Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Conclave, Daiva 05
   by Nysidra
   <->
   -_ Shadow Cat _-
   "There's her there," Henry pulled the cigarette from his mouth and
pointed.  "Shadow Cat."
   "Don't look like no cat to me."
   A few of the other men hummed in agreement.
   Cliff being one of them.  Henry had said she was beautiful, and that was
all truth, especially in that frilly flour-white dress.
   The girl balanced a plate bearing a slice of light-colored pie on one
palm, and a swollen twine bag swung from her other.  She turned her face to
the sky with a secret-bearing smile.
   In the background, the others were gabbing about something else.
   Soon as she was close enough, he called out.  "Hey, sugar, let me get a
piece of that pie, yeah?"
   Laughter, then a hush over the worksite as they listened for her
response.  Too quiet, Winston and Henry usually had a word or two for the
ladies.
   She glanced in their direction, still walking.
   A few chuckles, this time at him.
   She paused at the slat bench then sat with the custard pie in her lap.
   His buddies whistled and howled as Cliff crossed the street to her.  His
overalls were covered in the day's grime, a bit of dust in his beard. 
Better the beard than the scar than ran up his cheek to his right ear.  He
sat on her right smelling of sediment and soil.
   From her, he smelled cinnamon, honey, and vanilla.  She pinched a piece
of the pie, held it to his lips.
   He leaned forward and licked the treat from her fingers.  He made the
low sound without thought, "Mmm," he sucked on her little fingers until
they were clean.  His attention darted back to the others.
   She pinched off another piece.
   "What's your name, cutie?" He accepted her offering, taking his time now
that he had a second chance.
   "May."
   "Cliff." He licked his lips.  "This sure is a tasty pie." He licked each
finger, tongued between her index and middle.
   Her mouth curled into a half smile.
   Sweet little thing.  He kissed the back of her hand.  "Thank you again,
May."
   With a nod she rose and balanced the plate and bag.  She gave him a
small curtsey and continued down the street as if men licked pie from her
hand every day.
   In a daze, he headed back to the pit.
   "What was that?"
   "Who was she?"
   "Going to get yourself canned chasing tail like that."
   "You know her?  Come on.  Tell us."
   Cliff shook his head and sought the nearest spot to sit.  He felt as if
woken from a great stupor.  "I asked for pie and she gave me some."
   "But who was she?"
   "Seen Shadow Cat by this way before.  She never say a word."
   "She slow?"
   "Can't be.  Somebody going to show her reality one day, and she'll grow
up quick."
   "Damn," Cliff tucked his tongue along his lip.  She tasted better than
the pie, like hot syrup coating a pile of pancakes.  "I hope not.  I want
seconds."
   "Girl that easy is trouble."
   "Or she's just plain easy."
   The tell-tale groan of the bossman's screen door had them all on their
feet and tools in hand.
   ***
   After work, Cliff steered clear of his normal joint.  He didn't want to
retell his story of meeting the girl.  He didn't want to swap notions about
her.  That moment was his.  He wasn't up to sharing.
   He checked the signs and peeked inside.  Whether he felt welcome or not,
seeing May seated to a table pulled him inside.  He thought the girl in her
early teens.  Could still be the fact if she was somebody's daughter.
   She nodded as the man leaning across the back of a chair talked.  He
must have been a counselor or preacher, because she seemed taken by his
message.
   Cliff didn't know if he'd be able to talk about anything that would hold
a young woman's interest.
   To the bartender he said, "You know that girl?  A beer."
   "He's not sitting down.  Go and take a seat.  If she doesn't want you
to, she'll let you know.  I recommend listening to her."
   None of that made sense.  And yet, none of her made sense.  He took
whatever advice he could get.
   Cliff paid for his beer and took it with him to her table.
   "...it allows us to drill for a longer duration, or so this pencil
pusher says..."
   He glanced at the chair, but only put his hand on the back.  "May?"
   She pointed to him then the chair.
   The other man nodded to him and bowed to her.  "I'll be on my way.  Good
evening."
   Cliff sat down with a smile.  He was probably doing her a favor.  That
man talked up barn.  "Hey.  Do you remember me?"
   She nodded.
   "Quiet, huh?" He bit his lip, caught a peek inside her blouse.  No sign
of a bra.  He took a swig from his beer.  "I'd like to get another taste of
you."
   "Address?"
   He coughed, set his mug down.  What did she say?  "It's ah," he tapped
himself on the chest.  "7 Ocean Road." Would she really visit him?  "It's,
ah, green siding."
   "You and me at your house until morning?"
   He nodded and gulped.
   "When?"
   "Uh, not tonight?"
   She shook her head.
   "Right.  Ugh," he looked around the room.  "Where had that man gone? 
Are you a," he lowered his voice.  "Is there a fee?"
   She chuckled and the sound was as fanciful as laughing rabbits.  "No,
Cliff.  I like your enthusiasm for pie."
   He had been grinning so long that his cheeks hurt.  "Tomorrow, after
sunset?"
   She nodded.
   "I'll be watching for you."
   She leaned across the table and traced his scar.  The sensation was soft
as a kiss.  "Please rest well."
   ***
   That next evening Cliff paced his small home with a sweating palm to his
forehead.  What was he supposed to do if she showed?  He hadn't much luck
with the ladies, but he didn't mind paying for a bit of comfort.
   She hadn't said how much hers would cost.  Would she wait until she
could see the place?
   He paused in his living room.  It was never going to be in an edition of
Elegant Homesteads, but he picked up after himself well enough.
   The girl wasn't slow.  Few words between them, but her dark eyes
captured and held his.  Strange?  Undeniable.
   Tap tap.
   He went to the door and pulled it open.  It was her, not a team of
thieves or an angry adult.
   She stepped inside and held up a bottle of liquor.  "You like this?"
   "Yeah, I do." He smirked.  "Do you?"
   She nodded.
   "I'll pour us some.  Ice?" When he heard nothing, he looked at her.
   She shook her head.
   There was so much he thought to say, to ask.  Now that she was in his
house, he didn't want to scare or run her off.  She brought him a decent
bottle of rum.  Would she charge for the bottle?  Good thinking.
   "All right, here you are."
   She opened his icebox and scanned the contents.  She took the glass from
him and went to his cabinets, checking each one between sips.
   "You looking for something?  I could help."
   She paused and shifted from her crouched position to look at him.  She
sipped from her drink, pointed to him, her glass, then tipped it to her
lips.
   He took a drink.
   Half an hour later they sat to his table eating pan-fried sandwiches and
drinking.  The absurdity hit him all at once.  Here he was, being courted
by a girl that had fed him pie with her own fingers yesterday afternoon.
   She looked like a girl to him.  Though she handled her liquor like a man
and cooked like a lady, he could not get around her youthful face.
   He had her until morning.  "Come sit with me."
   She followed him into the living room.  Once he was seated she took his
leg and stretched him around until she could sit between his open thighs.
   Her sweater buttons had been undone.  Healthy dark skin made a river
between the light colored fabric.
   Cliff pushed the sweater back.  A beautiful set of tits, fat tips like
muffin tops.  He held his breath as the pad of his thumb brushed her
nipple. He waited for a rejection that did not come.
   "You let any man do this to you?"
   "Cliff," she took her sweater off and lay it over the back of the couch.
"Mention no one else when we are together.  Not your lovers, not mine." She
lifted the hem of her skirt, bare pussy.  "Am I wet?"
   He reached down and found a hot fount of pussy cream.  His fingers
filled the room with smacking noises.  "Yeah," he rasped.
   "What will you let me do with you?"
   He groaned and shifted his growing erection.  "Woman like you?  Think I
better, better learn as I go."
   "This feels good." She rolled her hips a few times and stood.  "Get your
dick out, please."
   He pushed his pants down, shimmied until he held his rod upright in his
hand.
   She pulled his trousers the rest of the way, until he wore only his
socks.  She straddled him and positioned the tip of his cock at her pussy.
Wet, hot, then he was rising into her, being swallowed by her.  Once she
got him coated, she rode him, going slow at first, but working herself up,
rubbing her clitoris.  All her noises were a series of grunts and moans.
   As her orgasm subsided, Cliff sped up and spilled his cock inside her.
He was breathing hard, looking up with wonder in his eyes.
   His focus shifted and he let his head rest on the back of the couch.  He
whispered a curse, feeling like heaven: relaxed, calm, sedate.
   She leaned over the back of the couch and smiled.  Her fingertips
caressed his cheek.
   ***
   She never asked for money.
   Not that he didn't give it.  He spent more money buying groceries,
better sheets.  He gave her gifts and helped her when she asked.  It was
less than he would have given any woman of his.
   For several times a week, she was his alone.  Cliff he didn't tell
anyone about her.  He didn't know if anyone would believe him.  Not that he
wanted to, what time she spent with him was always scheduled.  There were
others, the knowledge gnawed at his spine, but when she was with him, she
was his alone.
   They sat across from each other playing chess.  He'd never touched the
game, but she brought it by, and with her quiet instruction, taught him to
play.  He was fascinated with the game, and sometimes spent more time with
her playing games than fucking.
   "I don't see how you're not aware that someone would call you a whore."
   "A whore is?"
   Cliff chose his move.  "A woman that has sex for money."
   "What money?"
   "Yeah, that.  What about money?  How old are you?"
   She made her move on the board.  "Finish explaining how someone might
call me something I am not."
   "You've never been called something you're not?  What about a loose
woman?"
   "Would you characterize me as loose?"
   He face warmed and his ears turned hot.  He swallowed.  "No, ma'am."
   "I do not fear lies.  Check."
   He looked down at the board.  "How many moves before we call it?"
   "Think about your roads to success, not your plans for failure."
   "What's wrong with planning for failure?"
   "It will be the plan you accomplish." May said.  "A person will follow
the path of ruin if he thinks it is his own creation.  Do not entertain
ruin, plan to succeed."
   "If I fail?"
   "New plan, each one focused on victory."
   "You sound keen to be a general.  Too bad about the tits, huh?" He
chuckled.  He wasn't looking at her, but he felt as if the window on her
warmth had been closed.  "I've upset you."
   "I come here because you ask to see me.  If you fear others will think
ill of me, then you forget who you should fear."
   Shit.  He scratched his jaw and shook his head.  "May, I'm sorry.  You
are right.  I let others come between us."
   She pointed to her chest.  "The army I lead appreciates my tits."
   "And you will only lead us to victory."
   She pointed to the board.  "One way you can move that will lead to
success.  Find it and follow the path backward."
   "I'm playing against you.  You'll just," he coughed slightly, studying
the board closer.  Damn it.  The last thing he needed to do was upset her
more.
   Cliff had upset her once.  In frustration, he grabbed her arm while
talking to her.  He hadn't meant to be violent or aggressive.  Henry
bragged that his gal respected him more when he got stern with her.  May
didn't flinch.  She stared at her arm where his thumb overlapped his
fingers.
   As if burned, he let her go and took a step back.  May left the
bathroom. He splashed water on his face while thinking of a way to
apologize.  She sat on his bed, clothed, playing with the ends of her
curls.
