Vampire Thirst (17 page)

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Authors: Ella J Phoenix

BOOK: Vampire Thirst
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She let out a long sigh and focused on the energy the three vampires were emanating. “I want you to visualize your powers streaming through your hands onto the circle,” she murmured. “Like a river, flowing from hand to hand, circling, powerful, never-ending.”

Zoricah felt the air crackle around her as a burst of energy oozed out of Tardieh onto Dyam, through to Joel, then back to Tardieh once again. She felt it in her skin, her veins, her core. It was time. “
Apa Sâmbetei,
euvinla tine.”
Apa Sâmbetei,
I come to thee.
 

She was first engulfed by an agonizing feeling of drowning - she hated that part - then beams of light flooded her mind as she was thrown into a washing machine of colors. They were as palpable as the currents in the ocean after a storm. They churned her, tossed her sideways and took her away - out of the dungeon and into the darkness. Travelling between realms was a gift she had inherited from her celestial father, Ucidhere, God of Death, lord of Apa Sâmbetei. As a Calathor, she could enter the spiritual planes without being trapped or harmed, but that didn’t mean the trip didn’t suck her dry.  

After the turbulence stopped, Zoricah opened her eyes and looked around. As always, the mist in Apa Sâmbetei was thick, almost impenetrable. But the sound of water – which had often guided her – didn’t reach her ears. She took a few steps forward. The floor felt soft, as if cushioned, completely different from the rocky soil of the Land of the Souls. Where was she?

“You are in my plane,” a beautiful female voice reverberated inside her head.

Startled, Zoricah turned around. The mist lifted slightly and Zmyzel, the Goddess of Life, mother of all living creatures, appeared in front of her. She was seated, but Zoricah could not see a chair. The goddess was stroking the hair of a boy who rested his head on her lap. His tiny body floated above the ground, lying on an invisible bed.

“How did I get here?”

“That is a waste of a question, my dear,” Zmyzel responded.

Zoricah blinked. It’d been a while since she had been reprimanded by a teacher. “Why am I here?” she tried again.

Zmyzel raised her gaze and Zoricah met eyes as golden as hers. The goddess’ long hair, as dark as midnight, flowed down her chest. She was beautiful with high cheekbones and thick lips.

“Don’t you want to find where the others are?”

What others?

Suddenly, the haze that lingered around Zoricah was lifted and she saw several people floating, as if resting on thin air. Their eyes were open, but they didn’t see anything.

“These inmãs are numb, catatonic,” she exclaimed, horrified. Zoricah had never seen anything like that before. “How can it be?”

After death, every inmã had to cross the Three Rivers to cleanse themselves. It wasn’t an easy feat because the more troubled one’s soul was, the longer it got trapped in the rivers. Once pure again, the inmã found True Peace and was able to cross the last River and enter Apa Sâmbetei. A place Zoricah’s father, Ucidhere, insisted on calling
his garden
.

“They are beyond lost,” Zmyzel replied. “What was done to these souls in life is keeping them from reaching True Peace.”

Oh, dear Gods. That was the worst of all destinies. It was what the humans called Hell. Zoricah’s chest felt tight. She covered her mouth with her hand, stopping the sob from leaving her lips. “How’s that even possible?”

“That’s why you are here, is it not?”

She nodded.

“So, you must understand the true meaning of life.”

Huh?

“You’ve spent your entire life fighting, warring.”

“Yes, fighting to protect and help those who couldn’t do it themselves,” Zoricah replied. Her voice came out a little louder than she intended.

“Your destiny is much bigger than that,” Zmyzel replied softly. “And you know it.”

“What can be bigger than helping make the world a safer place?”

“To
make
the world.”

What?

Zmyzel’s fingers brushed the blond tresses of the boy on her lap. He didn’t stir or even blink.

Zoricah was completely lost. To
make
the world? What was the goddess talking about? Zoricah was just a minor demigoddess, fruit of an “oops” between a draconian girl and the God of Apa Sâmbetei. She had some powers, but they were not even close to those needed to create life.

