Fire Ch. 07

They vanished a moment later, around a twist in the street, leaving nothing behind but the trail of their voices, raised half-self-consciously in drunken mirth, and the lingering haze of the old but not forgotten memory that their sudden appearance had conjured up.

He could almost feel the mask on his own face again, hot and clammy, the beads of sweat trapped between the mask and his skin, the scent of liquor clinging to his breath and clothes. He closed his eyes. There was a jostle of energetic bodies, human and alive, limbs flying excitedly, haphazard, bouncing off the walls of the city as if the plaster and stone were the only things keeping them from flying off completely.

There was laughter, and singing, and cat calls, and vicious remarks. The watching eyes of passersby, some amused, some afraid, following him. So many nights like that one, blurred together, unremarkable, except in their endless similarity. Go out, get drunk, break something or get broken, and if you cling to consciousness long enough, find a girl in a dark alley. Except one night it was the wrong girl...in the wrong alley.

He opened his eyes, but she was still there, looking at him from her doorway. She tipped her head slowly to one side, her full red lips curving gracefully into a dark smile, filled with promises. Her eyes were like green embers, burning in an alien fire. Some old voice in him had told him to smile and keep walking, to let some other man have her; she was not for him. But it was a voice he had long resented and long ignored. A voice of fear and superstition.

Instead he'd veered away from his companions, and any who noticed enough to complain, he waved off, ignoring the sound of them disappearing into the night. Why should he waste time carousing when there before him stood beauty unmatched and impossible. Beauty beyond the word itself, there was something more there, something alluring, something frightening, and it had transfixed him.

He blinked, as if it could dislodge the image, the memory of that slim delicate creature beckoning him off the street with the crook of a single finger and the flicker of jade eyes. She said nothing, merely watched him and toyed with a strand of silky chestnut hair as she prowled, sizing him up. He had waited, foolish boy that he was, his body on fire with the knowledge that she had chosen him, and the strange certainty that she would find him acceptable.

When she'd laughed, he recognized it instantly as the sound of sex, hungry and dark, and he'd fallen into it without hesitation. That night had always been a blur to him. He remembered the eyes, the burning mouth, and skin that flowed like heavy silk beneath his hands. A series of sensations begun with those burning eyes, the caress of delicate fingers, and that sultry, laughing voice whispering, "you'll do."

It had ended when he awoke, just before sunset, his flesh crawling with ice and fire and his blood screaming through his veins and pounding against his skull. He had stumbled still naked from that unfamiliar bed, in that strange luxurious room, only to find his legs giving way with weakness, leaving him panting on hands and knees. He'd looked up, and she'd been there, watching him from across the room, draped over an overstuffed chair. She was lifting her arm and running a knife, his knife, the knife his father had given him, along the length of it, drawing blood.

His eyes had been locked on her as it well up from that long thin line and he'd been overcome with fear and horror. Not at the sight, but at the sudden animal hunger that had roared up inside him. He'd shook, and his mouth watered. When he ground his teeth against the feeling, he'd felt his own lip tear open. Lifting one trembling hand to his mouth he'd found them there, sharp and long, curved like the dagger she'd already tossed aside.

He heard the words as clearly as if they were in his throat again.

"What have you done to me?"

His voice was like a rasp and hers was like honey.

"Why dearest," she smiled that slow dark smile in his mind's eye and rose with serpentine grace, "I've made you a God. Powerful. I've given you eternal life. Aren't you pleased?" Her smile widened as she swayed towards him, "I've watched you. You're clever and cautious," she paused, and her eyes moved over him, "yet driven by strange passions. Like, and unlike, your kin in so many fascinating ways. You intrigue me," here she stopped and knelt at his side, her fingers drifting to his face, "and I've never taken a Prince before. Of course I know who you are," she said laughing, answering the unspoken question in his eyes, "I know everything. Drink."

A shout came from the street, and Jairus started, blinking, and looked down. Two men and a woman were arguing below him, their din dispersing his thoughts like so many startled birds. He grunted in annoyance and pushed away from the tower, leaping the narrow alley in one easy motion.

