Read The Immortal Queen Tsubame: Ascension Online
Authors: H.D. Strozier
“No,” MaLeila said. “Not a problem at all.”
MaLeila wasn’t sure who closed the distance. Only that one moment she was keenly aware of his proximity and the next their lips were moving against each other’s. It was a slow kiss, a sensual kiss, nothing particularly explosive, yet MaLeila’s heart still raced in excitement. Not just sexual excitement, but in excitement at the forbiddenness of it all, the sense of wrongness, the sense that they might get caught, could likely get caught, but probably wouldn’t. MaLeila pulled away from him first, a saucy smile on her face as she sensed the desire for her had increased now that he had gotten a taste.
“Come on,” MaLeila said. “Let’s practice your magic.”
Dominik groaned, head falling back in annoyance as he said, “You make it look so easy.”
That’s because it was easy for MaLeila. She just hadn’t realized how uncommon it was for sorcerers, let alone a teenage one who one discovered magic when she was twelve, to be able to manipulate distance and space at all, let alone rearrange it in the manner necessary to create a magical loop or a portal. It was certainly cliché, but she hadn’t known how powerful she was until she had something to compare it to. People said it, and no one but her had been able to wield the strength of her staff without risking it draining their life force. But to Devdan and Bastet she was just the teenager they watched over in lieu of a dead mother. To Irvin, she had been the girl unworthy of the legacy Claude left behind and then later his friend. To the Magic Council and powerful influential magic family leaders, she had been someone to be conquered and controlled. But without even trying, by only being herself in the only way she knew to be, she had captivated Dominik because of the power she hadn’t realized she had.
“If I didn’t know any better,” Dominik added leaning towards her and pecking her on the lips, “I’d say you were showing off.”
“I’m not,” MaLeila insisted allowing him to keep his proximity but keeping him from getting another kiss from her. “Stop. We don’t have time for this.”
And just like that, Dominik went from playful and flirty to serious and solemn as he said, “You’re right. We don’t.”
MaLeila raised her eyebrows. She hadn’t expected him to agree so quickly. She thought she’d have to allow him a few more kisses before he backed down, thus it didn’t take her long to deduce that he wasn’t talking about kissing.
He continued, “Look how long it’s taken me to even see the magical seams that keep distance and space together. It’ll be months before I can grasp at them or even undo and redo them.”
MaLeila paused, eyes narrowed. “So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that instead of me learning to summon and control the undead army, I’ll teach you how Marie does it.”
“I still don’t see why you’re so insistent on trying to get Mekonnen on our side. He’s proven that he’s not interested,” Anya said to Devdan a little over a week after they had arrived after having not seen Mekonnen since they first arrived. “We shouldn’t waste our time here any longer.”
“For a diplomat who is used to making negotiations with people that could take weeks, even months, you’re sure in a rush to leave here,” Devdan pointed out to the woman when she called him to her room to talk.
“It’s one thing when the other side is actually making the effort to talk to you. But Mekonnen’s completely ignoring us. He obviously has no intention of assisting us.”
Devdan understood the woman’s frustrations, though he’d never admit it to her. Mekonnen had been suspiciously absent taking care of whatever business he had with another magic family. Since all Ethiopian sorcerers were part of the same magic family, Devdan figured the man must have left the country making him wonder why the man had allowed them to come at all if he knew he wasn’t going to be there to discuss the terms of working with the Magic Council and give Devdan the chance to earn his trust like he agreed the first and only time they had spoken.
“We’ll give him a few more days,” Devdan said dismissively.
“Are you giving him a few more days or do you want to spend more time with Adina,” Anya asked.
Devdan knew this was an attempt on Anya’s part to see him falter, yet he couldn’t help but wonder if he had been that indiscreet about his inexplicable attraction to the young sorceress—an attraction that only worsened the more he spent time with her. Rather than dwell on it and give Anya that satisfaction that Adina was part of the reason he insisted on staying he locked eyes with her, unwilling to back down.
The woman continued, “We could try the Moroccan Clan. Or the South African Clan.”
Both families of whom would kiss the ass of Magic Council to be in their good graces. There was a reason that Bastet told him to go to Ethiopia. Not only was it because of the family’s persevering magic history, but also because they were the most stable and respected magic family amongst the African Clans, most of whom were embroiled in tribal war, almost extinct, or lying in bed with Magic Council already.
“We’re trying to get all the African Clans on our side and Mekonnen is the most respected of them all. If we can get him on our side, the rest will follow.”
“Well haven’t you done your research,” Anya said.