Zmyzel paused, then lifted her eyes to Zoricah. The serenity that surrounded the entire realm was suddenly overtaken by dark clouds. A cold wind blew through, making Zoricah stumble. The catatonic inmãs were blown away, like dead leaves in autumn. Zoricah lifted her hands to cover her eyes, but she was startled by the sight in front of her. The goddess had morphed into a gigantic phoenix. Its long wings of colorful plumage flapped in the air, making the wind blow even stronger. With a red crest, long beak, and a gold and scarlet tail, the immense bird was stunning. And absolutely terrifying.  Its large eyes shimmered like fire.

“Take heed of your shaded mind, daughter of Ucidhere,” the phoenix screeched. “More inmãs will be lost, including yours and that of your precious vampire.”

Tardieh. “No!”

“You must open your mind in order to free those inmãs.”

The bird opened its mouth and a gush of fire bellowed out, engulfing Zoricah. She crouched low and covered her head with both arms. She wasn’t scared of getting burnt – dragons could not be harmed by the very element that gave them strength – but Zmyzel’s power was beyond comprehension. The Goddess was the creator of all life on Earth, and she could also take it away in a snap of her fingers.

Suddenly, images of several bodiless faces emerged from the flames. They were crying, suffering, pleading. Her stomach churned in response. They weren’t just the victims in Spain; they were the faces of every single soul who had suffered under Yerik’s hands. There were so many, so many more than she had imagined. Zoricah closed her eyes and tried to block them out. She couldn’t take it any longer. She needed air; she needed sunlight.

From the depths of all the screaming and crying, a beautiful song emerged. It grew stronger, silencing the others who were still trapped amongst the flames. She opened her eyes and realized the soothing sound was coming from the phoenix. Then a name was whispered in her mind – Angel – and a teenage girl with bright blue eyes and wavy blond hair came into view. She, too, carried the strange black marks the other corpses shared but, unlike them, she wasn’t crying. The girl just gazed at Zoricah. Her beautiful eyes looked much too old for her age. Zoricah frowned. Who was that girl? She took a few steps closer, but just before she reached the teenager, the flames vanished and Zoricah felt herself being pulled back to the plane of the living.
No! It’s too early!
She needed to stay and find someone who could help her locate those trapped souls. She fought against the force pulling her away, but it was like a fly battling against a tornado. Soon she felt herself cross the vacuum between planes and return to the house in Malaga.  

Zoricah came out of her trance with a start. She took a much needed gulp of air. A second later she felt the circle of energy being broken, then Tardieh’s cold hands covered hers. She opened her eyes. He was right in front of her, a deep frown framing his brow.

“Zoricah?”

She blinked a few times. The world swirled around her. A cold hand cupped her cheek. It felt so good, so refreshing. She leaned on it like a junkie latches on to a hit.

“Zoricah, the sun is rising,” he whispered. “We must go.”

She nodded, then planted both hands on the ground and lifted herself up. But apparently her brain had other plans for her nervous system, because the command never reached her legs.
Oh, crap.
Her knees gave out and she saw the floor come closer and closer at an incredible speed. The crash never came. Strong arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her up.

“I think you’ll need a ride,” Tardieh murmured as he held her tight.

Her head was still too heavy and refused to stay up, so she rested her forehead on his amazingly taut chest. “I’m fine now.”

“Of course you are.”

“Seriously, I can fly out.”

“Of course you can,” Tardieh replied, not giving any hint of letting her go.

Zoricah looked up. His emerald eyes were locked on hers. Worry and determination were mixed with something else Zoricah had longed to see again – passion. Her heartbeat quickened, her palms got sweaty. It had been so long since he’d looked at her that way.

“I’m taking you home,” he said, his mouth just inches from hers. “And don’t you dare argue with me.”

“Where are the others?”

“Teleported to my villa already.” His arms tightened around her, pulling her even closer. His body felt like a barricade of pure muscle against hers. She tipped her head back. His lips were moist, inviting.

“Ready?” he whispered.

“Yes.”

Chapter 4

Zoricah felt Tardieh’s cold breath against her skin, his arms around her waist, his incredible male verve oozing out and flooding her inmã. Down, down, down she went until the freefall was over.

“We’re here.”

Too soon.
She opened her eyes and found herself in the middle of a plantation. The air was filled with the sweet smell of ripe fruits. Just a few feet ahead stood a large, two-story home with wrap-around verandas, salmon walls and intricate cast-iron balustrades.