**

It had taken far less than an hour. They were Huroth after all, and to his relief, they hadn't much more to add to the search for the missing heiress, at least not yet. Unfortunately he was just as stubborn as Darius in his insistence on continuing the search. Especially unnerving was the fact that he planned to have his men scour all outlying areas in search of some remote habitation she might have stumbled upon.

Apparently there were rumors. This did not please him at all.

As he suspected it was Othwyn, Darius's most immediate rival, who met him at The Three Tuns. He'd not divulged precisely what he intended to do with Thea once he found her, but the overwhelming impression was that he planned on 'uniting' his family with hers. Othwyn was less irritating than Darius, but just by a hair.

He supposed that if either were to find her he'd rather it be Othwyn, not least of all because Darius's intentions were less 'honorable.' Then again there was the question of whether she might actually want to ally herself with him if given the choice. He ground his jaw slightly. Handing her over to another man, for any reason, was not an option he was willing to dwell on for long.

No, it was not, he had decided, going to happen.

Yet, even now as he sat listening to his newest client, the possibility plagued him.

The man was a prison guard, who wished to have a prisoner removed for personal reasons, and his immediate superior framed for professional reasons. He had to wait at least another four days, which was inconvenient, as he had already decided that he may no longer be here by then. He'd prefer to have the extra money before he left, but he would make due. He had more than enough to get her away on short notice and provide for the rest satisfactorily. It was clear to him that they would not let up the search, and he had no desire to wait around for them to stumble blindly upon her.

Of course he accepted the prison job, both on the off chance he might yet remain, and because he didn't want Marcus to get any more suspicious than he already was. And he was. Jairus could see it in his eyes, and he didn't doubt that Marcus was cut throat enough to stab him in the back if he thought he could. In Marcus's defense Jairus was doing the same to him. However, Jairus had the advantage, so whether Marcus was smart enough not to try to return the favor remained to be seen.

"Well? Is that acceptable?" The nervous looking guard asked, leaning forward to hiss his furtive whisper. They were alone in the same room he'd met Darius in, so he really didn't need to whisper. Most clients did though. The fear, or guilt, or excitement made them do it.

He nodded. The man started to reach out, as if to shake his hand, then thought better of it and stood instead.

"I'll, ah, you'll let me know...or the other fellow will, I mean?"

"Yes."

He cleared his throat. "Well...good then. Good evenin' to you then." Jairus also rose and gave him a brief half bow.

"And to you." And now, he thought, watching the man retreat, it was time to find a new home. He sighed. Starting over was always such an irritating prospect. He looked around the small dingy room. Well, he was sick of this place anyway. And if it meant he could still have Thea...then really, who cared where he went? Perhaps he'd go south, to the Baharin kingdoms.

It might amuse Thea to be the considered unusually fair for once.

He frowned, a sudden thought coming to him, perhaps dredged up by his earlier thoughts of his...well the one who turned him. He had never done it himself. The memories of his own turning, his revulsion, his initial struggle to adapt to what he had become, had been long and difficult to overcome. He had accepted it, eventually. It was that or go mad. It had never occurred to him to inflict that on another. And yet, there it was. The possibility of having her, that much longer...perhaps even...he pushed it out of his mind. This was not the time for that. Perhaps...perhaps in the future. There was too much else to deal with now. There was time enough yet.

**

By the next evening he was still mulling over his options as he wound his way through the crowed choked streets that ran along the main canal. The canal ended under a great arch, carved with depictions of imperial conquest and victory. It loomed like an awkward monolith over the undulating sprawl of the city proper. As absurd as a square of pure marble tossed into a bog to give it form and structure.

This being the northeast corner of the empire, far from the ancient capital of Demosus, most of the images depicted were of distant lands and strange faces. But that was the nature of empire; the arbitrary grafting of people like the cuttings of a fruit tree. Beyond the arch the canal spilled out of its man made bounds and flowed west.