   She didn't throw a tantrum.  There were no tears.  She remained with him
until the appointed hour.  He spent that time in agony.  No smile, no
conversation, not even her touch.  He touched her plenty, kissed her, but
she had turned into a statue, took away all that he adored about her.  He
spent his last hours apologizing, explaining, groveling like a tortured
prisoner.
   He never wanted to disappoint her again.
   "Yes!" He protected his king.  "You know I love you, right, May?  That I
would do anything to have you as my girl for life?"
   She nodded.  "I appreciate that, but unless I ask, do not assume you
will get a result you like."
   "I know, May." He breath rattled out his chest.  Navigating her approval
could be like dodging land mines.  He always messed it up when he tried to
treat her like a normal woman.
   Cliff thought of her as an alien, arrived on a great ship and living in
the body of black woman.  They got the hair wrong though, those rich dark
tresses seemed a bright chocolate against her skin, but dark brown against
white sheets.  He kept her like a religious secret, a gift from the gods to
cherish.
   ***
   Maxilla entered the house through the storm shelter hatch.  She pulled
the doors shut in her wake and descended the stairs to her dresser.  She
changed into blouse and skirt, braided her hair and secured it with ribbon.
   She packed a box with her jewels, money, ribbons, and clothing.  She
tied it shut with twine and set it behind the stairs.
   On her way to the main house she slipped into her soft shoes and picked
up her work bucket.
   She unlocked the door and started with the kitchen.  Remnants of a
breakfast: soiled frying pan, cooling rack, cold porridge.  She washed the
dishes, put them in their place, wiped down the counter and table.
She squeezed fruit juice in a pitcher and put the pulp in hot water to
use on the floors.  Hours passed, one room after another left clean and
fragrant.
   The front door opened.
   Maxilla glanced at the clock.  Past midday, but not sunset.  Metal and
leather clinked and wood groaned under the heavy gait.
   "May?"
   She set her work aside and faced the officer.  When he signaled her to
follow, she left her work in place.
   It was too bad about the state of Cliff's surroundings.  She needed a
place that she could use alone.  That often meant finding a man of means,
powerful people who said things like honor, values, and reputation.  A
live-in maid was an easy role to play.  She liked to know the condition of
gadgets and devices.  While cleaning, she could inspect all manner of
machinery.
   She protected Paul's honor now.  For six months she had enjoyed his
hospitality, living in his basement, using it as her home.  His family had
become suspicious.  He protested her presence, said he wanted her gone.  As
predicted, they called the law who was swift in their timing.
   "Got somewhere I can take you?"
   She shook her head as she lay across the back seat of the police
cruiser. A few days from now this place would be a memory.
   She'd miss her friends.  "Train depot."
   "Oh, you planning a nice holiday now that Paul's an honest man?"
   "Paul will always be a liar, a wife and children will not change him. 
Buy me a ticket?"
   "You don't want to go by train, May.  How about the bus?  It's better
than the rear cars.  Those are full of hobos and criminals."
   "Train." No sense in telling an officer of the law how many honest men
were in the company of hobos and thieves.  She preferred their company when
she wanted to relax.
   "Wait.  You're leaving us?  How long?  I could find you a warm bed, but
you usually give me notice.  I don't have anything planned."
   When he glanced back, she was looking at him.
   He nodded and faced front.  "Damn," he hissed.  "Train station it is. 
Need to swing by the bank first.  It's a shame you were born the way you
were."
   "It is not."
   He chuckled.  "You wouldn't know how hard you've got it, now would you?
Know how many houses I've pulled you out of?  How many irate women I've had
to talk down from killing you?"
   "Yes."
   He parked by the bank and turned back to her.  "You know?"
   Maxilla nodded.  "I depended on you.  Thank you for being reliable."
   Officer Daniels opened his car door with a smile.
   Before sunset she sat in the train station, hair tied in cream ribbon, a
blue blouse, black skirt, and brown soft shoes.
   Big man, thick black beard.  His jacket creaked as he leaned forward. 
"You traveling alone?"
   She nodded and moved closer to him.
   He looked down then up again.  His mouth opened, but he snapped his jaw
shut seconds later.  A little bit after that, he put his arm around her
shoulders.
   She leaned on his chest.
   He cleared his throat, sat a little straighter, looked around.  The
tension eased and his heart rate calmed.  He smelled strongly of peppermint
and smoke, grease, and wet wood.
   "Who she?" A metal chair groaned.
   A response was interrupted by the boarding call.  Maxilla carried her
ticket over and boarded.  A woman in a wide brimmed hat waved her over, a
look of urgency on her face.  She said something to her traveling companion
and she shook her head, then pulled her friend's hand back.
   Maxilla didn't want to sit near them.  She checked a few of the rear
spots.
   "Welcome to share this one with me." A man in his twenties said from
behind her.  He stood to let her inside then took his seat.  He looked down
the aisle with a slight frown.  Had he noticed the empty seats closer
front? He sat but not too close.
   He was on edge for the first half hour, looking around each time a man
moved.
   Best remedy for that was time.
   "So, ah, what's your name?  Where you headed?"
   Maxilla got on her knees and eased toward sitting in his lap.
   "Sec." He took off his jacket and turned so that his back was to the
aisle.  "There.  How you want to sit?"
   She straddled his lap and lay on his chest.
   "Like that huh?" He put his jacket over her back.  "You going to talk to
me, sugar?"
   She shook her head.
   "Not even your name?" He drew a sharp breath as her fingers worked to
open his trousers.  "Okay, no talking." He muffled his groan into her neck
as she slid down on him.
   Between discrete rounds, he'd chatter about working machinery, his old
haunts, betting on dogs.  When his cock got hard again he would let words
fall to the wayside.  Maxilla didn't move much, all she needed to do was
clench her vaginal muscles, caress the side of his neck.
   She was quiet as a mouse.  When the porter walked by, she could tell by
the look in his eye that he knew she was doing more than sitting, but he
didn't say a word.
   Her stop was coming up soon.
   "Jasper," her soft voice snatched him from his half-sleep stupor.  "My
name is May."
   "Damn happy to know you, May.  Come with me, yeah?  I never met no one
like you in my life.  I will be good to you.  Promise."
   "You are very good now."
   "I can be better."
   She frowned.  How could he do better than keeping her safe and
satisfied?
   "I want you to be my lady."
   He confused better with worse.  "No."
   It was his turn to frown.  "Why not?  What was all this about then?"
   "Enjoying you." She leaned forward and kissed him.  "If you cannot be
mine alone, would you rather me leave?"
   "Hell no, but I don't want this to be the last time."
   "This your stop?" She tucked him back into his trousers.  The smell of
their bodies filled the air.
   "Yeah."
   "Then I will follow you."
   ***
   For the first ten years of her life, Maxilla was never more than an
arm's reach from another person.  She would sleep nestled between her
parents, Kevin and Tiara.  When one of them woke, they carried her out the
bed.
   Tiara schooled her in math, reading, physiology, and biology.  Kevin
taught her economics, logistics, politics, and military science.  They
spent most of their time educating her about the normal world, much to
Maxilla's satisfaction.  She was never bored when she had a concept on
which to focus.
   Normal people, too, were full of stories, knowledge, and skills.  Some
of them had more imagination than experience, others focused on the
minutiae or took a galactic view.
   She might have missed on this vast resource if not for Tiara's betrayal.
   It was Tiara who dressed her up and took her to see the man named
Ambrose.  Maxilla had taken an immediate liking to him.  She would drift to
sleep full of his vitae.  One day, Tiara took her to see him and never
returned.
   In retrospect, Maxilla preferred to face her fate early, rather than
suffer later.  Months of sickness and pain, screaming herself hoarse,
pouring sweat, and retching acid.  She gave them what they wanted, a
screaming, squealing, blood-soaked infant.  She remained imprisoned under
his watch as she let the squealing mass of flesh drain her for months.
   For Tiara's betrayal, Maxilla assured the destruction of each laboratory
and library maintained by her mother.  As for her father, when she stared
into his eyes, she only saw his love, honest and pure.  She loved her
father, who had only adoration and praise.  He worshipped her like a
princess and told her fantastical tales of the underworld that never got a
volume history.  However, his love was not enough to remain with a woman
she hated, only enough to keep her alive.
   She left them behind at the age of fifteen, explored the world and the
normals that thrived in it.  Tiara's treachery would never be repeated.
   The vitae of the normal was a ghastly step down from Ambrose, further
still from her parents, but it worked.  She preferred the healthy,
intelligent, and talented.  Those with a subset of knowledge gained only
through the experience of their years had a unique flavor, much in the way
that others spoke of fine wine.
   ***
   Jasper paid for an inn, only one night while he 'explained his
situation.' He didn't say to whom, and Maxilla didn't ask.  She would only
need the room for one night.
   A Robin's egg blue camper van would arrive soon.  Maxilla came to this
knowledge as both a dream and certainty.  That was how Ambrose could get
into her head.  Though she was aware of his tactics, nothing in her power
could stop him.
   Behind her, Jasper snored lightly, deep asleep after the their vigorous
round earlier in the evening.
   In the predawn silence, the rumble of a van pulled into the parking lot.
She slipped out of bed and into her clothes, resigned to her fate, whatever
that would be.  With other people, normal people, she could get a feel for
their actions.  Ambrose deformed her ability to predict him.  She knew only
what he told her.
   She opened the door and pulled it shut behind her, her soft shoes
crunched bits of dry leaves underfoot.
   A light colored camper, a pale woman in the driver's seat, and young boy
beside her.  Ambrose held the rear door open.
   Once inside, she sat still as a statue.
   He settled beside her, the familiar smell of camphor wafted from him. 
<I am not here to harm you.>
   <You want me to believe that.  Get out of my head!>
   Echoes of her own screams crawled from the pit of her memory.  She had
to be strapped to iron posts while they cut into her belly to free the
thing killing her from the inside.
   No one else in the back with them, only the driver and her passenger up
front.  No one she recognized, but Maxilla had been away so long, any
number of new people could have moved into the camp.  Unlike other daiva,
Ambrose lived outside the cities and buildings of civilization with groups
he taught to live off the land, fend for themselves.  It was a world
outside history, never written about or remarked upon.
   The van pulled onto the highway headed north.
   Maxilla stared at him.  Heat suffused her cheeks, pain grew in her
chest, acid churned in her gut.  If only she knew the way to kill him.
   "It will not change your past, my queen."
   She sneered and rolled her eyes.  Brood mare is what he wanted from her.
Slave.  A subject of experiment.
   "Is it right you should feel such pain?" He whispered.  "Let me show you
my promise."
   He set her in his lap.  A wave of energy poured over her and she clung
to him to avoid falling.  Knowledge followed.  This was different from his
usual methods of manipulation.  Or was he better at hiding it?
   <Why would I hide the truth from you now?>
   He had not come for her to harm her.  They were going on a trip and he
wanted to travel with her.  He did not need another child, the one he had
was his world.
