich oatmeal made with honey and some sugar complemented the sausage and egg omelet he carried on a plate over to one of the eating counters. He decided that he felt a bit more grown up than usual and tried to stand at the adult counter. This served to put the food roughly at the same height as his face.
“Damnit,” he muttered, then pretended it was no big deal to eat this way. Some of the other adults smiled kindly at him. They all seemed aware that he was annoyed by his unknown rate of growth. Other kids his age could already eat at this counter without any issues.
He hated being the smallest.
“Morning, Callisto.” Nima strolled on by with a sausage on a stick, the young centaur munching on it happily. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping in?”
“Why?”
“Because a growing boy needs his sleep.” Nima smirked at him and took a bite of the sausage.
Callisto groaned inwardly. Those had been the exact same words his mother said last night. She liked to intertwine human and centaur vernacular to accustom him to the dual worlds he lived in, but being called boy in front of his peers rather than a foal or perhaps even a young stallion just felt so…inadequate.
“Go eat a dick, Nima. Oh, wait. You already are.”
Nima frowned at his meal, then shrugged. “This is not a dick. Therefore, I am not eating one.”
“Of course not,” Callisto replied. “And when you slurp on it, you definitely aren’t mimicking latent desires that have yet to blossom.”
Nima’s brow scrunched up in confusion. “Huh?”
“Never mind,” Callisto muttered. This was yet another human colloquialism that was lost on his kind. That, and Nima was too stupid to realize he was being insulted. Callisto would have to stoop to the boy’s level. “You poop on your own hooves.”
“I DO NOT!” Nima swung his sausage on a stick and Callisto ducked out of the way. The meat slid off the skewer and smacked one of the early morning hunters in the chest. She frowned at the grease stain on her tunic, then glared at Nima.
The young centaur swallowed and galloped off, leaving a dust trail behind him.
Feeling like he had gotten the better of that exchange, Callisto resumed his meal with a smug grin.
The rest of the tribe was slowly awaking now. The shepherds were headed out to check on the herds. The jungle had been seeded with wild game some time ago, and they lacked any natural predators, other than the mandragora plant. That thing was primarily eating food given to it by the islanders right now, but it still liked to lure the occasional deer or elk to its doom.
Eventually, Zel appeared and some of the other centaurs stepped away from their counters to speak with her immediately. She was always so busy, which was part of the reason that the current state of affairs at the house was so obnoxious for Callisto. On days like today, he could pop by the house and at least count on somebody there to hang out with him. If his father wasn’t dealing with anything difficult, he’d drop things to play with him.
Callisto let out a small sigh and picked up his empty plate and bowl, which he took to wash at the trough. The people in charge of cooking smiled politely as he put his cutlery on a drying rack. The young centaur cast a look back at his mother and saw that a line had formed.
He already felt like today would be one of those days. Trotting quietly toward the edge of camp, he stared out across the large field that separated the tribe from the jungle. A couple of centaurs were milling about, and a third was practicing their archery. Callisto paused to watch the centaur shoot at the target, his mind wandering to the fletcher’s daughter, Adhara.
It had been some time since he had made an effort to go see her. They only ran into each other while socializing or playing with others. Last week, Callisto had gone down to the frog pond and spotted Adhara with three of her friends on the bank, braiding each other’s tails. He had attempted to stick around and chat with her, but the other fillies had kept giggling at their stilted exchange so he finally got frustrated and left.
Callisto watched the centaur shoot a bullseye from over two hundred yards and applauded politely. If the archer noticed, they paid him no mind.
“Maybe a visit would be in order,” Callisto muttered under his breath, then turned in the direction of Adhara’s yurt. It was past the edge of town, but only because it also hosted a dedicated archery range. Arrows could be crafted, fletched, and immediately tested for their accuracy.
Callisto galloped away from the center of his village and took a side trail on his way out. He didn’t want to show up so soon after breakfast. The last thing he wanted was to appear overeager. Slowing his pace, he decided to take a detour and maybe throw some rocks at logs or something.
