Pure Requiem Read online

  When we return for round two, he unloads all of the cooked meats from the refrigerator.

  “It’s for Mama Bear,” he says in explanation.

  “But that’s a mountain of food,” I note, eyes round. “She’s just one woman.”

  “She’s the Great White Beast. Haven’t you noticed her appetite?”

  Yes, I noticed. She always eats every last crumb whenever we share a meal together, and there’s always a variety of meats, enough to feed half a football team.

  “Where does it all go?” I wonder.

  Benjamin stops to consider this as well.

  “I think she just metabolizes everything she takes in right away,” he hypothesizes.

  “Your vocabulary never ceases to amaze me,” I note.

  “It helps that I spend time with you,” he says with a beaming grin, almost blinding me with its incandescent brightness. “You often use big, multi-syllable words. National Geographic and the History channels help as well. So does reading the Encyclopedia.”

  I regard him in silence for a good long while, a knot of…something…throbbing in my chest. I don’t want to leave him.

  Gods! I don’t want to leave my boy!

  “You amaze me, little man,” I murmur sincerely, my voice a raspy croak of unfathomable emotion.

  “You amaze me too, Uncle Ere,” he returns immediately, without any hesitation. “Uncle Tal is my hero. Daddy is, well, daddy. And he’s a butt-kicking warrior besides. You’re my best friend. Sometimes, I feel like you’re a boy just like me, even though you’re old.”

  I cough a laugh to keep from crying.

  “Do go on, everyone wants to hear about how ancient they are.”

  “Very, very old,” the imp adds with a serious face and mischievous eyes. “But you’re young at heart, I think, even if you’re an old soul—Sophie’s words, not mine. I wish you can stay here with us forever. We’d have so much fun.”

  The way he says it, it’s as if he somehow knows I plan to leave soon. His big blue angelic eyes gaze at me with such searing insight, as if he can see my every thought.

  This boy scares me shitless.

  I clear my throat and make a show of surveying the second wagon-load of food.

  “Think we have enough now? It’s just an afternoon picnic.”

  He nods.

  “You carry that up, while I find the others. Tal, Mama Bear, Liv, Sophia,” he checks each person’s name off with a finger.

  “May I invite Mom and Dad too?”

  I don’t really want to share Benjamin’s attention with Inanna and Gabriel, but what am I supposed to say? That I want to hoard my son all to myself for a couple of hours before I might never see him again? I don’t want to share Ishtar and Tal’s attention with my…sister…either. When I’m not sitting next to the golden Light Bringer, I feel less like a shit-brown cuckoo in comparison.

  “Of course,” I murmur and forcibly curl my lips into a fake smile.

  He looks at me with those penetrating eyes again and cocks his head in consideration.

  “They’re probably out doing reconnaissance, anyway. I’ll invite them next time.”

  Fuck. This boy sees too much. He shakes me to the core.

  Jerkily, I nod, not trusting myself to say anything.

  And then, we go our separate ways, him to round up our “friends,” and me to carry up the second wagon of food and drinks.

  The only way to get to the private rooftop is to go through Tal and Ishtar’s apartment. They left the door unlocked for the purpose of this impromptu picnic, the trusting fools.

  I set the wagon down on the dining table and snoop around their space. I have a few minutes before the rest of the group comes.

  The apartment is permeated with the sweet scent of baked goods, but underneath that comforting aroma is the scent of Tal and Ishtar—something fundamentally male, earthy and clean mixed with spicy, feminine, animal heat.

  I snort up the smells of the apartment like drugs. It’s so comforting, like a warm embrace, like everything I imagined in a home.

  I glance my fingertips along each item on a wall of shelves. Either these carvings are newly made by Tal, or Ishtar brought them from Dark Dreams.

  I think they’re new. They look different somehow. The sculptures of the leopards that Tal loves to make are more playful, more joyful than the somber carvings in Dark Dreams.