As usual he followed the road until it branched south before cutting off the path. Toward home. Or rather towards May and Berin's home. It would soon be entirely in their keeping, along with the money he'd saved for them, knowing he would one day leave. He hadn't been entirely honest with Thea about it being hard to provide for them. There was always business in his line of work...and he wasn't cheap.

Something caught his eye this time as he turned off the main road. It was a figure amid the carts and pedestrians that trudged along through the muddy slush. It was a fair distance away, but it was a figure he'd caught as he had left the inn. He kept his pace the same and waited until he was out of sight of the thoroughfare before slipping into a shade of trees around which the road bent on a sharp angle. The figure caught up eventually and passed him. The figure was cloaked and hooded, but his stature reminded Jairus of the youthful assassin. He debated his options and decided he didn't want him following this road as it would eventually lead to the villages nearest his territory.

"Out for a stroll?" He asked as he stepped out behind the boy, making him start and whirl. The soft sound of metal on leather, and a tell-tale glint made him take a step back. He smiled faintly as the blade whistled harmlessly in front of him.

The boy jumped back in a ready stance, his eyes fiery and alert, waiting for a sudden movement. Jairus for his part merely stood his ground and contrived to look bored.

"It's a bit chilly out for that...don't you think?" He continued, ignoring the weapon being brandished at him. Slowly the young man collected himself, lowering, but not sheathing his blade.

"Shouldn't sneak up on a fellow like that." He growled, his voice still a little breathy from the exertion of fear.

"Ah, I apologize. I didn't mean to...alarm you." He smiled grimly "Tell me," he offered conversationally, taking a few steps to make a slow circle around him, "have you been sucked into playing errand boy for the barbarians?"

His chin went up defiantly. "What I do is my business." Jairus kept his tight smile.

"Indeed. Let us hope it remains that way."

"What do you care...you turned them down."

Jairus arched a brow, and his smile turned fluid.

"Heard that did you? I wonder where you're getting your information from. Anyone I know?" He purred.

The boy's face fell briefly before he caught himself. He shrugged.

"Maybe." He offered snidely.

Jairus continued to smile and circle. "Well, as it happens, I don't care...they're all yours. I just wondered at running into you. I just wanted to be...clear. You understand. I wouldn't want any of Your business to suddenly become My business."

He received only a hard look in return.

"Wouldn't you agree?" He widened his smile just for a second, giving him a glimpse of his teeth. Enough to unnerve the boy, but little enough to make him question later what it was he thought he saw. He could just make him disappear...but it was too early for that, it might make too big a ripple in the pool. And why bother when it was so much easier to just walk away. Some one had to replace him for poor Marcus after all. It wouldn't do to lose two knives at once.

The boy paled suitably and after a long minute nodded.

"Well...I suppose I should wish you good hunting then." His smile vanished and he tilted his head

"Take care." He added briefly then slipped back into the trees.

He stood a moment and watched through narrowed eyes as the youth made an attempt to follow him, giving up almost immediately when he saw there was no track to follow, and turning back towards the main thoroughfare. "I thought as much" Jairus muttered as he watched him go.

**

Thea chewed absently on her knuckle and adjusted her legs which were aching from kneeling on the hard wooden chair. The heat and warm comforting smells of dinner still lingered in the empty kitchen, threatening her with drowsiness. However her excitement over her discovery was enough to counteract the soothing effect, and instead she remained quite alert, giddily pouring over the history books stacked in front of her.

She wondered for the hundredth time that night when he was coming back. He'd not said when...he almost never did, but she was dying to share her excitement with someone, and as far as she knew he was the only one she could tell. She'd hate to have to wait another day for him. She huffed and glanced at the door. It remained closed, and the hall beyond, silent.

It was late and the others were already asleep.

She looked around her. The kitchen was still and peaceful. Everything was in its place.

She closed the book and ran a hand over the soft, worn, leather cover, licking her lips nervously. She'd discovered that it was rare for the Huroth to allow illegitimate children to take the throne, and in the rare precedents set where they did, they were always male. No exceptions.