   She frowned at him.  <It lived?>
   <She thrives.>
   <Then where are you taking me?>
   <You have never attended a gathering.>
   <I want nothing to do with daiva.>
   <Good.  I want you to be with me, only for the duration.  I adore you,
mother of my child.  I love you.  I miss you.>
   <I hate you.>
   <You are afraid.  The sensation is foreign, as it should be.  You don't
have to fear me.  Don't you want to learn who they are?  What takes place?>
   Dangling knowledge before her, like an apple to a horse.  Maxilla
salivated at the prospect.  <I'll go.  Stop.>
   <I curry your favor, Maxilla, not your wrath.>
   <If only I could show you my wrath.>
   He kissed her forehead.
   <I will be with you if I must, but invisible.>
   <You don't have to see them to know.> He brushed his fingertip over her
smile.  <What I know will be yours.>
   -_ Gathering _-
   "In the month of Julius, fourteen hundred and sixty-two, I met a haughty
little shopkeeper who went by the name of Caroline.  I had been staying in
the Chateau de Blois and my equally exalted ladies, Antasia and the
departed Nico, wanted a beauty to complement their own.  Of course, they
put the onus on me to find such a woman.  I'd like to say I have done well
in choosing my progeny.  Caroline, known to you as Kara, took to the life
of a daiva with elegance and adds to the pride of my existence.  We gather
in celebration of our fortune in view of the gorgeous Blue Ridge mountains.
   "We have Mr.  Claudius Thompson to thank for use of his lodge and the
property.  You may not see him, but his staff will be dressed in navy blue
and white.  They are not to be harmed, but they along with others, are
available for any vigor or entertainment as you may require.  Daiva will be
here in the main house, first and second floors.  The rooms on the ground
floor are furnished for leisure.
   "Enjoy yourself, and remember the law.  If there is an issue which
threatens our peace, Ambrose will act as conciliator.  I assure you, none
of you want to learn how he settles a complaint."
   Subdued, nervous laughter rose around the room.
   Maxine took in the assembled faces like a young girl in a new toy store.
Max preferred to observe her glee and scan the room with his mind.  They
were in the presence of more daiva than they had ever known.  Though
several of the faces were familiar, half as many more were strangers.  Some
had crossed the ocean to attend.  Rather than fight the crush of so many
impressions, Max used Maxine's focus to guide him.
   <You need to focus on one thing at a time,> said Max.
   <That's what I'm doing.> She turned to look behind her.
   <Focus on him.>
   <I'm not interested in Alexander.  I already know him.> She leaned
forward and turned her head.  <I don't see anyone that could be Ambrose.>
   <Everyone here is not in this room.>
   <Really?  How many?  Where?>
   <Three or four in the building, more outside.  I'm focusing through you,
so pay attention to the daiva around us.>
   Maxine huffed and sat straight.
   <Thank you.  I'll adjust soon.>
   ***
   Max entered the ground floor lounge behind the woman he had only
glimpsed years ago.  She stretched over a floor pillow over an open book.
Her hair was pinned in a bun, and corkscrew curls escaped like a wire cage
full of tiny snakes.  She wore a short-sleeved silk blouse and a long,
shapeless black skirt.
   "You were much better dressed the first time I met you."
   "I wore a shroud, Mister Austin."
   "A crocheted lace gown.  It peaked through the opening.  Did you wear
the shroud because that was all you had on?"
   "No.  We are not allowed to wear those clothes outside the house." She
did not look up from her book.  She made no response to his teasing nor
acknowledged that he'd made an attempt.  "It can give the appearance that
we are celebrities, and people are more curious about them than normal. 
Wealth brings suspicion."
   "That has not deterred the wealthy and the famous."
   She flipped the page of her book.
   "I'm going to into the woods tomorrow afternoon.  You and your book are
invited."
   She shook her head.
   Max positioned himself in view of her, but several feet away.  He folded
his hands behind his head, stared out the open door at people passing by.
He closed his eyes and concentrated on her presence alone, forcing the
vision to his mind.
   Still young in her power, but no where near her full potential.  She was
a weed, growing fast and tall, reaching several feet a season.  Soon she
would tower high above.  Was it the attention she feared?  So much like
Yeasmine, wary of others.  Hiding her wealth in plain sight, covered in a
shroud.
   "Felicia," he started at a whisper then spoke to her mind.  <What are
you hiding from?>
   That got her attention.  He opened his eyes to see wide red ones staring
down at him.  Her chest heaved with each breath.  She looked back over her
shoulder to the open door.  Fear and excitement swirled through her.  "How
did you do that?"
   He pointed to her book and she hurried back over to it.
   <I think it's a skill, not a qua.  My sister taught me, and anyone she
speaks to can speak back.  Focus on me.>
   Her response was not verbal.  It was a gust of wind carrying a swirl of
emotion: adoration, curiosity, trepidation, frustration, and then, <The
last person who helped me died.>
   <Noted.>
   <Are you truly more powerful than Setamious?>
   <I was boasting that day, but he did not challenge my claim.  Only one
power matters in this world: perception.>
   <I disagree.>
   <Ah, yes, yours, a power that cannot be questioned, that requires no
acknowledgement to verify its vastness.  Yet, you cower in corners and
scurry like an insect.>
   Another feeling, less overwhelming, but just as clear: respect, a
stronger dose of curiosity.  <Can you protect me?>
   <Why do you need protection?>
   As if she had taken command of his visions, a new one rose.  He saw a
dormant volcano, covered with snow, abandoned, winds howling.  The winds
roared so loud that it was hard to hear the warning rumble.  The ground
shook with the impending explosion.  How had she placed that image in his
mind?
   Max said, <I want to know what I am protecting.>
   She took a step back and extended her hand.  "Hello.  I do not believe
we've been formally introduced.  My name is Felicia Metoyer."
   "Pharmaxious Austin." He accepted her hand and tingling warmth ran up
his arm.  It was like dipping his arm into warm water, soft and inviting.
He came to understand the fun-loving creole youth, the scared young daiva,
the kept woman, the sorceress in hiding.  All of these: threatened,
anxious, trapped.  A girl who wanted to enjoy her life shackled by her
burdens.  A woman deserving of glory, shuddering in fear.
   <Did it work?  Did you know?>
   He shifted in his seat, but the sensation of unbalance was not reflected
in his posture.  <Reincarnation exists?>
   She snatched her hand back and returned to her book.  Another fretful
glance to the door, then him.
   Setamious rounded the corner and entered the room.
   She smiled, "Have you noticed how greatly he's matured since last?"
   "The Austin twins inspire much in the way of discussion at this
gathering.  The sun has not yet set and people seek to name it a conclave.
I hope you are able to attend the next one.  Great tragedies have been
known to take a daiva long before their time." He turned to Felicia.  "What
are you doing in here?"
   "Reading." She gathered the book and showed it to him.
   "This is good." He tapped the cover.  "Inspired thought.  Come find me
later."
   "Yes, sir."
   This man had threatened her, yelled at her, frightened her.  Max had
seen the crimes Setamious forced her to commit to alleviate his own
worries. He executed that which he viewed as a misuse of power, any signs
of malicious intent.
   Setamious left and she remained rooted to her spot, wringing her hands.
   <You need me?> Max lifted a single brow in disbelief.
   <Like you, I am still growing.  Like you, I worry for my security.  I
have a profound attraction to you.>
   <No need for that.  You have no such feelings.>
   She smirked and her expression looked on the cusp of a laugh, but just
as quickly, it faded.  She approached and took both his hands in hers. 
<Power can be quite a draw.  Stop sleeping with elderly women.  Us young
girls have what it takes to satisfy.>
   He caressed the back of her hand.  She was not much different in age
from himself, and yet, that lava ran deep, to the center of the earth. 
When it finally erupted, the snow would turn to water, flooding the
surrounding land.  <The only time I take up with attached women is when I
plan on stealing from them.>
   She smiled.  <Do I not offer the bounty of all ages?>
   <Meet me tomorrow.  We will go for that walk.  In the mean time: dress
the way you want, read what you want, laugh when you want.  Place faith in
my protection.>
   She smirked and attempted to pull her hands back, but Max tightened his
grip.
   <I expect an answer.>
   Her eyes widened.
   <Oh, I see you, little sorceress, more than you intended to show.  I
will protect your authentic self, and only when I see it.  Is it too much
to ask?>
   "Tomorrow then." She pressed a quick kiss to his lips.
   ***
   "Yes, but the work has been vilified.  It's too dangerous to run houses
these days.  The men have turned cowardly and the women are worse.  What
once was praised as divine recreation is now derided as the greatest evil."
   Antasia caught sight of Maxine and waved her into the room.  "Maxine
Austin, I'd like to introduce you to Veronica Angeline.  Maxine is Kara's
line."
   Veronica kissed the finger tips of her gloved hand.  The woman speaking
had an oval face, thin lips.  Her fawn-brown hair was pinned tight to her
head in an array of ringlets.  "It was a warning only, but I didn't take
kindly to it.  It's so hard not to be worshipped."
   "The warning was a kindness," said Kara.  "Ten buildings, Veronica? 
That you feign surprise is laughable."
   Maxine settled into the empty chair beside Kalahari.  Various creams,
powders, and tubes of make-up lay scattered on the table.
   "That whore knows what side her bread is buttered on." Veronica's
comments caused a still around the table.  She turned to Maxine with a
smile.  "My, what a gorgeous woman.  Exotic.  I have a client list that
would worship your trash."
   "I wouldn't mind having a look at it." Maxine said with a wink.
   "Don't let her get you into trouble," said Kara.
   "At least she's giving me a choice." She had spent several years in
Kara's pleasure house with little say in who would enter her room or when.
   Veronica glanced to Kara and nodded.  "Choices are for the experienced.
I do the same to my new girls.  The skill is invaluable as a daiva, to read
a person within those first few seconds.  You learned?"
   "Yes," Maxine pulled over the tube of pink lip stick and smeared it on
the back of her hand.  That she didn't steal from Kara on her way out was
all appreciation she planned to show.
   "She's been under my tutelage as well," Antasia noted with a proud grin.
   Tahereh entered the room with a small pouch and set its contents on the
table.  "These are items I purchased from her."
   "And you say this cream is better than a powder?" Antasia leaned over
and pulled one of them over.
   One conversation drifted into another as they talked about the beauty
products and each other.
   Antasia made the comment to Kara that, "It will be nothing like my
gathering.  Times are too fragile for such revelry."
   "What happened?" Maxine leaned forward, anxious to know about past
gatherings.
   "A bit friendly sport," said Antasia.  "The Olympic Conclave."
   All the women, including Tahereh shared wistful smiles.
   "It was hardly sport," said Veronica.
   "And yet a pleasure all its own," said Kalahari.
   Kara took a breath and the stern leader came out as she recounted the
story.  "My chevaliers like to play their games," she gave a brief look to
Maxine, "the one you know well.  During Antasia's gathering, we decided to
play a game of our own.  The members at the conclave were assigned a merit,
either for style, strength, intelligence, chastity, piety, or creativity.
