Daughter of the Tides, Servants of the Moon Book 2

Autumn…

Wanderer Esther Ayala leaned against the wall by the door, smoking a cigarette. She was waiting for someone. The air was bitterly cold from an early autumn front and she wondered when it would start snowing. A movement in the darkness would have had her jumping out of her skin had she not been expecting it, or rather, expecting him.

Larson Charlains was devastatingly handsome in the lamp light as he stepped out of the shadows and gave her a sly smile. They been lovers once upon a time, the experience was enough to send ripples of gooseflesh over her body at the memory.

The brother of the Augur Vampyr looked her over with slightly veiled eyes like he was having the same memory. Both, for a moment, seemed to forget the reason they had discontinued. He hated his sister’s visions and found Essie’s nightmares to be horrifying. Seeing them through her blood had been as bad as anything he had glimpsed from Lanea. He couldn’t bear her nightly torture or being woken by her fearful screams, but when they had sex it had been almost as good as mate-sex.

Essie wished the old mine that was the way point between the Moon’s Gate temple and the place of the Augur’s refuge, had a bed, or cot, or even just a pile of straw, because vampires weren’t as casual as wolves about where they had sex. She doubted Larson would be enthusiastic about a quickie in the filthy cave; he like soft surfaces and to take his time.

“How’s your sister?” Essie asked, tossing her cigarette butt on the floor of the tunnel.

“Still half-crazy from the visions she is having. Yours?” His deep voice rolled over her skin like silk.

“Still half-crazy from the visions she is having,” she answered with a wry laugh, then held out a folder. “Our newest acolyte is an artist. She turns eleven on the equinox, she’s young but very talented. Del wants Lanea to look at this latest set. The Delphi is afraid the Augur Vampyr and all vampire-kind isn’t safe in this land until we destroy the Sunwolf. She wants Viktor to take you all back to Patmos. We’ll send any more we find or rescue to you there.”

“But we can help destroy this abomination and his witches. Why won’t she let us?” Larson demanded. His sister was the most powerful vampire oracle in generations, and the only one living. If she let her existence become known, the covens would flock to her command. “My sister could summon the covens, the king would...”

“And they would kill her beloved because of what he is, a born half-breed. Do you want that to happen to her?” Essie’s cross words cut him off and he glanced away.

He looked hurt and she sighed heavily. Larson had spent his whole life hiding and Essie felt like she had spent her whole life fighting. He didn’t remember what happened when he was three. He did not understand the war that was coming, except for what had happened when his coven had been found and attacked the one time. Delilah had spent enormous resources keeping the last living vampire seer safe. He didn’t know the lengths at which others had gone to protect Lanea, and, as a side result, him.

“I’m sorry Larson, I know you want to help. Especially after what we’ve done together. But this is a wolf matter and our Goddess has declared we must deal with it ourselves.”

“But you won’t survive. Your nightmares...” His pale features held such concern for her, it broke her heart. The same way it did when another looked at her, a wolf who would die because she let him love her.

“If it is the will of the Goddess that I come to Her from the hand of my own mate, then I will. If it is Her will that I be delivered, then I will be. Have a little faith, Larson, our freaking sisters are the two most powerful females on the planet, they talk to the goddesses. What they see prepares us for what may be and how to change it for the better.”

They stood quietly for a few moments, neither looking at the other, finally Essie held out the drawings again. “Here. If I don’t see you again, I hope you find your beloved and have a long and happy life.”

Larson stepped closer and inhaled deeply as he took the documents. He acted almost upset; his hands shook slightly as he stared at the folder, and his question surprised her, “Did you change your perfume?”

“No, it’s the incense Del uses when she scrys. You’ve smelled it before.” She looked at him oddly.

His whole demeanor had changed. He was staring at the folder.

“It... it just smells different this time,” he muttered, “It must be the winter air. Goodbye, Essie, be safe.” Then he was gone like a shadow.

Essie stared at the space he vanished from. Thinking about how Viktor came and went the same way, then she just shrugged, shaking her head at her thoughts, ‘Vampires... sheesh! And everyone thinks I’m flaky...’

Essie stripped and stuffed her clothes into a wolfbag, a sort of backpack for her wolf. She put it on the two boards sticking out of another leaned against the wall. If someone stumbled on it they would just think someone had thrown some scrap wood into the old mine. Her dark brown wolf stretched and then stepped into the pack, lifting it. She had an all-night run back to the Moon’s Gate in the snow. Her wolf didn’t mind, but Essie hated the cold.

The nine-hour day had been over for eight hours when Larson arrived back at the underground city the Charlains Coven now called home. He made the almost twenty-hour journey to the hidden city straight through thanks to the cloud cover, twice as fast as a wolf could make the run. His soul was in such turmoil as he traveled that he really didn’t care if the sun shone on him and killed him. The wind and ice went unfelt as he ran. He discovered something was at the temple of the werewolves’ goddess, something he had to get away from. The thing he wanted most in his whole life now seemed impossible to attain, his Beloved.

The Augur Vampyr Lanea, her protector Viktor, and her beloved Max were waiting. Larson held out the folder then snatched it back, sniffing it before shoving it, almost violently, into Lanea’s hands.

He was trembling as he rapidly talked, “I can’t go back to the wolves’ temple or meet their messengers again... At first, I thought it was Essie, but it isn’t. I can’t... I can’t go back there,” Larson repeated in a rush.