In a small field, about a mile from Adhara’s home, he found a handful of stones and identified his target, which was a tree stump. Rolling the rocks around his hand, he took aim at his target and nodded to himself every time he hit the stump.
“I wish my dad was home,” he said, speaking his worries aloud to the stone in his hand before casting it. Such activities were illogical in scope, but he did find a manner of relief in speaking his concerns out loud while participating in the ritual of throwing his worries away. “I miss Grace. I wish we could play.”
THUNK. A chunk of wood broke off the stump.
“I miss Aunt Sofia’s cooking.”
Thud. This one bounced off without any damage.
He looked around to make sure he was alone. “I wish Aunt Lily was around to teach me some more interesting phrases.” She was probably teaching him things that weren’t age-appropriate, but that was part of her appeal.
Swish. That rock missed and disappeared in the grass. He tried to see where it had gone, but it had vanished completely inside of a mushroom patch. It was a species he wasn’t familiar with. The tribe’s mycologist could probably tell him all about the mushroom’s properties and why it grew in a six-foot ring around the stump.
“I wish…” Callisto considered the rock in his hand, then swapped it out for a smooth one that looked like it had come from a river. “I wish I fit in better.”
When he threw this one, he missed the stump and startled an unseen beetle into the air. Callisto looked at the rocks in his hand and thought about his dad. His father seemed perfectly happy as an adult, but that was because he had figured out his place in the world.
Callisto had not. He frowned at the dusty stones in his palm and tossed them into the grass. Missing everyone was only part of the problem. He was a child of two worlds, and one of those worlds had been cut off from him.
It had probably been long enough. If anything would make him feel better, it would be talking to Adhara. Even though his feelings were likely the equivalent of puppy love, he still enjoyed spending time with her and chose to live in the moment.
He walked out of the clearing and trotted along the trail to Adhara’s house. The morning fog had yet to burn off, and had thickened in some places to look almost mystical in nature. Despite his intense familiarity with the terrain, it felt like he was traveling through an unknown realm. If not for some common landmarks, he would believe himself to be lost.
When he arrived at Adhara’s home, he saw wisps of smoke coming out of the central chimney of her home. Callisto was originally going to circle the domicile to see if she was playing outside, but her father was working at his bench right outside the entrance.
Mintaka looked up from his work and snorted, his eyes narrowing at Callisto.
The young centaur hesitated, and turned as if to leave.
Then he remembered his last conversation with his father. If Callisto could handle a Fae Prince trying to steal him away, he could do this. Taking a deep breath, Callisto walked up to where Mintaka was working and met his gaze.
“I have come to inquire about Adhara,” he said. “But I would like to speak with you first.”
“We have nothing to talk about,” Mintaka muttered.
“On the contrary, we have plenty to discuss,” Callisto countered. “During our last interaction, I’m afraid that I gave you the wrong idea with my words. You see, I like your daughter, and—”
Mintaka grunted, making a point to snap the arrow he had been working on in half.
Callisto continued. “I would prefer to continue associating with her. But I need you to understand that my feelings for her are strictly platonic. I am still far too young for romantic inclinations, despite often intense feelings of attraction.”
“Attraction?” Mintaka already did not seem impressed with Callisto’s attempts at mediation.
Callisto shook his head. “It is natural for young centaurs on the cusp of adulthood to begin experiencing feelings that will parallel future sexual attraction in others…you can put that knife down, I know you won’t stab me.”
“You’re really bad at this,” Mintaka growled, taking the knife from his belt and jamming it into the table.
His heart hammering in his chest, Callisto continued. “My father told me that I shouldn’t participate in any relationship that I am unable to communicate about with others. Right now, I am not ready to officially court someone, or even unofficially do so. I take my potential future role as leader of this tribe very seriously and, should my intentions with Adhara ever evolve past the stage of what is likely just my first crush, I would speak with both you and her directly regarding them.”
“You talk too much,” Mintaka added.
“Noted.”
The fletcher considered Callisto for a moment, then let out a long, low sigh. “Are you always in your head like this?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” Mintaka snorted in mirth. “I would prefer someone who overthinks their choices to pursue my daughter to someone who doesn’t consider the consequences.”