For the duration of the gathering, we collected points based on these
merits."
   Antasia beamed.  "I earned the title Lady of Chastity."
   Maxine cocked her head to the side.
   "Antasia," Kara explained, "can turn the head of any man claiming to
have a vow of chastity or otherwise loyal to another."
   Antasia hissed.  "I would not go that far.  I am not like her."
   "No one is saying that." Kara's voice also dropped to a whisper.  "It
was a base pursuit, but in the spirit of the gathering, it was one to
remember."
   "Genevieve received the Lady of Knowledge merit." Tahereh added.
   All their heads bowed for a moment.  Maxine recalled Alexander speaking
her name during the remembrance of the dead meeting.  It was a long list of
names.  Several tables had been assembled with boxes, momenta, and letters
written by the daiva that had known them.  Maxine spent the greatest amount
of time looking at the photo wall.  So many daiva taken by the recent wars,
whole houses leveled by bombing raids.
   "How did she pass?" Maxine asked.
   "Pairing," Tahereh answered.  "It is not as easy as Alexander makes it
look, nor you, Kara."
   "It is never as easy decision." Kara turned to Maxine.  "You are young,
very young, and yet we all know the circumstance of your birth.  Like a
great calamity, your story is on the lips of all gathered.  I know I failed
you as a babe and again as a girl, but let me give you this piece of
advice. Daiva are long lived, but we are not immortal.  The ceremony this
morning attests to that.  The closest all of us come to knowing death is in
the pairing of another."
   Veronica made a hissing noise and stood.  She left the room, but
returned just as quickly with Felicia, Dion, Max, and two other daiva
Maxine had not yet met.  Veronica put a finger to her lips then bid Kara to
continue.
   Kara nodded to the them and waited until they were seated.  "I was
speaking of death, a theme at this early hour.  Pairing brings us close to
that death.  Pairing is often a fatal undertaking.  Three kinds of people
attempt it: the ignorant, the foolish of heart, and the foolish of pride.
After hearing my words, you will only be one of the two.  Before you decide
to become a mater, you must ask yourself, 'Am I willing to die?  Am I
willing to kill this person?  Do I want to spend forever connected to this
person?'"
   Two others leaned in the doorway.
   "Wait," said Maxine, "willing to kill the person you're pairing with? 
Why?"
   "Because a mater is responsible for her progeny.  The bond of mater to
progeny is greater than that of mother and child, husband and wife,
siblings," she looked between Max and Maxine.  "Perhaps like that of twins,
but still more.  No matter what connection you think you share, it is
nothing like this.  There is no word of any language that can prepare you.
Even as a progeny, you only know half the experience.  The process is
painful, longer than any birth.  Exceptions to the sole, successful daiva
birth, which I hear was more than the inquisition could dream of.
   "Some of us have the good fortune to have one or even several progeny,
but many more die on the first attempt.  Be careful and choose to extend
the gift at the risk of your own existence and theirs."
   Antasia picked up where Kara left off.  "And afterward," she looked at
Maxine.  "You asked about willingness to kill the person you were willing
to die to pair with.  Not all qua are beneficial."
   "What could a bad one be?" asked Dion.
   "Sensitive hearing," said Felicia.
   "And sight," said Tahereh.
   "Elizabeth aged," Kalahari said.
   Eyes briefly turned to Maxine and Max.
   "She tried to reverse the process by soaking in fetal blood.  It was a
popular ingredient in restorative masks in that age.  The Maker of Law took
swift care of that one and her mater."
   Mention of Kessi put a damper on the room.  All of the younger daiva
looked from their somber faces with curiosity, but no one spoke to answer
it.
   ***
   Yeasmine left the room where they spoke of the pain of pairing.  Her
pairing with Dante was impossible, and by all accounts she should have
died, but the spark of life in her womb did not allow it.  Those moments
when she thought her breath would be her last, she took another and
another.
   Her ears led her to the music room.  Rico and Antonio were sitting on
either side of a young woman on a piano bench.  She looked flattered by the
attention, glowing under it as they each played one part of a song.
   Rico pointed Yeasmine out to Antonio.
   She waved back to them.
   They turned their attention back to the woman between them as if she
disappeared.
   Yeasmine didn't turn around.  She didn't have to.  "Hello, Kevin."
   "I'm glad you're doing better."
   "What you know about it?"
   He put his arm around her waist and walked with her down the hall.  "The
same way you have probably imagined your progeny over the years, his well
being, his spiritual state.  These are not idle fantasies of the mind.  I
am connected to you at all times, and lately, that connection has been
pleasant."
   "Yes, guess you're right.  I'm better." They ended the walk on the
porch. Tiara and Setamious looked to be engaged in an unpleasant
discussion. Though she always felt this way about Dante, it was different
with her own children.  "I never know for sure how they are doing.  How
is," she glanced to him.  "How are things?"
   Kevin hummed.  "Oh, quite like you, my love: brilliant, gorgeous,
emotionally raw, but a lot like me too: deceptive, calculating,
manipulative." He ended on a solemn note.
   "That sounds terrifying."
   He smiled and bent to kiss her on the cheek.  "Thank you giving me such
terror."
   Tiara grimaced and walked away from Setamious.  "Some nerve you have.  I
have not forgotten that mess you caused it Vigilo.  I will not be a part of
your madness."
   Setamious followed her.  "I apologize for that profusely, but this is a
matter of great urgency."
   Tiara shook her head.  "I could not even if I wanted - which I do not. I
no longer possess a functioning laboratory."
   "I am willing to travel to wherever--"
   "They are gone, an act of the gods, that caused me to dismantle the
others." Tiara cast a wary look to Kevin and Yeasmine.  "It was for the
best.  My instruments were dated and I must refresh my learning yet again."
   "You stay clear of him," Kevin whispered to Yeasmine.
   "I plan to.  The warning is a familiar one."
   ***
   Kara did not like the look on the face of her mater.  His ice blue eyes
were hard and reserved.
   "I do not wish this to wait until the end of the conclave," Alexander
pulled a chair out for her.
   She took her seat and waited.
   "You have eight daiva in residence."
   "Yes, mater.  I apologize.  I assure you the number will go down. 
Tahereh and Kamran will leave shortly after the conclave."
   "You have your warning.  I do not want to see you in dire
circumstances."
   "Thank you, mater.  The child is the only thing dire about my
circumstance."
   "Yes, that brings us to the other matter.  Have you had words with
Yeasmine?"
   "This is the first I've seen her in years.  We spoke briefly after her
pairing, and I had several detailed words with my progeny.  I assure you,
they were unaware of her tender age until it was too late.  As for the
event, she was not yet a true daiva while she carried.  It seems she
continued in the twilight of pairing while carrying the children."
   "Without the effects?"
   "With the worse of them: pain, weakness.  The process did not complete
until their birth.  Her children, the girl, you've seen them."
   He nodded.  "How did your experiments fair?"
   Kara shook her head.  "She never conceived.  They each possess and act
out the procreation urge with the vigor of rodents, but I have not
witnessed an ability to bear young.  It seems this was truly a singular
miracle that cannot be repeated."
   Alexander sighed as if with relief and some of the kindness and warmth
seeped back into his features.  "This news will put many at ease."
   "Who asks after her?"
   "Ambrose."
   Kara felt a wave of nausea pass though her.  She swallowed the bile that
rose to the back of her throat.  Ambrose existed as a shadow in their
lives. His qua gave him the uncanny ability to pass information into their
minds, locate them.  Unseen, unknown to most daiva, but through him, his
progeny could reach out and end any of their lives.
   "Precisely.  The child daiva has eyes across the globe turned toward our
shores, but for the miracle, your progeny would be under orders to kill
her. I know not if Ambrose has a singular or collective interest in the
matter.  You have no reason to worry.  Settle your house and all will be as
it should."
   Kara nodded stiffly.
   "Otherwise, how have you been?"
   "I am ready to move.  The political mood has turned foul.  Laws forbid
the twins to take residence in my house as they do, and Max refuses to
claim other citizenship.  They are such a contradiction.  I pass Maxine off
as a foreigner and they believe it, because, how else does one explain her?
I have seen perhaps two people like them in my life, both on account of
traveling carnivals and my encounters with natives."
   "You have taken on the heavy responsibility with great results, but I
also fear for your safety.  If you require help for your move, I will be
your there at a moment's notice."
   -_ Loyalties _The conversation from yesterday still played through
Antasia's mind.  In her long life, she had served as a priestess, consort,
sacred virgin, and unholy concubine to appetites as varied as fish in the
sea.  She did miss the adventure of a pleasure house, winning over a man
with her gifts and her service.
   "Are you alone?" Antasia surveyed Setamious' room.  She had witnessed
Felicia stalk into the woods after Max.  If the man's reputation remained
constant, Felicia would not return for some time.
   "As you so strongly reminded me, I cannot treat her as my progeny.  Her
whereabouts are her own."
   "I inquire as to your condition, Setamious, not hers."
   "I am free to entertain you." He indicated a place for her to sit.
   She remained standing.  "They will play music soon in the lower rooms."
   "You wish to dance?"
   "Yes."
   "The pleasure would be mine, but Felicia is unpredictable in nature."
   "Felicia," Antasia restrained her mirth, let her voice turn hard, "has
no ground to act against me.  I can no more come between the two of you
than you could part me from Alexander."
   "I daresay your bond to him is primal."
   "It is one of choice.  Do you recall our last gathering?"
   "I think of it often in times such as these." His gray eyes sped
anxiously over her.
   "I do not want to part you from your charge or incur her wrath." Antasia
walked over to him, towered over his sitting frame.  "Your needs are
intimate to me.  I can take you further than we traveled last time we met
on this road.  I will take you from your troubles, cause you weep my name."
   "Don't make promises you can't keep." His voice was barely above a
whisper, but he was not cowed, not yet.
   "It will require hard work on your part.  When I finally allow you
inside me, little one, you will not pull out dissatisfied." She bent at the
waist and kissed him on his neck, then pressed his face to her bosom.
   He drew a deep breath and seemed to shrink even further under her.
   Antasia smiled.  Little had changed between them.  When she was finished
all his pent up rage and hatred would be vented.  His soul would find quiet
for a time, perhaps long enough to buy the girl enough time to escape.
   Taming a dragon such as him was not for the intrepid.  She combed her
fingers into his hair.  No amount of magic could replace experience and
hard work.
   "First, we will dance."
   ***
   Dante scanned the wooded area as they hiked up the path.  "Are you sure
you want to do this?"
   "It was my idea, wasn't it?" Yeasmine snapped back.  She was less
enthusiastic now, but she wasn't going to let him know that.
   They crested the hill beside the clearing.  Three daiva men, two normal
women.  Blankets spread on the grass, tents near the tree-line.  The gentle
roar of the waterfall drowned out distant sound.
   The women shared a joint between them on the blanket.  The men rose to
green them.
   "Good evening.  My name is Terrance," the rustic daiva male approached
and bowed slightly.  He gestured to the sandy-haired male beside him. 