Otherwise it went to a cousin or nephew. For once being a woman might actually work in her favor. Their own traditions and laws even forbid an unwed woman from taking the throne at all, regardless of their legitimacy. On top of all that, she wasn't even full blood, and from what she could discern this was also an unspoken requirement. She couldn't take over the throne. It was as simple as that.

She paused and frowned, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Surely they must know that themselves? Or had that information been somehow lost or confused in the flurry of the revolution and the muddle of establishing new rule. Perhaps if she could just tell them...but would they listen? Why should they listen? And yet, the thought ate at her mind, the possibility that she could convince them to leave her alone, that she wasn't interested in their affairs. She'd even sign something, if that was what they wanted. Otherwise what was she to do? Leave? Let them bully her? Run away to some distant land where she'd be lost and alone, all over again?

No. She couldn't let that happen. She wouldn't. Her previous anxiety was eaten up by the sudden flare of anger. Images of the villagers, thoughts and memories she'd pushed aside and buried in the past months came rushing back, and each one fed her building fury. She remembered the humiliation, the physical cruelty of the sacrifice as she was left to die alone and helpless, raw and bloodied, and all that after years of their subtle and cruel maliciousness.

How dare they? What right did they have?

An enraged but silent scream ripped through her body, making her shake and tense. She opened her mouth to release it, but all that came out was a hoarse panting breath. She stood there a long time, stiff as a board and panting until the faint tremble in her limbs finally subsided and her hot fury had cooled into a seething coil and wrapped itself around her taunt spine.

"Am I interrupting?"

Her breath caught in her throat and she turned her head slowly to the doorway. It was occupied.

She felt the coil loosen slightly as her eyes took in the tall casual figure leaning against the frame.

"Not all interruptions are unwelcome."

He smiled at that and sauntered slowly forward, coming to stand behind her, the tips of his fingers resting lightly on her arms. The coil unraveled even further as he traced up the length of her arms and shoulders, and she narrowed her eyes in pleasure as a tiny current of sensation shot up through her, starting from somewhere in the souls of her feet. The fingers slipped over her collar, and came to rest there with just the barest pressure.

She smiled softly and reached up to run her fingers over his.

"Thank you." She murmured, her eyes fluttering half-closed as she felt his grip tighten.

"For what? Interrupting?" He breathed against her ear. Her smile widened.

"For the gift." She tapped a finger against his hand, which lay very much like a necklace, lightly around her throat. He inhaled slowly and deeply. "It's beautiful." She added softly.

He said nothing for a moment. But she could feel his mouth close to her cheek.

"You're not wearing it." He offered gently after another long moment of silence.

"It's too fine to work in." She slipped her hand into the pocket of her skirt, careful not to shake off his hands with a sudden movement, and drew them out before them both, the necklace tangled daintily in her fingers.

He reached out and slid it from her hand, his other hand carefully sweeping the loose strands of hair off her neck. She felt a sudden pang of self-consciousness as she felt him fasten the necklace. It seemed incongruous that this handsome graceful man should be displaying something so fine on someone so frazzled and inelegant. It was only a passing unease, and dispelled all the more rapidly by warm breathe and cool lips brushing along the nape of her neck.

She let his hands lead her, as he turned her by the shoulders to face him, and stood still and silent under his gaze as he studied the necklace with both his eyes and his fingers.

"I have news," she murmured after a time, shifting a little under his careful scrutiny. His fingers slid upwards at her words, encircling her throat and chin in a fashion that, with anyone else, could only have been threatening and sinister. Her pulse did indeed race in response, but not in fear; not even in the mildest of apprehensions. Quite the opposite, in fact.

"I too have news." His mouth twitched up at the corner and his hand snapped open to release her like a trap sprung in reverse. He took her by the waist instead and lifted her to sit on the table's edge, pressing forward to insinuate himself between her knees before she had the chance to snap them shut. His smile widened and was returned in full as he snaked his hands around her body, pulling her close to press against him. "But I think it can wait." he added in a low murmur.

She let out a laughing sigh against the firm silk of his lips.

"Always putting things off," she whispered in a moment between the lingering caresses of his mouth. She felt, more than heard, his chuckle as it sent warm vibrations running through every part of her.