“Then you approve?”
“No!” Mintaka slammed his fist down on the table. At first, Callisto thought the man was mad, but he was smiling. “But I’m her father. It’s my job to chase her suitors away. Especially ones that stumble over their words so readily.”
“What?” Callisto blinked in surprise. “Why would you do such a thing? If your purpose is to make anyone who may wish to court your daughter uncomfortable, then I don’t see—”
“If they think my daughter is worth pursuing, they’ll continue to do so, whether I chase them off or not.” Mintaka chuckled. “You may have forgotten, but most of us only live out here in the wilds. A stallion who can’t even stand up to me would be a poor potential mate, would they not?”
Callisto opened and shut his mouth, uncertain how to respond. Finally, it clicked. “So this is a test?”
“Yes.”
“And you like me now?”
“No.” Mintaka picked up his knife and pointed it at Callisto. “But I do respect you for this. That’s worth far more in my eyes.” The centaur considered him for a moment, then nodded to himself. “And you should be aware that you will likely experience similar or worse from other parents in the tribe.”
“Why?”
“Your mother is the chieftain and your father is a magical human known for his sexual exploits. For now, you are too young to be a problem, but concerns have been secretly voiced amongst others. You are in a position of power, Callisto Radley. Some of us are afraid of how you will wield it when you are older.”
“But that’s absurd,” Callisto sputtered.
“For now, it is. But remember how most of us came to be here. Our previous tribe kicked us out for being impure, remember? For disagreeing with our betters. We all know what it’s like to have someone in a position of power that abuses it.”
“I…” Callisto’s argument died. “That…uh…”
Sensing the sudden shift in mood, Malinka almost looked sad. “You’re a good foal,” he said. “Don’t ever give us reason to doubt that you’ll be a great centaur.”
“I won’t,” Callisto swore, though the oath felt hollow. The realization that others did not trust him stung deeper than he had imagined.
“Adhara went down to the pond to meet up with some friends.” Malinka spoke softly, as if afraid Callisto would spook. “You’re welcome around here, but there might come a time when I need to chase you off again. Allow me that.”
“Yes…sir.” Callisto saluted for reasons he didn’t even know, then turned in the direction of the pond. “Thanks for the…uh…talk.”
Malinka grunted. “Don’t hurt my daughter,” he replied.
“I won’t.” That was far easier to swear, and Callisto galloped away, his eyes stinging for some unknown reason.
It took him over half an hour to get down to the pond. He galloped for most of it, but grew tired. His breakfast wasn’t sitting well in his stomach, and he debated perhaps lying down for a bit. Maybe a book would help take his mind off of things.
However, then he would have to go looking for Adhara again. Now that he had smoothed things over with her father, maybe she’d be more willing to be seen with him.
He slowed his trot as he neared the pond. It was surrounded by low lying branches that he was forced to duck beneath. Up ahead, he heard somebody muttering, but couldn’t quite hear the words. Curious, he slowed his approach and opted for stealth.
There were five centaur youth around the pond, including Adhara, but none of them were moving. In the middle of the pond stood a humanoid figure with dark blue skin and eyes the color of ink. She was whispering something to the youth, then paused when she spotted Callisto.
“Ah, there you are.” When the woman grinned, it was to reveal teeth like knives. “Hello, Callisto Radley.”
The centaur started to back away, but the woman wagged her finger back and forth.
“I wouldn’t,” she said with a grin. “I can’t promise any of these children will still be here when you return.”
“What are you doing here?” he asked. “And how are you here?”
The woman snorted. “The Fae realm overlaps all places. It was only a matter of time before one of us found a way in.” She squatted down on the water and stroked the surface. “As for what I’m doing here, I am looking for my brother.”
Callisto just shook his head. “I have no idea who your brother—”
The woman looked up, and in that moment of eye contact, Callisto’s mind was filled with an image of a terrifying Fae prince. That one second flash was immediately followed by the image of him being folded into himself before being tucked away in a can by his sister.