“Shocked?” Devdan asked. He decided not to let Anya inevitably insult him in response and continued, “I may be better at using magic and my fists to get my point across but I’m no fucking idiot.”
“If you’re no fucking idiot, then you also know that Mekonnen’s not the only person all the magic families in Africa respect enough to listen to.”
Devdan knew perfectly well that Anya was talking about the proud Algerian Clan in West Africa but he still took a moment to respond because he couldn’t quite get over the arrogance of the Magic Council, how they simply expected bygones to be bygones after all the atrocities they’d committed and allowed to happen in their bid for power. Did it ever even cross the woman’s mind that after suffering over a century of illegal French occupation that the Magic Council turned a blind eye to and the bloody war for the country’s independence that the Algerian Clan wouldn’t even be willing to talk to them on behalf of the Magic Council, let alone be willing to convince others to help?
Finally Devdan said, “The only reason you’re here is that the Magic Council doesn’t trust me. But even still this is my mission and I’m calling the shots. I’m staying here. But go ahead. Try to talk to the Algerian Clan yourself and then when you fail explain to the Magic Council why you left me here unsupervised and risk that seat of yours.”
That said, Devdan left the room. It had been risky to challenge because Anya was nothing if not proud, but the Dominican Republican woman and her blind devotion was infuriating.
“Devdan, are you alright?”
Devdan bit back a curse upon seeing Adina, her black eyes locking with his and not for the first time did he feel the strange compulsion to kiss her. More than kiss her. To take her as his own. And it was making Devdan feel like he was a teenager who could hardly control his hormones again.
“Yeah. Fine,” he replied.
“I hope you aren’t trying to make any plans with Devdan, Adina,” Ezra said coming from the kitchen. “Devdan promised we would spar and I feel he has put it off long enough.”
“So you can embarrass him,” Adina said with a scowl.
“No. It’s fine,” Devdan cut in.
He needed something to take out his aggression and pent up energy on. In the past when he got restless like this, he usually found a reason to mess with MaLeila, mostly because she was the reason he was so restless to begin with. He’d get her worked up into an argument until his heart raced with anger and his blood filled with heat as he got off on the way he could make her react to him until neither he nor her could remember how they had gotten so angry at each other in the first place. Sometimes that didn’t work and he’d leave to find a girl to fuck or he’d go visit the fighting gym he had started and passed along to one of the guys who would also come there and assist with demonstrations to knock a few arrogant students down a few pegs. Since fucking Adina definitely wasn’t an option no matter how much they liked each other, Devdan would do with the sparring.
“Besides,” Devdan said, flashing Adina a smile that caused her to suddenly avert her gaze from him, “Who says he’s going to embarrass me?”
“We will see,” Ezra promised.
They did after dinner, in a room attached to the house filled with mats and an assortment of traditional fighting weapons that Devdan had never seen. Adina sat off to the side, a keen expression on her face as she said, “I’d prefer if you didn’t kill each other.”
“A fight isn’t over until the one who threatens your life is dead or permanently down for the count,” Devdan said.
“There’s a difference between the two?” Adina asked.
“Sometimes,” Ezra said before proceeding to determine the rules.
Hand to hand combat. Anything goes. Loss was determined by the first person to surrender.
Just as Devdan hoped the exercise might, the sparring matches helped take the edge off his restlessness. It turned out that Devdan was the better fighter, something that was proven not just from one sparring match, but multiple matches well into the late evening until finally Ezra gave up trying to defeat him and that was only when Adina insisted that it was getting late and that if they sparred anymore, they would kill themselves.
“I have to ask, what is your secret?” Ezra asked wiping the sweat off him with a towel.
Having something to fight for, Devdan thought to himself instantly. Ezra may have trained more often than Devdan had a chance to and was more stylistically trained, but that was only a small part of winning the fight. Most of winning a fight, of making the body do things that it normally wouldn’t be able to do and exceed physical limitations was sheer will; telling yourself, convincing yourself that you were going to make your body do the impossible. In a way, it was its own magic, which was why even when Devdan wasn’t trying to use his magic in a fight, he naturally tapped into it anyway. But doing the impossible was much easier when who you were protecting was in danger and their life depended on it.
“There is no secret,” Devdan said. “Just do or don’t. Kill or be killed.”
“Most people would take issue with that philosophy.”
“Most people are idiots. Besides, who’s the one who just won all of our sparring matches,” Devdan said bluntly.