"This is Nicolas." The other man had a shrew face, "and Thorsten.  Snowbird
and Meghan are our guests.  Gentlemen, this exotic wonder of the world
calls herself Yeasmine.  We've all met her progeny, Dante."
   "I haven't seen either of you at the conclave," said Dante.
   Nicolas shrugged.  "We receive the invitation, but we don't have to be
present for roll call." His eyes never left Yeasmine.
   Dante looked to Yeasmine.  She had only told him they would be meeting a
daiva.  She did not say how many or why.
   Terrance laughed.  "I know your mater's story.  Hard not to hear at
least a rumor.  I issued her a challenge: have fun with daiva her own age.
Thorsten has a crate to store any clothing.  We're going to get drink,
smoke, dance, and sing."
   Dante chuckled and bobbed his head.  "Look at you, miss.  Making
friends."
   Yeasmine winked.  "Can't take all the credit."
   Thorsten signaled her closer as the others took Dante to meet the women
in person.  "I hear you like a good moonlit swim?"
   "How you know?"
   "I hear." His low voice rumbled.  "The voices are in my head."
   She smirked and headed toward the others with him.  "Got a place for my
clothes?"
   He escorted her to the crate.  Yeasmine dressed down to her night shorts
and a tank.  The others followed her lead, laughing and giggling.
   Snowbird's large eyes got larger as she took in the tableau of
Yeasmine's skin.  The words she spoke were beyond Yeasmine's comprehension.
   Terrance interpreted, "She says you are many-spirit."
   "I like that." She looked around.  "What if someone sees us?"
   "Do not think I am enough to protect you?" Thorsten's voice was thick
with a heavy, guttural accent.
   Nicholas did not bother speaking in a language she could understand as
he looked her naked body over.  His fingers brushed the spots where her
skin pigment changed.
   They traded songs and stories, made up songs to drum and flute
accompaniment.  They joked and laughed in a shift of languages, some she
understood, others only barely.
   They switched to mimicking animal sounds.  Nicholas and Thorsten mocked
wolves as they howled.  Nicolas looked at her with a wink.  Yeasmine didn't
know anything about wolves, but she could do a coyote call.  She lifted her
head to the darkening sky and did one.
   They laughed and applauded.
   At sunset they stripped naked and went to the waterfall.  Yeasmine's
braids turned heavy as it soaked in the water.  She waded in the center
while the others swam around her.
   "Did you warn them?" Dante whispered as he came up behind her.
   "I don't think I need to," she turned and kissed him.
   They swam and played tag in the water for an hour before running back to
the tent.  Yeasmine was keenly aware of their eyes on her, but in a way
that made her feel invigorated.  This was a life she could grow used to.
   ***
   Felicia and Max lay on the grass looking up at the small waterfall.  The
sun hit the spray and caused a large rainbow to form in the droplets.  They
had hiked into the woods for half an hour to reach this spot.
   "Were you so bookish before meeting him?"
   Felicia shook her head.  "It's a recent love, easy to forget your
surroundings in a book."
   "The information helps too."
   "Have you always loved books?"
   "I have.  What about the woman you were before?"
   "That doesn't matter."
   "Because you enjoy being a cloistered silverfish?"
   She rolled her eyes.  "I adapt.  The untethered party girl who spent her
nights with food, drink, and friends will never return."
   Max sat up and looked toward the canopy.
   She followed his gaze.  "What are you looking for?"
   "A good spot.  I have something I want to show you." He stood and waved
for her to follow.
   They climbed the tree and found a tangle of large branches to rest and
overlook the land.  Max pointed to a campsite in a clearing across the
creek.  The waterfall drowned out the sound of singing and laughing.  A
diverse group, various ages and cultures.
   "Who are they?"
   "Mostly daiva."
   She frowned.  "I haven't seen them."
   "More than a few choose to only visit or stay outside the location with
people of their choosing."
   "That's not allowed."
   He nodded.  "It is tolerated.  If they break the law or the truce, they
meet the same fate, and yet, they choose to party over worry."
   "Must be nice."
   "That's the life I want for myself.  See the black woman?"
   "Can't miss her.  Gorgeous.  Daiva?"
   "My mother."
   "For true?"
   "Whole truth.  She adapted when she had to.  We are alike, my family and
you.  We are daiva and something else."
   "I dream about getting away from them, away from their rules.  Those
laws are not for me."
   "I plan for it."
   "How you plan to get away with it?"
   "With you."
   She chuckled.  "I thought I would have to convince you."
   Max shook his head.  "Our needs are quite mutual."
   "I have some schematics that could use a learned eye.  There must be
other evolved souls that walk this earth.  Those are my people.  I want my
dreams and your plans to find a union."
   Squirrels scurried jumped the tree limbs across from them.
   She leaned over and traced her fingernail over his shoulder.  "Sealed
with a kiss?"
   He shifted to face her.  "And an agreement of fair exchange."
   Felicia leaned forward with a grin and kissed him.  She met no
resistance as she pulled on the fount of his vitae.  As she fed from him,
an equal amount flowed from her into him.
   She pulled back short of breath and took hold of the nearest branch to
steady herself.  Her body rocked and squirmed as if caught in an orgasm.
   Several moments later, Felicia blinked her eyes open and stared at Max.
"You did not boast about your power."
   "Neither have you.  Clever, as a daiva you mask the energy you drain as
a witch."
   "Sorceress." She chuckled and rolled her shoulders.  "You are right.  I
am the savage wolf among the sheep."
   "Fucking the wolf hunter."
   Felicia chuckled, and the sound blossomed into a full laugh.  "What does
that make you?"
   "Different."
   "No kidding.  I can't take what I crave for fear of discovery, but you
do with impunity."
   "Does Setamious know?  He's asked Maxine and me about it several times."
   "Yes, but he can do nothing without your admission.  He attempted to
pair with me, but all he did was complete a working.  Daiva cannot
unwillingly pull vitae from another."
   "So they say."
   She pointed to the clearing.  "Are we not invited to their party?"
   Max shook his head.  "I'd rather upset some elders tonight."
   Felicia filled the air with throaty laughter.
   They descended the tree and headed back to the cabin.
   "If I should desire anything more physical?"
   "As much as you can handle."
   Max stared at the path just ahead.  "Did you see her?"
   "And your need." She stood in front of him and pulled him into a hug. 
"Bury your worries, Pharmaxious, and I will bury mine.  Oh," she kissed
him. "To be loved by you."
   He smiled and blinked the tears away.
   ***
   Late in the evening, most of the daiva in the cabin had dressed down to
their gowns and reclined in the lounge.  They positioned themselves on
blankets, soft pillows, and low benches under soft candlelight.  Small
pockets of conversation covered the room, but most of it hushed as
Setamious and Maxine entered a heated discussion.
   "No," said Setamious.  "Greek gods were nothing more than a myth, an
allegory to explain circumstances beyond our control.  Many of us take up
religion, some are foolish enough to think we were born of gods.  Our
actions may have passed in normal history and been attributed to those
gods. We are not gods, young lady.  We are not the vampire, nor demons, nor
angels.  We are human beings that do not succumb to disease or
deterioration, at the cost of normals."
   "I can't believe you're still preaching that nonsense." Veronica rolled
her eyes.
   Max leaned closer to Kevin.  "I haven't had the chance to thank you."
   "You haven't had to." Kevin smirked.  "Superb choice."
   "She's right." Jacinda had skin like milk and a mass of blond hair down
her back.  She passed the smoking pipe to the person beside her.  "We have
been reborn to live off others.  We are wraiths, demons, or monsters, but
to suggest we are anything like gods is pure hubris." She cast a sullen eye
to Maxine.  "Gods are revered, and yet knowledge of daiva only bring fear
and death.  We are monsters."
   "Oh yeah?" Veronica snorted.  "Ask Jehova about reverence."
   "Was he real?" Maxine practically bounced on her pillow.  Her breast
threatened to break free of her gown.
   "None of us were near that cesspool of a city.  It never ceases to amaze
me what cultures were deemed worthy of remembrance while others fade into
the void." Antasia looked to Alexander.  "Far better to have mentioned
Dek--" She snapped her jaw shut and rubbed the spot where Kalahari pinched
her.
   "What?" Max asked.  "I thought we could speak freely?"
   "Dead languages, cities, and cultures are dead.  If normal history loses
all record of these things, then we cease to speak of it."
   Antasia buried her hands in her hair.  He face turned red with either
frustration, sadness, or rage.
   "Why does it have to be dead to us?"
   Felicia walked into the room dressed in a sheer, burgundy gown that
brushed the tops of her thighs.  Her dark nipples were plainly visible, as
was the dark triangle at the apex of her thighs.  Her unbound hair hung in
a wide mass of thick curls.
   Conversation paused, even eyes that had been glued to Maxine's obscenity
of a body, turned to look at her: thin, petite, but shapely.
   Setamious cleared his throat as he moved aside, making room for her to
sit.  Otherwise, he looked to be preparing his rebuttal lecture.
   She crossed the room, passing him and many others until she settled at
Max's side.  She sat at the bend of his waist and folded her legs under
her.
   "Felicia," Setamious hissed.  "Get over here."
   "No." She leaned on Max and turned to Maxine.  "It has to be dead
because we can't afford to be forgetful when we talk with others.  We can't
invite questions as to how we gained our knowledge.  That is why many of
the elders keep to shadow.  You were there.  You know how hard it can be to
recall the day or season, much less the era."
   "Then why not just make the record ourselves?"
   "Records can be destroyed," said Alexander.  "Stories passed by word of
mouth have the longest life."
   "Long lives are twisted until they are ugly, misshapen ghosts." Jacinda
said.  "Our fables are testament to this."
   "But fables, and the lessons they teach, have to change to stay alive."
Max asked.  "Isn't that how they get retold?"
   Tiara hummed.  "This is true."
   "Then tell the story of these forgotten lands as fiction, children's
tales."
   Setamious had not ceased in fuming though the room carried the
conversation without him.  "Felicia."
   Felicia huffed.  "Go sit with Antasia if you have such a great need of
company."
   "What causes you so say such harsh words?"
   "Don't bother.  I'm happy for you." She took a breath.  "It makes what
I'm about to say less difficult."
   The room went silent.
   "Apologies." Setamious stood.  "We should excuse ourselves."
   "You can excuse yourself when I am finished.  You are not my mater.  I
allowed you to act as such because I was an orphan, but that stops."
   "Felicia, I love you.  You are my heart and soul.  The reasons why I
care for you are plain.  Why would you turn so cruel?"
   Her laugh started as a soft chuckle, but grew into a full bellied laugh.
"Oh, Setamious.  You speak of cruelty with such casual grace.  My gratitude
for how you have helped me runs deep, but I have had my fill of your help
and your guidance.  My tolerance for your abuse and torture has also
reached its end.  I am moving on."
   "Has the barnacle found another ship?  Are you sure it will carry you
far enough away?"
   Maxine made a high pitched squeal.  "Yes!" She bounced on her pillow and
gave Max a thumb's up.