“Now you know who he is,” she said with a grin. “And I saw the recognition in your eyes. He went missing not far from your home, along with some other Fae from our family. I would be willing to trade for any information you possess on him.”
Callisto swallowed. “Trade?” he asked.
The woman gestured at the frozen centaurs. “Callisto Radley and his family are considered off-limits. Don’t you find that odd? What is so special about your family that the Queen herself would give you all preferential treatment. These children, however, are not of the Radleys. I spent all morning showing them magic tricks, listening to them as they said they would do anything if I would just make the frogs dance for me one more time.”
“What does that have to do with our trade?” Callisto asked, his heart pounding and his chest suddenly tight.
“Well, you see, I would be within my rights to simply abscond with them. To have them follow me into the water, to come to my home and serve us for the rest of their lives. Anything is a very big word, and the innocence of youth does not excuse them from promising it.” The woman grinned.
“What name may I call you?” Callisto asked.
“Why should I give it?” she responded.
“Any trade or bargain made in good faith requires basic etiquette and courtesy,” said Callisto. “Even the simple exchange of names prior to negotiations will create a foundation of trust. Note that I didn’t ask for your true name, or anything else that would give me power over you. However, I hope you give it to me so that someone in my family can hunt you down later and maybe break your legs.” He clapped his hands over his mouth, stunned that he had spoken so freely.
The Fae laughed. “Tell me what you really think, son of Radley. You may stand in the land of the centaurs, but these mists you have seen this morn belong to the Fae. They would ensure any communication between us is wholly honest.”
“If that’s the case, then I hope Aunt Yuki tracks you down and rams an iron rod straight up your ass before freezing you in a block of ice.” Callisto balled up his fists, his anger barely contained. Was it a spell that compelled him? “Your magic is a violation of—”
“It isn’t. Making you overtly honest does not count as harm as long as I do not act in a harmful way in response to your words.” The Fae woman stood and walked across the water until her feet reached the beach. She had webbed toes with bright orange nail polish. “You may know me as Mara.”
Mara reached out and touched the head of the centaur closest to the water. It was a young centaur named Thyone. “You can go,” she whispered, and the child walked toward the water.
“What are you doing?” Callisto asked. “I thought we were trading!”
“We are,” Mara replied. “But I bore easily and am retracting my original offer.” Thyone wordlessly stepped into the water and vanished beneath its surface. The pond itself was only three feet deep in the middle, yet the centaur vanished completely. “It looks like we only have three children to bargain with now.”
“No, stop! Bring him back!”
“Bring who back?” Mara asked, and Callisto was suddenly chilled to realize that he honestly didn’t know. There was a vague memory, almost like a dream, of a young centaur that he had known and occasionally played with. Mara had taken the child and erased his very existence.
“Oh, poor boy,” she muttered, then moved toward him. Callisto took a step back, but now she stood behind him, her hands hovering just above his flank. “You’re pretty upset over someone you can no longer remember.”
“They…were a part of the tribe,” he managed to say, his voice cracking. “His parents—”
“Won’t even miss him,” she said. “They’ll go about their day to day activities feeling like something is missing. Days will become weeks will become months, and it’ll always feel like a memory right on the tip of their tongue.”
“What do you want?” asked Callisto.
“I want to know what happened to my brother,” she replied. “I also wish to know your part in it. You see, I followed him to where he disappeared, and I smelled the scent of both Radley children in the breeze. When I asked the trees to tell me what happened, they were too terrified to remember.”
The spell from the Grimoire! Callisto blinked rapidly, trying to figure out what he should even tell her. Once the Fae knew that Grace was involved, they would demand that she be turned over immediately.
Mara stared at him with midnight eyes and a grin on her face. She absolutely understood the moral quandary she had presented him with. “You know,” she said, circling him at a distance. “I would be willing to toss in something extra for your trouble.”
“Extra?” Callisto asked.
“I could find your Aunt Lily and return her,” Mara replied. “Or cook such meals for you that you would never miss this Sofia again. I could even bring your dad home, though that would be more difficult. Or perhaps we could do…something even better.”
The Fae Princess stood before him and trailed her fingers along his jaw. He felt an odd sensation move through his body and looked down in horror to see that he was now naked and completely human in the glen.