“Welcome to my home.” Tardieh’s baritone voice reverberated down her neck all the way to her core.

“It’s charming,” she croaked out.

He pulled back and let her go. Something screamed inside Zoricah and she almost jumped up and clutched herself to him again. But she didn’t. Thank the Soartas, her self control hadn’t deserted her yet.

“Tell me what happened in Apa Sâmbetei,” he said and motioned for her to take the lead toward the house.

“Technically I wasn’t in Apa Sâmbetei
.

“What do you mean?”

“I was still in the spiritual plane, but Zmyzel took me.”

He paused mid-stride and lifted both brows in shock.

“Yeah, it was a lot of fun,” Zoricah added.

“What did she want with you?”

“I still don’t know. But I saw…” The memories of all those faces, screaming, crying, begging for help, came flooding back.

“You saw?” Tardieh prompted softly.

“All of them. All the victims Yerik tormented with his experiments – the pregnant females we found in New York, the contorted males and children we found earlier tonight, and many, many more.” Her voice was so thin, she could barely hear herself. “They are trapped in a horrible plane where there’s no end for their suffering. Tardieh, we must find Yerik’s last lab before those souls are lost beyond salvation.”

He brushed her brow with his thumb. “We will, I promise.”

And just like that, all of her worries disappeared. There was only Tardieh, his deep green eyes and his unbelievable strength. There was only them, alone, in a beautiful garden.

“Master Tardieh!”

A stumpy old lady stood at the front porch – hands on hips, large eyes, all attitude. Her dark hair was tied back in a low bun. Its stiffness matched perfectly with her long skirt and frilly blouse. Her wrinkled skin was evidence that she’d been around for quite some time.

“The sun is almost up,” she shouted, as if they were miles away, not just mere feet. “Do you want to find yourself a suntan?”

“We’re coming, Dolores,” Tardieh replied with a resigned voice. “We’re coming.”

By Apa Dobrý, who
was
that woman who could get away with telling the king off?

Zoricah followed Tardieh inside as the first rays of morning sprouted on the horizon. The vast sitting room was adorned by colorful tapestries and rugs. A white marble fireplace on the left wall was surrounded by a full set of sofas and chaise lounges, along with many, many rugs. Zoricah’s eyes were drawn to the massive Gone with the Wind staircase in the middle of the room. The minimalist décor of Tardieh’s mansion in New York was nowhere to be found in this place. Here everything was loud, colorful, full of energy – almost too much, but not quite.

“And you are?”

The out of place, plainly rude question called Zoricah’s attention back to the present. She just glared at the short, plump vampire in front of her.

Joel came out of the kitchen, sipping on a glass of what looked like a blood-sangria. “This is the draconian...”

“She’s helping us on a mission,” Tardieh interrupted.

Helping them?

“I’m Dolores De Ortega,” the woman said – well, shouted. Her short nod showed deference, but failed to hide the wariness in her stare.

“Nice to meet you, Dolores. I’m Zoricah.”

“That’s fine. I don’t need to know the details,” Dolores replied, waving her hand in dismissal.
Oh, that woman needed some slapping!
“I assume you’re staying for the day?”

“Hum–,” Zoricah looked at Tardieh. He looked back at her.

“I’ll get the guest bedroom set up. JOSÉ!” she shouted before any of them could object.

A male vampire, as diminutive as Dolores, appeared by the kitchen door. “Take Dona Zoricah to the cuarto de invitados on the upper floor,” then she turned her attention back to Zoricah, scanning her up and down. “I’ll bring you some more appropriate clothes later.”

Zoricah opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She wanted to say that she didn’t need more appropriate clothes, or a guest bedroom. She was staying with Tardieh in
his
cuarto. Wasn’t she? She turned to Tardieh, expecting some sort of intervention. He looked back at her, but didn’t stop Jose when he took Zoricah by the arm – literally! – and pulled her toward the massive staircase.

At the guest room, she thanked José for his hospitality and closed the door behind her.

What in Hiad had just happened?

She had waited so long to be with Tardieh again. She had longed for this night, to tell him they could work things out, that she wasn’t saying “no” to his proposal, she was just...just... By Apa Dobrý, he didn’t even open his mouth! Why hadn’t he stopped Captain Dolores? He did want her here, didn’t he?

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