  There are kitten versions mid-pounce, curled up in a ball of fur sleeping, making purring faces of delight, as if someone is scratching them behind their ears. There are grown versions sitting regal and proud, but their carved eyes have a mischievous, hungry slant to them. Or they lie on their belly with their tails curled in a taunt, their muzzle tilted in a feline smile.

  With a casual swipe, I filch the smallest leopard kitten and tuck it into my trouser pocket.

  “You can have whatever you want from our shelves, Ere.”

  Ishtar’s low voice makes me jump a foot.

  Loki’s balls, she’s silent!

  Silent as a cat, I was about to say, but then, she is one. A snow leopard, no less. The most silent of all, with their large, padded paws. And snow leopards are the only predatory cats that don’t roar.

  “I was going to put it back before I…at the end of the picnic,” I lie.

  “You can keep it, if you like that one the best,” she says, coming towards me. “Or Tal can make one just for you. Would you like that?”

  I swallow past the lump that suddenly forms in my throat.

  “I like this one best,” I eek out in a gritty voice, clenching my fist around the kitten in my pocket.

  It’s a sleeping one with its thick tail curled around its eyes, its mouth lifted in a contented smile. It reminds me of the first weeks of my stay here at the Shield, when Ishtar came to me as a kitten, when she slept beside me and kept me company.

  I didn’t know myself at the time. I was still the Creature. But Benjamin, Ishtar and Sophia befriended me anyway.

  And Tal. Tal has always protected me.

  “Then please keep it, beautiful boy,” she murmurs, reaching up to smooth a palm over my cheek.

  My breath freezes in my lungs at the simple endearment.

  She doesn’t seem to notice as she continues, “Would you like anything else? Tal is exceptionally clever with his hands. He can carve anything, and he makes them so lifelike you can see their eyes glint, their fur fluff.”

  “I wouldn’t mind a long-haired rabbit,” I choke out. It’s hard to talk when her soothing hand is wrecking havoc on my emotions.

  “Or a cute cuckoo,” I add. Then amend, “Though that’s a bit of an oxymoron. But you said he’s clever. Surely there are fictional cuckoos that can look less ugly than most.”

  “I’ll let him know,” she says, smiling warmly at me.

  As casually as I can, I pull her hand away from my face and distance myself from her, looking anywhere but into her eyes.

  Thankfully, the rest of the party arrives. Benjamin with Tal, Sophia and Liv in tow.

  “Let’s go have a picnic! I can’t wait!” Benjamin booms enthusiastically in his loudest voice.

  Without further ado, we all make our way up the spiral staircase to the rooftop, Tal and Ishtar holding hands, Liv, Sophia and Benjamin chatting happily, and me bringing up the rear, hungrily observing the others.

  This is going to be the best day of my life. I want to memorize every single moment.

  *** *** *** ***

  I scan the high-rises and the Bay that I can see beyond the one open veranda of the rooftop terrace. Everything else is blocked from view by windowless towers, making this pleasure garden extremely private, out of sight.

  But the view of the Bay gives me a sense of where the Shield is located. I know New York City like the back of my hand. Now I know the coordinates of the Pure Ones’ secret base.

  The fools.

  Good thing I don’t plan on using this information against them.

  Yet.

  I stand idly
with my back against the terrace wall, plopping grapes into my mouth from a fat cluster in one hand.

  The conversation flows easily, filled with teasing taunts and plenty of laughter. I’ve never seen Tal and Ishtar so at ease, with everyone around them, and most of all with each other.

  Astoundingly, they can’t stop touching one another. She often has her hand on his thigh or arm, or she’ll lean in to nuzzle his jaw and surreptitiously kiss his throat. He always has his hand on some part of her body as well. Her hair, her back, her waist, or simply holding her hand.

  Their affection is not overtly sexual (thank the gods), but still simmering with passion and heat. I don’t even think they know they’re doing it; it comes so naturally. As if they are each a part of the other, the way the halves of one person fit and coordinate seamlessly together.

  It almost makes me believe in sexual love. The chosen kind between Eternal or Destined Mates. The kind that supposedly makes an individual complete and replete, more so than even the love between parents and offspring.