Not too keen on getting into detail about the matter, Devdan headed back to his room before Ezra could ask him anything else. When he got there, he fell into bed without showering, getting what must have been the easiest sleep he’d had in a while. And unlike the last few mornings, the call of the adhan from the nearby mosques didn’t awaken him. He didn’t bother checking the time when he finally did decide to get out of bed, only glanced out the window to know that it was well past sunrise and went to take a shower.
It only after he took a shower, after the heat of the water had loosened up muscles tight with soreness that tightened back up again once he was out the shower, did Devdan realize how stiff his body was and that he had injuries that he’d been too numb from exhaustion the previous night to notice. In particular there was a tender spot on the back of his shoulder that was interfering with the range of motion of his right arm. There was a knock on his door and he gritted through his teeth for whoever it was to come in as he tried to work out the soreness. He could resort to using magic to assist with the injury instead, but he’d already overdone it with Ezra yesterday. Devdan didn’t think he’d wake up for the next day with all the energy using magic to heal took.
“Are you alright?”
Adina’s voice distracted him so that he moved his arm too far back, sending a sharp shooting pain from the back of his shoulder down to his elbow.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
“You’re injured,” Adina said and then left the room.
She came back with incense and oil. First she lit the incense. Then she sat the oil on the nightstand next to his bed and beckoned him to have a seat in front of her.
Devdan hesitated. Adina noticed.
“What? You’re injured aren’t you?”
“Yes. But I’ve suffered worse. I can deal with a little soreness,” Devdan said carefully.
“You probably can. Doesn’t mean you have to. Come here.”
As always when Adina was involved, he felt compelled to do as she said, so he sat in front of her, back to her. She lifted his shirt off and then tucked his hair out the way, the brushing of her fingers against his skin sending jolts through his body. He couldn’t fully allow himself to enjoy the sensation though, not when he was fully aware of how improper this was. Back home, even in Europe, it wasn’t wrong to have such intimacy with the opposite sex, even encouraged. Even as prudish as the European families were about who married who, they didn’t care about who had sex with who and when so long as the wrong people didn’t make the marriage tie. Adina’s family was different. Everyone was in everyone’s business and if you were interested in a girl you talked to her father or her brother, not the girl; let alone got into intimate situations with said girl. But her father wasn’t here and her brother was probably in his room trying to recover from their sparring match just like Devdan was.
Adina’s warm oily hands on his sore right shoulder snapped Devdan out his thoughts. She rubbed the oil onto his shoulder first before massaging it into his skin, working out the soreness in his shoulder first before moving her hand slightly up his neck. With the soreness on his right side slowly being worked out by Adina’s ministrations, the soreness on his left side seemed to increase and as though she had read his mind, Adina switched sides. She tossed his hair to his other side and Devdan mentally noted that he really needed to cut it or else it would get as long as he used to let it get back when Claude owned him. The long thick wavy locks made him popular with the opposite sex back then, both black and white even though the white girls who admired him never would have admitted it if their lives had depended on it. Nowadays people assumed he had Native American or Indian blood which he supposed was better than people assuming he was a mulatto.
When she finally worked out most of the tension on the left side, she adjusted so that one hand was on either shoulder and continued her massaging, her fingers getting tangled into his hair as she went. Finally he relaxed into her ministrations, figuring as long as all she was doing was helping him as a guest in her home it was harmless no matter how intimate it appeared to be.
“You have so many scars on your back,” Adina said after a few moments.
“Yeah,” Devdan said, the girl’s massaging not allowing him to tense up like he normally would when asked that question, not that anyone asked him that before. MaLeila would have, but he’d never given her the chance to notice as he was always careful not to expose the scars around her though she may have seen the few on the back of his arms. And every time he decided to fuck a girl this side of the seal, they were too lost in the throes of passion to ask him about the scars if they did notice, and he was long gone before they gained enough wits to ask.
He thought her next question would be to ask how he got them as he wasn’t sure how many people on the African continent knew that he was a slave from the 1800’s as they had little interest in the affairs of European sorcerers. She surprised him with what she did ask though.
“Do they hurt still?”
“No,” Devdan lied. He wasn’t sure if it was physical pain or phantom pains that were triggered by external stimuli that subconsciously reminded him of a whip or the plantation, but regardless, they still hurt sometimes.
Adina didn’t ask him anymore questions though he could tell she was still looking at the scars by the way the feeling of her massaging hands getting lighter and slower as though she were distracted. At that point Devdan decided Adina had done enough and was about to tell her she could stop only she stopped on her own. In the next moment he felt the light feather touches of her fingers on his back, particularly on the scars where she had worked out the sores behind his shoulder.