   Setamious glared at Maxine.  "It is good that you want to connect with
your own.  I would happily--"
   "What I do from now on, I do without you, Setamious."
   "That is not a good idea and we both know why.  You require monitoring.
I should not have to warn you--"
   "No." Her sharp retort had a hard, husky edge to it.  "You should not."
   His mouth hung open, but he did not finish the sentence.  He huffed and
bowed his head.  Whispers rose around the room.
   "Since we must talk in front of others," he looked at the surrounding
daiva, "this woman is a charlatan and liar.  She fooled me into giving her
the secrets of a powerful witch.  I cannot undo that mistake, but I can
assure she does not misuse that knowledge."
   She giggled, but she wasn't looking at Setamious her eyes were turned to
the ceiling.  "If only I could be content to allow that lie to bring you
comfort.  My name," she looked at him then the others.  "I was born Felicia
Chellary Metoyer.  The only person who played you for a fool, Setamious,
was called Silurie.  Our time together is over.  Don't you worry about my
secrets, I will use them as I see fit, but I will not subject myself to
your confinement a day longer."
   Setamious shook his head.  "You are a liar and a fraud, swamp witch."
   Felicia rose to her knees and spoke in a language foreign to all but a
few in attendance.  As she spoke she gestured with her arms and face.  The
more she said, the closer Setamious looked as if he were going to pass out.
   He stepped backwards until he met the sideboard.
   Felicia finished and looked at Maxine.  "Now that is a dead language."
   "You!" Setamious turned to Alexander.  Both men looked ill.  "She must
face punishment for blatantly disregarding the rules."
   Alexander shook his head.  "No, in this you are wrong.  You called her
all manner of disparaging names before us at a gathering.  How else was she
to defend her honor?  You would have preferred a show of that woman's
ability?  Calling her sins into question would mean that you must answer
for your own.  You heard what she said as well as I.  Now, sit and be among
your kin or excuse yourself."
   "What did you say?" Maxine looked around, then at Max.  "What did she
say?"
   Felicia settled in front of Max and rested her legs over his. 
"Translation is hard, but the gist is easy.  I am Felicia.  I was once
Silurie.  I made sure he could never refute it.  I don't like the rule
about dead languages at gatherings or dead cities.  We are dead to normals.
Our true selves are reduced to ash and drift as fog.  Antasia, tell me
about this place." She rolled onto her belly.  "Let it live as we do, in
secret and shadow."
   Antasia turned a fretful eye to her mater.
   Alexander closed his eyes a moment then nodded.  "He says the risk you
take is your own."
   Antasia smiled and turned to Felicia.  "We will speak of it later." She
looked at Maxine.  "I will tell you both."
   ***
   "What if vampires are real though?" Dion looked around the room.  "Isn't
there energy in blood?"
   Tiara shook her head.  "These are spiritual beliefs born from the nature
of life itself.  Without the flow of blood, the body ceases to function,
but it is not the blood that grants life.  It is the spirit itself.  This,
however, cannot be seen by all, blood can."
   "Warriors, in some cultures," said Kara, "would eat the flesh, believing
it to contain that spirit, the qualities of the person slain.  It is an
easy thing to believe, but there is no true sustenance from it."
   "Not just warriors," said Antonio.  "I have traveled to some of these
locations where entire peoples believe in the ritual ingestion of the
body."
   "Ritual," said Tiara, "as in, spiritual, symbolic.  What daiva need is
not a symbol, but actual nourishment, replenishment of the soul."
   "Okay," Dion looked around the room again, "but have any of you tried
it?"
   If anyone had, no one spoke up to answer.
   "Don't." Kara warned.
   Max ran through the list of people in the room, those in attendance and
those elsewhere in the building.  He turned to Alexander while their talk
of blood drinking continued.  "You said Ambrose is here?  He is the one
that invited us?  I haven't seen him yet."
   "He is most certainly here, but he remains confined to his room."
   "Enjoying his guest." Kalahari chuckled then looked away suddenly.
   "Who are his progeny?" Maxine asked.
   A hush fell over the room as all side conversation stopped.
   "Most of his progeny are dead," said Alexander.
   "How many living?"
   Antasia held up a single finger.
   "Well, who is he?  Is he here?"
   Maxine was eager to get her answer, but Max surveyed the room.  The line
of conversation made them uncomfortable and there was only one daiva in the
world that put this fear into so great a number.
   "She," Alexander whispered.
   "Kessi."
   All heads turned toward Veronica.
   "Keep the name off your lips!" Alexander snapped.
   Maxine's hair fanned out as she head whipped back and forth.  "Have I
met her?"
   Antonio laughed, but it was dry and devoid of mirth.  "Maybe you have;
maybe you haven't.  Break the law and you will become intimate with
justice."
   That's when the final piece fell in line for Max.  The hag was Kessi.
   "Enough talk of that cunt." Kara flung a stream of curses in Veronica's
direction.
   Veronica rolled her eyes and shrugged.
   Kara stood and left the room.
   "She can hear when her name is called?" Maxine said.
   "Like any great evil, its name is the only summoning required," Antasia
stood along with two others and left the room.
   Maxine turned to Max.  <They are afraid of her.  Like, really, really
afraid.>
   <She kills those who are more powerful, who threaten her.  This has
nothing to do with laws.> Max included Felicia in his next thought.  <She
is the mater of Setamious and Alexander.>
   <Whoa, whoa, whoa!> Maxine crawled over to them and they sat in a tight
circle.  <So, you mean this Ambrose person is older than them?  I mean,
he's her mater.  That's ancient!  When was he born?  Who is his mater?>
   Felicia grinned.  <Who is he with then?  Who is his guest?>
   Max cleared his throat.  Felicia and Maxine looked over their shoulders.
The remaining daiva were staring at them.  He was sure they didn't know
what they were talking about, only that they understand that they were
communicating without the aid of spoken word.
   <Maybe they'll think it's because we're colored,> said Maxine.  <Freaks
no matter where we go.  The darker the skin, the more powerful the qua!>
   The three of them burst into laughter.
   ***
   Maxine entered Max's room while he was packing.  "I'm so glad you found
a daiva to be with."
   "It isn't like that, but it's nice to have your blessing."
   "Speaking of her question last night.  The guest?  Should we say
something?"
   Max put his finger to his lips.  <Leave her be.>
   She nodded.  "What are you going to do?"
   "I have some people I need to track down, and Felicia and I have
planning to do.  She is going to be with me."
   Maxine huffed.  "I mean about," she pointed toward the third floor.
   "Nothing." Max shouldered her bag.  "Don't go looking.  Are you leaving
with me or waiting until your curiosity gets you killed?"
   Maxine's eyes widened.  "Are you serious?  My bags are downstairs!"
   -_ Rumors _-
   Rumors spread quick through her dwindling community.  Lately, such news
spread faster than planes, vessels, or vehicles could carry the news
bearers.  These days, all it took was a phone call or letter.
   The building appeared to be no different than a grand house.  A ground
floor, upper, and attic.  Small windows near the back indicated a
lit-subfloor.  The front of the house, with its wide wrap-around porch
faced the coast.  Instead of the grand, sprawling lawns typical of other
homes, this one was compact.  Flowers, greenery, shrubs, trees, nestled
benches, walkways, and cozy patches of grass.
   Behind the house, a thick stand of trees.
   The front distracted her - so many herbs and flowers.  One could almost
believe they had grown wild this way, but Daphne knew better.  Their
gardener had a keen mastery.  The tips of vines had only just begun their
climb to the porch.
   The front doors were open, only a screen door.  She climbed the steps.
One side of the porch had a cluster of smaller chairs, the other, folded
chairs lay against the side, perfect for sunning.
   She looked through the screen.
   "Come on in." The man walked over to the radio and turned down the
volume.
   She smiled and pulled open the screen door.  "My name is Diana."
   "Daphne?" He arched a single brow.
   This man had been mentioned in the rumors.  Dark skin, light eyes, a
sexual magnetism that all recognized.  He could read a person, see into
their soul.  That he was the first person she met put a flutter in her
belly.  If this was the limit of her experience, she would know more than
most.  "I prefer Diana in mixed company, but yes, Daphne."
   "How may I help you?"
   "I've heard that you operate a safe house?"
   Down the hall, people holding a conversation.
   "Not quite.  This our home.  We rent out some of its rooms - a day at
minimum, a year at most.  Which would you like?"
   She grinned, mostly baffled, and for a moment unsure of what language
she was supposed to speak.  She hadn't meant to stay at all, and who did he
mean by we?  "By the month?"
   "Four weeks?"
   "Yes." Daphne slung off her pack and dug for her pouch.
   "Here are our house rules.  You are welcome to leave any time you wish.
In four weeks, you will be charged by the week if you wish to remain."
   "If I can't pay?" Daphne frowned.
   "We accept many forms of payment."
   Daphne opened the booklet while he entered her information.
   If you want it cleaner, clean it.  If you want it organized, organize
it. If you want an action taken, take it on.  If you want it to be known,
say it.  All other guests have this same charge, Together we make this our
own.
   Interesting.  She folded the placard and stuffed it into her purse.
   "Enjoy your stay.  This is your vault key.  Insert the key, count to
ten. Anything you store in your vault will be secure until your checkout
date."
   She grinned, on the verge of laughing at a joke she did not grasp.  The
'key' was a hunk of metal, no real shape, beyond the round end with a hole
in it.  "And you are?"
   "Pharmaxious Austin.  You're welcome to call me Max.  Daiva?"
   Daphne froze in place.  The rumors were more true than he realized.  He
saw that?  What else?
   He chuckled.  "How did you hear about my place?"
   "Whispers," she said.  "Others have passed by.  Instead of gawking at
you like tragic theater, I thought to see for myself, to issue a warning,
as a curtsey."
   "Thoughtful of you, but why?" He stepped around the desk and led her to
a room on the ground floor.
   "I wish someone had warned me.  I am alone in this world.  Many of my
closest companions were killed.  If this place is what the rumors say, it
breaks the law."
   "This is your side of the room." He pointed to the left.  "You share a
toilet with the next room over.  The bath is at the end of the hall."
   He leaned against the wall as she explored the space.  A toilet and
basin, no bath.  No locks, but there was a switch of some sort.  The bed
was a generous size.  She smoothed her hand over the bedding.
   He said, "Why are you alone?"
   "My kind is of a different bloodline.  Someone didn't like that."
Thoughts of her past caused her hair to stand on end.  Yes, she had been
the most bold in flaunting her new abilities.  She loved her new powers. 
And why not?  That she embraced her power is why she lived while the others
died.  "A hunter, filled with hatred, came after us.  Where the hunter
fails, the hag succeeds.  Few are powerful enough to stop them.  This is my
warning."
   "The hunter is?"
   "Setamious.  I will not speak of the hag, so don't ask."
   "Setamious and his cunt mater?  What am I missing in here?" A dark
skinned woman with a large mass of dark hair entered her room carrying a
pile of linen and towels.  "We keep these in the storage room.  It's also
on the first floor.  I'll show you later." She set the pile down on her bed
and straightened.