  Seeing their happiness makes me conversely melancholy.

  I thought Tal and I had something in common, but I was mistaken. Before, I felt less glaring in a dysfunctional family, but now I can no longer pretend that I fit in. Their love, their joy, with each other and with Benjamin, Inanna, and Gabriel…it’s clear as day that I am the proverbial dirty fly in their ointment.

  I look to Liv and Sophia, chatting like long-lost sisters and kick-ass aunties to Benjamin, making him laugh uproariously every few minutes.

  They’re debating the merits of two television series, I comprehend. Game of Thrones versus The Witcher.

  Benjamin joins in the debate despite not being allowed to read or watch either series, given the gratuitous violence, sex and rough language. But of course, he knows about everything from Wikipedia. And the boy has an opinion for every subject.

  Frankly, I don’t know why there’s any debate. At least in terms of the live action, you have a short, broody hero and a short, fake-haired heroine on the one hand, versus a tall, impeccably handsome, muscled hero (the hair and makeup only add to his appeal) and…well, who cares about the heroine when you have a hero like that?

  Sure, GoT had a few things going for it in the beginning. My favorites are the snarky dwarf, the ambivalent Kingslayer and the barbarian brute. But it all went downhill after a few seasons. Hands down, The Witcher wins. Not that I’ve watched either. I, too, know how to Google for information.

  But it’s time to cut this (metaphorical) canoodling short. We’ve work to do.

  “I know where Medusa’s secret lair is,” I lob this tidbit in the middle of the ongoing, casual conversation with the delicacy of hand grenade.

  “I can take you there.”

  All discussion ceases, and all eyes turn to me, awaiting my next words. I try to make them…enticing.

  “She won’t be expecting it. She’s waiting for me to give her the Shield’s location, actually. Which I can easily do, now that I see where we are.”

  I gesture to the view of the Bay behind me, then walk casually toward the group and lean a shoulder against one of the pillars of the quaint pagoda where we’ve arranged the picnic.

  “Of course, you can prevent me from divulging by shoving me off this rooftop to plummet to my death. I can transform into any humanoid form, but I can’t sprout wings. So that will take care of the threat quite efficiently.”

  “Ere…” Sophia begins, her brows gathering together in a frown.

  I cut her off.

  “Let’s talk business, shall we? Enough of the play party. I’m here for a reason. Either to be used by you to betray my Mistress, or to betray you because of my Mistress. It’s time for me to fulfill my role, don’t you think?”

  “Binu…” Ishtar tries, calling me “son” in Akkadian.

  “That’s not my name any more,” I purposely misunderstand. “I’m Erebu now. Ere, if you want to get personal. I’m Darkness incarnate. Don’t mistake me for anyone’s lost son, or brother or friend.”

  I spear her with a quelling look, and she presses her lips together, swallowing the rest of her words.

  I shift my eyes to take in each person in turn, making sure I have their full attention.

  “I have pertinent information that can help you win the war against Medusa. Or at the very least put a sizable dent in her machinations. Do you want to know where her lair is or not?”

  “Who’s Medusa?” Benjamin chimes in, looking bewildered.

  “Perhaps you should run along and let the adults talk, little boy,” I instruct coldly, sparing him a bored, uncaring glance.

  “Playtime is over.”

  “That’s not very nice,” he says softly in a volume I’ve never heard him use before.

  I bare my teeth in a not-nice smile.

  “I never claimed I was nice, little boy,” I say silkily, making my eyes ice over like a glacier. “Go find Mommy and Daddy who cares a whit about your feelings and stay out of the way.”

  Liv stands up and throws a fulminating glare my way.

  “Come on, Benji,” she says, grasping my son’s hand. “I’ll take you out for Ben and Jerry’s. We don’t care about party poopers anyway. Leave him to his shitty mood.”

  No one corrects her cursing as she leads Benjamin away. Probably because everyone wants to hurl a lot worse curses at me than that.

  I know the feeling. I’m cursing myself on the inside too.

  But I have a job to do, dammit! They’ll thank me later.