“That’s right, little Callisto. I could make you entirely human,” she replied. “A child of just one world. Removing your humanity would harm you, but the centaur itself? You could fully join your father’s world, assuming—”
“Assuming?”
Mara giggled. “Assuming that you did no harm to my brother.”
Callisto opened his mouth, ready to make the trade. If he told Mara that he was the one who had cast the spell, then he would spare Grace and save the remaining two centaurs…
Wait, two? His eyes widened as he realized that someone else had gone missing. Now it was just Adhara and her closest friend, Belinda.
“That was the price for even considering a falsehood.” Mara grinned and reached out a hand to caress Adhara’s hair. “Did you not swear an oath just this very morning not to bring harm to this one?”
“You were following me?” Callisto whispered.
“Do you really think I’m alone?” Mara’s lips quirked into a grin as the leaves behind Callisto rustled. He turned to see Nima doing a slow march into the glade, his eyes focused on eternity. “Well, well, well. It looks like somebody stepped into a fairy ring.”
Callisto bit his lip so hard that it bled. “Trade conditions,” he demanded. “I need specifics. We’ve wasted enough time talking about…other stuff.”
“Are you sure? I bet I could lure others here. It would only be a matter of time before the adults come looking. Just how many of your tribe could I swallow up in one day?” Mara held out her palm and Nima came to a stop. “As specified, I want you to tell me everything you know about what happened to my brother, the individual whose likeness I psychically provided. In exchange, I will allow these two centaurs to be free of their promised debts.”
“Two?” Callisto realized he only saw Adhara and Nima now. “I require a modification of the deal!”
“Within limits.”
“In addition to releasing these two centaurs, you will return all the individuals you have taken plus relinquish any hold on additional centaurs that I may be unaware of. You will also leave this realm and never return. In exchange, I will provide you with…with…” Callisto took a deep breath. What would his dad do? He would want to protect the family. However, right now, Grace was already being protected. These other children and the people of his tribe had no protection from a foe like this. Tears streamed down his face and he grit his teeth together. “My available knowledge regarding the individual you described.”
“No,” said Mara, then reached out to wipe a tear from Callisto’s face. She held it to her mouth and tasted it. “Those we have already taken now belong to us.”
“We?” Callisto’s lip quivered.
Mara grinned. “I will remind you that I didn’t come alone. Your tribe will feel…smaller when you return. How small that is will depend entirely on you. If I have to take every person in this realm, leaving only you and your mother behind, then I will do so.”
“How is this not harm?” he whispered.
“Because you won’t remember anyone,” said Mara. “Counter offer. Upon the acceptance of this deal, any who have not yet fully crossed over shall be released. The Fae will leave this realm and grant the members of your tribe enmity for a hundred years or four generations, whichever comes first, with the sole exception being all who were involved with my brother’s disappearance. Adhara will have her freedom.”
“Just…Adhara?” he asked, then realized that it was just him and Adhara. The water in the pond rippled as if somebody had stepped into it.
“Who else?” Mara giggled.
“Deal,” he said, and he heard thunder rumble in the distance. He looked over his shoulder to see a massive thunderhead building on the horizon.
“Oh, it looks like your guardian is quite upset with our presence,” Mara muttered. “Too bad that bird was flying so far away this morning.” Her hand shot out and clutched Callisto by the temples and he let out a scream. “Remember,” she commanded.
And he did. When the memory finished playing out like a movie, it simply vanished, leaving just Callisto and Adhara by the water’s edge. Callisto looked down at the mud and the soil and only now realized just how many hoofprints he saw.
“Callisto?” Adhara blinked at him, then looked around. “How did I get here?”
The centaur grabbed her by the hand and frantically pulled in an attempt to get away from the water. Once they were out past the trees, he broke into a sprint, one that Adhara struggled to keep up with.
“MOM!” he screamed, racing back to the village. He had kept his word to MIntaka and protected his daughter from harm. Now it was time to get word to his family and protect his little sister.
He just hoped they wouldn’t hate him for what he had done.