   Given the topic of conversation, Daphne found the woman's resemblance
uncanny.  She backed toward Max.
   The red-eyed witch laughed and nodded to Max.  "Nice to meet you,
Daphne. My name is Felicia." She winked and pointed to Max.  "I'll be
downstairs."
   "When I'm done, I'll help with the cables."
   "I'll be down there." Felicia called back as she went down the stairs.
   Daphne stood near her bag.  "If you are anything like that woman, this
is the worse place on this planet.  She is the one who taught the hunter,
who enraged the hag.  She is an enemy to us."
   "She's my friend, and she is an ally.  I know her history."
   "Truly?"
   He leaned forward, stooped down, and kissed Daphne's cheek.  "Stay a
month.  That's nothing, right?"
   Nothing but time for the hunter and his hag to find her.  What if this
was a trap?  No, she had seen such things before, and they were not so ...
inviting?
   ***
   "How's it going?" Max leaned against the upstairs wall opposite Maxine.
   "She's brought in some interesting business." She shrugged.  "Her beau,
Jack, has been a big help.  Can't make her the offer without giving it to
him."
   "You think so?  They are not married."
   "They don't have to be.  I like them both.  He's," She smirked and shook
her head.
   "Good looking, male, friendly?" Max returned her smile.
   "Responsible, dedicated, good for business."
   Bonnie and Jack has been guests with them early.  They were not
backpackers, foreigners, travelers, or lonely long-distance drivers.  Born
in the large metropolis thirty minutes away, they were locals, familiar
with the area.  The out of the way hostel toward the coast gained a
reputation as a lover's paradise.
   "From now on, every guest must have a bed, even if it is shared.  I'm
surprised the floor didn't give way."
   "That party got out of hand.  Didn't expect that bus to pull out here."
Maxine chuckled.  "Promise."
   "This is our home and our business.  Maintain the dignity of both."
   "No more than two visitors per guest?"
   "Use your better judgement."
   "I'll give them the good news." Maxine walked over and pecked him on the
cheek.  Her other hand rest on his shoulder.  "How have you been?"
   "I am working." He'd been too busy.  The reality of his undertaking
consumed him every hour of the day.  There was so much he neglected to
learn.
   Bonnie and Jack would be granted free residence in returned for their
dedication and help toward making their dream a reality.
   Maxine took a brief sigh and went downstairs.
   ***
   Felicia walked through the rows in the herb garden.  The rows of
plantings were built upon shelves.  They shifted and turned to allow for
cascading light.
   Shuffling a few rows ahead.
   She closed her eyes and took a breath.  A person, daiva.  "Looking for
something in particular."
   "No." Small voice, light.  Ah, the little woman she shared the asshole
with.  "Amazed.  These are your plantings?"
   "Yes, thank you."
   This section of shelves had been arranged to form a nook with a stone
bench.  Felicia sat and pat the other side.  She looked around, smelling
basil and soil, a breeze carried mint.  It was like sitting in library of
greenery.
   Daphne sat beside her.  "I am in awe of your accomplishments."
   "Thanks.  Easy when you've got nothing but time and silence.  Leaves a
lot of room for thinking."
   "He did the locking away thing?  Warn you what would happen if you
didn't behave?"
   "Known for that is he?" Felicia chuckled and shook her head.
   "I bet he was under your heel the whole time."
   She hummed.  "Yes, a heel that held the plunger of a land mine."
   "He lives?"
   She nodded.
   "Then you have let go of the plunger."
   "Someone else stepped on it for me.  I know he's going to come here. 
He's due, whether he knows of you or not.  This is not a place of fear. 
You are safe." Felicia took her hand.  "The Austins and I, we're creating
something different here."
   "I will give this a try."
   ***
   Dempsey had been on the road most of his life.  His chops with the
saxophone meant that he traveled from party to hotel to bus, and mixed with
people from all walks of life.
   He woke up on a small, but comfortable bed.  Across from him, another
bed, also filled.  His sax lay in its case, his clothing folded on top of
it.
   Last thing he remembered was being moved.  A soft voice, 'let's get you
to your bed.'
   He was a guest, as were the others.  That sense of being taken care of,
not by staff or the law, remained with him.
   And so, whenever he was in the city, he booked his room back home.
   He was practicing and performing, a soft melody that drew a modest
audience.  Familiar faces smiled at him.  Maxine and her friend Diana
smiled and devoured him with their eyes.  Maxine blew him a kiss.
   When his song ended, he set his instrument down.  "Don't have to ask if
you remember me."
   Diana's laugh was soft and inviting.  "Oh, not you."
   "Would you retire to my room tonight?  Diana and I would like to play
you."
   He played the words back.  Had he been distracted?  "I'm sorry, did you
say 'play me'?"
   Diana nodded.  "Like you played your instrument?" Her fingers tapped
along his thigh.  "We want you to be our instrument."
   "A duo," Maxine added.
   Not that Dempsey had to be convinced, but what was the catch?
   "It won't cost you much," Maxine crawled toward him, lay her head on his
shoulder.  Dark ruddy hair curled between their bodies.
   Cost, he understood.  "How much?"
   "A quarter of the take from your next show."
   Not knowing when or how much that would be, another easy choice. 
"That's not going to be much."
   "A quarter, no matter how little the cake.  I think you'll enjoy us."
   It was another night of hard partying and gorgeous women.  His next show
landed him a record deal, complete with a signing bonus.
   One fourth was more than he'd made in years.
   He paid them, down to the dollar, mind reeling.  It had been Maxine's
recommendation that got him the gig.
   "I feel like I should pay more."
   She chuckled and kissed him on the cheek.  "You're a good man, Dempsey,
and a brilliant musician.  Enjoy it."
   ***
   Setamious had heard the whispers, with each variation of the rumor, he
suspected there lay a horrifying truth.  Then he heard it from a normal,
and he could not turn a blind eye any longer.
   Antasia and Alexander tried to talk him out of it.  Had she charmed them
as well?  His own brother?
   Indecent connections with normals.  If only that one were true, he could
still help her.  Running a safe house without the oversight of an elder
could also be rectified with his presence until he found a suitable
replacement.
   The flagrant use of magic?
   Firelight flickered in the windows.  Setamious peered closer, constantly
distracted by the cars, the snow covered statue.  A fountain with a thin
sheen of frosted water.
   He stepped onto the porch and a soft blue light lit his way to the door.
He didn't need light to see the couple at the far right end.  They made out
on a bench.  The amorous moment was full of energy.
   He looked up to see what bulb could imitate moonlight, but also reached
for the door.  It was more important he find Felicia.  He would talk with
the owner later.
   Knob in hand, he took a moment to focus his intention.  He had faced
battles greater than these and come out the victor.  Magic ran through this
place, the same energies that had been distracting and deterring him.
   A small room, another soft light.  Shoes, jackets, coats.  The other
side held tools, buckets, a basin, concrete floor with a drain.
   He approached another door.  The door slid along a horizontal track and
hushed back into place once he cleared the frame.  The springs were near
silent, no hiss of air.  Who engineered such a thing?
   Laughter from behind him.
   "Hi," the young daiva extended her hand.  "My name is Bonnie.  Welcome
to our home.  Are you here to visit someone or stay?"
   Our home?  Had he been mistaken?  Down the hall, a group cheered.  This
must have been a dining room, multiple tables, low benches, a four-stool
bar.  The effect of this place disoriented him.  What manner of illusion
was this?  Wasn't he in a house?
   "Who lives in this house with you?"
   "You can, for a night, a week, or by the month." She beamed at him.  "I
want to help you settle in.  Would you like me to give you a tour before
you decide?  Or are you more of a money first, fella?"
   Another breath.  She could not run this place.  No more than a few
months a daiva?  Such a young woman, even for normal years.
   "Yeah, I'll be right back." He knew that man's voice.  The force of his
energy had only grown, deepened.  How was he able to get the power of an
elder?  What dark magic granted him this?
   The mother, he was told not to look into her.  Why?  It was the most
logical decision.
   "What is going on here, Max?"
   Max laughed and nodded to him.  "Welcome.  Bonnie, he's my visitor."
   "If you decide to stay over a night, come say hello." She walked out the
room.
   Setamious spun on Max.  "What is going on here?  Who else do you have
here?  I will need their names."
   Max waved for him to follow.  "You are not the census.  Come see the
place."
   Setamious stared at the man's back in surprise.  Had he been so lax in
his discipline that none knew the ease he took lives of reckless daiva?
   Max Austin would not lead him around this flagrant distain for the law.
There was more than Felicia's magic in this place.  He got up and followed
only so that he could find it.
   He entered the great room with a gasp.  She was a mythical creature.  A
rarity that caused the soul to seize.  He had lost her twice.  What had he
done wrong?  How did he lose her?  Again.
   After all they suffered.
   "Felicia, there is a dangerous misuse of power here.  You invite a wrath
that will be complete in its destruction.  There is a reason our kind are
meant to follow rules.  Unmoored from the foundation of society--"
   Max yawned and stretched his arms wide to either side.  "I told Bonnie
he was my visitor, but he's sleeping in your bed."
   "As if." Felicia stood and rocked her body from side to side.  "Do you
want to sleep in my bed, Setamious?  You want to go back to what you know
best?"
   He frowned.  Could they not hear him?  Had he been trapped in some kind
of separate field?  "Where is she?  Short stature, Diana, Demeter,
Doreen--"
   "Daphne," they said in unison.
   "She is a rogue infection that spreads her sickness with impunity. 
Felicia, you've seen it.  Do not allow her to undo all of your teaching and
wisdom.  Let me deal with her.  I will spare you," he glanced to Max, "even
him.  I will explain that you are living out of shadow.  That will buy you
a generation, as you show evidence of age, perhaps more.  This ill-fated
hotel scheme.  Who puts a lodge twenty miles from the nearest city?"
   Felicia was smiling, but her eyes were on Max.  He turned to see the man
with a hand over his broad smile.
   A young man came upstairs followed by another much older.  They went
down the hall.  He stared, not because they were holding hands, but due to
their nudity.  A door opened revealing a stone room.
   "Bathing room."
   "Should have given him the tour."
   "He didn't want it."
   "That woman is not daiva, not in the way," he sighed.  "It is a
perversion of our gift."
   Felicia scowled at him.  He focused solely on her.  She wanted to
understand him after all.  "Who made you a fucking crusader?  Who cares
what she did?  Like you said, I know."
   "And yet she is here!" Setamious pointed at her.  "You should care.  You
are meant to protect others, not allow a dark force to gather power.  Her
crimes are universal.  She is the fodder of demons, and she owes hell her
existence."
   "Is he always like this?" Max asked.
   "He's extra special for me."
   "I love you, Felicia.  I love you.  I understand your need to assert
your independence.  You skirt with law - all laws.  This flagrant disregard
for social mores?  You invite suspicion?"
   "And we get it." Felicia shrugged.  "They come in.  We have a drink or
two, put on a film.  Or maybe they're more into the outside.  If they want
to stay we book a room.  You are missing the reason because you will not
see.  We live under our rule and our law.  Worse you can say is that we're
happy."