  Benjamin doesn’t leave without a parting shot, however. He wouldn’t be my son otherwise.

  “Bye, Uncle Ere,” he calls out, twisting his head around to look at me as he’s walking away. “Take care of yourself. We can do more watercolors when you’re back.”

  Ha! Dream on.

  If everything goes according to plan, I won’t be coming back, and they’ll celebrate my departure with cake and balloons. They’ll thank me for it in the end.

  I don’t deign to reply and dismissively turn my back.

  He’ll never know what it cost me to keep up the nonchalant façade while I was breaking inside.

  I take a deep, bracing breath and get back on topic.

  “So. Shall I draw you a map so you can plan the attack?”

  “How do we know you haven’t already revealed our location to Medusa, and she’s planning her attack right this moment?” Sophia says, narrowing her eyes at me.

  “It’s possible,” I allow. “But she risks exposing Immortal Kinds to humans if she attacks the heart of New York City. Medusa has a vast network of control, but she doesn’t own everything. She’s not strong enough yet to keep humans in line if they find out about us. She’s not about to repeat the mistake of the Great War and the Purge of the Aftermath when Dark and Pure Ones underestimated humans as a force to be reckoned with. If she attacks the Shield, she will have to plan it out, which buys you some time to fortify defenses.”

  “And the same is not true for her?” Ishtar counters.

  “Her new lair is in the Adirondack Mountains,” I reveal. “She moved it from the Catskills where you were held, Sophia.”

  At the reminder of my part in her capture and imprisonment, anger simmers in Sophia’s deep brown eyes.

  Good. She needs to be reminded of her hatred of me.

  “It’s where she can practice and hone her powers in monster form.”

  “You’ve seen it?” Ishtar asks.

  “No. But I have two fragments of her soul inside me. I can sense her movements. The extent and magnitude of her newfound powers.”

  “She is very fearsome, then?” Sophia says.

  “Very. As fearsome, if not more so, as the green dragon that rescued you all in Egypt. But Cloud Drako can only take his form once, isn’t that right? Medusa’s form is permanent. She’s been planning for this since the beginning of time. I only put the pieces of the puzzle together recently.”

  To my chagrin, I’m being truthful just no
w.

  “Wouldn’t she expect you to betray her to us? You’ve been with us for several months now.”

  I shrug.

  “Probably. You should be prepared for a trap if you decide to take her in her own court. On the other hand, it’s been years since you started this dangerous tango with the serpent. You never launched offensives, only the once in Boston. And only because I took you, Sophia. I’m starting to see a pattern here.”

  Her eyes darken further at that reminder, when I was responsible for the deaths of three of her Dozen, her friends and family.

  That’s right, young queen. I’m your enemy. Remember this well.

  “Why would we take the risk?” Ishtar challenges. “What would we have to gain?”

  Must I spell everything out?

  I tick off my fingers as I speak. “One, you get first-hand knowledge of your greatest enemy—”

  “And might not live to tell about it,” Sophia grunts.

  I ignore her.

  “Two, if you’re lucky, you’ll take her by surprise. If Medusa has one fault it’s that she thinks too highly of herself. She thinks she has you and the Dark Ones by the balls. She’s just taunting you now, playing games. And she’s extremely patient with her prey. But she’s over-confident. A predator will never think that the prey might strike back. She doesn’t think you have it in you. Ramses’ court, maybe,” I allow, speaking of the first-ever Dark King of the New England vampire hive.

  “But not you goody-two-shoes Pure Ones,” I finish with a derisive curl of my lips.

  “I mean, come on. You had many chances to end her.”

  I look at Ishtar.

  “When you first became the Great White Beast and Challenged you sister for the right to Claim Tal.”

  Ishtar glances at her Mate at that. Tal has stayed silent all this time, simply looking at me with his strange blind eyes.

  “And when you fought her again after she captured you both a couple years back. I saw it happen. I watched it all. You’re way too merciful for your own good, Princess. You should have killed the snake when you had the chance.”

  I don’t divulge that I could have done the same after they left Medusa to wallow in her wounds.