“What is wrong, Larson? Did the wolves threaten you?” Lanea blurted out. She hadn’t seen her brother this upset since she had to tell him their grandparents died in the attack against their coven on the western coast.

Viktor shook his head, saying in his ancient accent. “It is your beloved. You have found her and believe you cannot be with her because she is neither mortal nor vampyr.”

“No. Yes... no, it isn’t that... exactly... One of the females who touched these is my beloved. It wasn’t Essie, so it is either the Delphi or her ward,” he choked out. His beloved was a wolf. Generations ago it had been decreed that Vampyr and Lycoan could not be joined, just like Vampyr were not to have children with a human unless the human was turned Vampyr.

“But finding your beloved is a good thing,” Max argued. “Isn’t it?”

Larson turned away, hissing inhumanly, “No, Max, it isn’t. Not this time. One is too young and the other... the other will probably die. They both may die because they are wolves, and the wolves are going to war! I don’t want to lose anyone else.” He stomped toward his rooms, leaving his shocked family and concerned mentor behind.

Max turned to his wife, “Did you see this?”

Lanea shook her head. “No, beloved, I did not. I only saw that my brother would find something to give him determination and courage within the Sacred Ring Lake.”

Viktor nodded slowly, his accented voice resonating with ancient power, “I believe he did. Larson has lacked the motivation to truly learn the skills I have been trying to teach him. He relies on his vampire abilities to succeed in combat. It will not be enough if we are facing witches who can rob us of our Goddess’ gifts. Discovering his Beloved lies among the wolves and is threatened with death will inspire him to work harder.”

Lanea rubbed her face, “Larson is going to think we tricked him.”

“It is not deceit if we did not know from whence his motivation would come,” Viktor reminded wisely.

Lanea smelled the images, and sighed, “Delilah has lost her mate. I do not believe it is her because Larson has met her. He may not remember because of how injured he was, but he did not react to her as though she were his beloved. It must be the child oracle.”

“But she is just ten or eleven years old,” Max gasped out. “Wasn’t she was born the same year as Lanisea?” He bit his lip in concern, vampire males were very physically and sexually possessive of their mates as his brother had found out. He worried for the child being treated inappropriately.

Sensing Max’s fears, Viktor held up his hand in a pacifying gesture, explaining. “A vampyr male can detect their beloved even as young as birth. It makes us more protective. Once we meet our beloved, no other female will do until ours is mature, at about twenty years of age. But do not fear for the child oracle, Max. Our inner shadow will not let us harm them or force the bonding if our beloved is too young or unwilling. Many a vampyr male has spent years, even decades, protecting their beloved. We are not the creatures your modern myth makers proclaim us to be.”

He looked in the direction Larson stormed off then back to Max and Lanea. “Larson will not be able to resist the urge to protect her, to be faithful to her. He is going to be very difficult as he fights against it, but do not fear, Augur. I will use the dark fire of his shadow’s need for his soul to forge him into a sword.”

“I didn’t know vampires had souls,” Max said ruefully.

Viktor gave him a black, empty-eyed look. “We don’t, but we do have a beloved and that is our soul.”

Rolling her eyes at their bickering, Lanea glanced at the drawings and the letter from her friend, the head oracle of the moon goddess. She frowned and handed the image to Max, who drew a sharp breath and then handed it to Viktor. It was the meadow above the burning underground city covered in spring flowers, but blood was seeping up from the ground around the flowers. The detail was haunting and terrible.

The words scribbled in ancient Baccussi said, SHE Must Flee or Her blood will feed the flames and flowers. It made Viktor snarl.

In the Delphi’s soft elegant script on another page was a detailed warning on how they needed to leave before the first flowers of spring matured to bloom so the enemy would find only an empty city. The rest of the page was a detailed plan of how they would travel to safety on a chartered ship captained by a wolf she trusted. Come the melting of the ice, they would go to the western coast and the Delphi of the wolves would once again aid the Augur Vampyr in reaching a safe haven. Lanea carefully hid her emotions from Max as she read the ancient languages of the first temples.

“The Delphi has arranged our transit to Patmos by a circuitous route unless you feel we should go somewhere else, Viktor,” Lanea held out all but one of the pages to Viktor.

He glanced through the arrangements and nodded, “It will be as the Delphi had planned. Perhaps we can stop and gather a few of the smaller covens and carry them with us…”

Lanea nodded thoughtfully. “Find them but do not inform them, we cannot risk the Sunwolf discovering our plans if he finds them before our departure.”

Viktor bowed, “It shall be done, Augur.”

Lanea took the letter and images back to her rooms. On the last page was a personal note from Delilah. It begged Lanea to not give up hope and was a request to protect her youngest acolyte if the temples should fall. Del said she would use the last of her power to send Ainsley to Patmos through the Tides if she could. Lanea did not let her tears rise as Del expressed her fear that neither she nor Essie would survive this war. Del also feared it might be too late to stop the war here from destroying the wolves of this land, and that the Augur Vampyr with the covens and packs across the sea may be the last defense to protect the world from being dominated by the evil that they both knew the Sunwolf was. It brought a darkness to the long winter night that it did not have before.

The Moon would be waging war against the Sun for Her children, and the vampires’ three-faced Goddess would be a bystander. The followers of the Goddess of Death, Sex, and Time; the Mother of the shadowed soulless ones, who had gathered them after they were cursed and rejected by the Sun for refusing to murder all that lived, would be the last hope to save the world if the faithful of the Moon failed. The night was dark but the ones to come would be darker.