   "There's nothing here to hide.  Nothing and no one is being ruined."
   "You know what you are."
   "And you're the only person in this house freaking out about it."
Felicia and Max shared another laugh, but it didn't seem to be in time with
her words.
   Setamious felt heavy with dread.  Of course, she knew the woman's true
nature from the start.  They assumed they could use this power to transform
them all.  The situation was more dire than he feared.  His mater would
come swiftly to end them.
   What made the nymph think she could come out of hiding?  Had Felicia
pledged her protection?
   He had pledged his.  If Kessi came, he'd lose her, even her anger. 
"Heed my warning, love." Setamious turned and walked out the door.
   -_ Intentions _-
   Daphne kneeled with her knees touching Maxine's.  They were in her room
on the mat.
   Maxine had a husky, deep laugh like red wine and worn leather.  "Okay, I
feel it now."
   "Use this moment," Daphne whispered.  "Envision."
   The vision in Maxine's mind was of her brother's happiness.  Hers would
not be a question if his could be assured.  Though Max had been closer to
her, always there for her, she couldn't ignore his loss.  He couldn't leave
her.
   Family.
   Maxine's eyes blinked open as her climax faded.  She pulled the phallic
baton from between her legs and set it on the towel beside them.  "I think
Max wants a family."
   "Then we'll add that to the spell.  A family that will make him happy."
   "Yes!"
   Maxine's exuberance echoed in Diana's higher, softer laugh.  Everyone
here made her feel loved and appreciated.  Maxine had become an eager
student, curious about her abilities and how to use them.
   That her brother had been unsuccessful as her teacher was not
unsurprising.
   ***
   Felicia folded the linen while Daphne braided a tassel rope.  "How is
she doing?"
   "Much improved.  You were right.  She takes well to my methods.  More of
a prefect than oracle."
   "Good stuff, properly focused."
   "She yearns for closeness to her brother." Daphne picked up a strand
thin as cornsilk and worked it around one of the strands.
   "Then the focus is properly placed."
   "You have that much faith in him?"
   "I wouldn't call it faith."
   "I don't know him as you, but I do know my enemy.  He is drawn by great
power.  He sets the moth alight.  So many have died."
   "Not you." Felicia sighed.  "I was on the brink.  I saw a way to be here
on this day, speaking to you, and I took it.  Tell me you wouldn't!"
   Daphne shook her head.  When it came to living versus dying, she always
chose to live.
   "I am not as naive as legend would have you think.  I planted my seed in
something hard and dark to carry along the river souls.  This is the moment
where things change."
   "You name was tarnished.  Our kind suffered.  I may have lived, but
millions have suffered for it."
   "No one seeks out trash they have forgotten."
   "You claim to include others in your plans?"
   "No, darling." Felicia set her laundry aside and sat on the floor beside
her work area.  Daphne drug one of Maxine's hairs through a tincture and
wrapped it around the rope.  "You lend power to her working?"
   "She has a good focus, but is it weak.  I lend strength."
   "Not too much."
   Daphne's eyes opened wide.  "What?  Please, don't let me ruin this.  I
want to help her.  Early successes will bolster her."
   "I care more about the focus."
   "Which part should I augment?"
   "The time, past and future.  If she is a prefect then the immediacy will
please her.  Rapidity is a greater high than success."
   "Ah.  Immediacy is the downfall of many."
   "But not you, little sunshine." Felicia kissed her on the head.  "You
will do anything it takes to keep breathing?"
   "Yes."
   "I'm glad you found this place.  Maxine will flourish with your
instruction.  Teach her your way."
   "Don't forget what he is."
   "I'm not worried about him."
   ***
   Milaya had only been checked in for a few hours.  She recognized two of
the other guests from her train ride.  "William, Ramoth?"
   "Milaya!" William waved her inside.  "So this was the elaborate fairy
tale you were headed for."
   "She chuckled.  Doesn't seem like much of a playground to me."
   "Call it an elaborate fairy tale."
   "And you?  You refused to tell us where you were going."
   "I drift.  William's current was strong enough to pull me this way. 
Here we are.  Where's your room?"
   "I'm next door." She leaned forward.  "We share the water closet."
   "Great.  Perhaps we can see which of your stories held the most truth."
   "Perhaps." Milaya said.
   "Well," William tapped his bed.  "We'll need to compare fairy tales."
   "All right." She giggled.  "I'm going to have children."
   "Yeah, that's a fairy tale."
   "Exactly." She beamed and looked at their faces.  "Whatever.  William,
what's this playground?"
   "Hot, luscious, babe.  They're got women here who are hungry for it."
   Milaya pinched the bridge of her nose.  "Sex?  How is that ever lacking
for you?"
   "It's not the lack, it's how it changes.  I'm looking for a playground,
not a deadweight."
   She looked to Ramoth.
   "I have heard nothing, save that William is on a quest I find of
interest.  As do I yours now that I've heard it.  I must favor William's
odds.  He may find his play mate, but no daiva can bear children."
   "One did," William and Milaya said in unison.
   ***
   Felicia shaded her eyes as Setamious walked up the path to their house.
He traveled along the footpath through the woods, no doubt gawked at the
campers.
   It was hard to see the insecure little boy under all those years of fear
and guilt.  She walked down the path and met him in the water garden.
   "I need to speak with you." His voice was tense, all of him radiated a
growing anxiety.
   No, that would not be good.  "Let's sit."
   He drew a breath then let it go and shut his eyes.  "You need to help
me. I am to burn this place in the ground with you in it, but I can't.  You
are a brilliant woman.  Did you calculate that my love would save you? 
Yes, you.  You are not the type of woman that would endanger so many." He
pointed his finger to the house and then balled his hand into a fist.  "Why
do you damn their souls?"
   "I know what is damming and what is not.  You haven't been inside.  You
are meant to investigate a crime before you decide punishment.  Haven't you
taught me this?" She eased forward and put her hand behind his head.
   Her touch, cool, comforting.  Setamious leaned forward and kissed her on
the lips.  "Felicia, I want no quarrel with you.  Do as I say."
   She nipped him on the ear and rubbed his crotch.  "I think you should
get me back to Alexander's."
   "Really?  You'd do that?  After I burn the place."
   "Take me back with you, and I'll explain it.  You're scared to go
inside, and I get that."
   "I'm not scared, woman.  I was inside."
   "You didn't stay.  Tell me what foul corruptions happens within my home.
Tell me one!"
   Setamious leaned on her shoulder.  "It's what follows.  I cannot resist
her.  I do not have to.  All will die who break her law." He took her hands
in his.  "Let me save you."
   "You want to choke the life out of me?  Find a bind to weaken me?  Beat
me to death in a blind rage?  News flash, Setamious, you are under my
control, not the other way around."
   "That only woman you should cow to is the one with power over you."
   "My mater."
   "Not her, damn fool, you." Felicia unfastened his trousers.  "A couple
days.  I know you will leave, but it doesn't have to be in horror."
   He pushed away from her, tucked his cock back into his pants.  "Silurie
had indeed infected you."
   "Setamious, stay on this path, and you will get what you fear.  I'm
trying to correct it."
   He stalked over her and grabbed her by the neck.  "You have no shame for
what you've done?  You seek to alter the course of all lives?" His fingers
dug tight, squeezing like soft steel.
   Max came down the path, strolling casually.
   Setamious let go and stepped back.  "You've called your dog?"
   "I care about you, Setamious.  Stop.  There's an easier way."
   "Shut up.  Woman.  You're coming back to Alexander's.  You have broken
daiva law and I call--"
   Felicia wrapped her arms around him and kissed him.  She pulled and
yanked on his energy.  He could not be trusted to keep it.  She had been
bluffing before, his connection with his mater could be restored.  All he'd
have to do was call her name.
   She needed to sever that link.
   She was unprepared for the lack of resistance.  His power washed over
her.  Grey, colors, flashes of light.
   Setamious kissed her on the forehead.  "Your hubris astounds me."
   "As does yours." Max's voice.
   A thud on the ground.  Felicia went to her knees.  She eased away
sideways until she reached the bench.  Scuffling.
   "Felicia." Max's voice both close and far away.  An anchor in her
internal rough sea.
   "Get him to my room.  I can follow."
   "Um, but I thought you were going to."
   "No.  Move." Felicia stood from the bench and stumbled forward.  Her
stomach lurched.
   "I'm over here."
   Felicia swung her hand out and set it on Max's.  Setamious' leg crossed
her body.  "I need to release her hold on him."
   Setamious sputtered as Max set him on her bed.  "Can't be done,
Felicia."
   "I know what threads to snap.  Hush.  You've chosen your path."
   Max left them alone.  She could not focus, but she knew her room well.
Her vision was not necessary to break the bond.
   A sudden wave of searing malice arced up her spine.  Felicia tumbled to
her floor beside the bed.  She tensed and fought the pain pain.  Her breath
slowed to a crawl, the perspiration evaporated.  She let her body calm,
relax, and focused on tensing the barrier of her body.
   When the threat passed, she pushed to her feet.
   His eyes were open, but no emotion on his face.  He shook his head
slightly, begging her to stop.
   She motioned for him to keep quiet.  Her resolve had only been
strengthened.
   "Someone disagrees with your commitment to my safety.  You will never
waiver from your intention.  You will protect me, always." Felicia kissed
his lips.  "This is your only law."
   ***
   Milaya hung on the bannister, staring upstairs.  That's where they
lived, where he lived.  The man who would give her a baby.
   She trudged up the stairs, wondering what to say.  According to Bonnie,
the door would be open if she could go in.  All of the residents upstairs
were extended stay - they lived at the hostel for years.  He'd have to be
one of them.
   The others had described them as bedrooms, but they were whole houses. A
couch, bed, chairs, floor rug, a closet.
   He was seated to a desk, shuffling papers and writing letters. 
"Enjoying your stay?  Come in, close the door."
   Milaya hurried into the room and shut the door behind her.  "My name is
Milaya.  I've traveled a long way to meet you.  I've heard so much about
you."
   "From whom?"
   "Well," she sighed.  There wasn't a single name.  She'd heard.  Dark
skinned, blue eyed, daiva.  He had grown up.  One daiva gave birth.  It had
to be him.  He had no one close to him.  "No one person, in truth.  That
you are handsome is spoken by many."
   He shook his head.  "Leave the door open on your way out."
   He always accepted her into his company.  He was kind, cordial, but he
would not take her to his bed.  Each day Milaya left her room, she was not
settled until she could see him, speak to him.
   Why didn't he accept her body?  Milaya knew she was a gorgeous woman:
ghost white skin, a slender body, a perfect set of tits.
   Perhaps he needed more than her body.  Milaya resolved to employ her
charm.
   ***
   Maxine and Daphne sat on the porch swing.  William looked at her through
the window, a warm smile on his face.
   "What do you think?"
   "He's handsome, but I need him to get away from that friend of his."
   "Ramoth, the swarthy one?"
   "Yeah, he gives me the creeps."
   "I'll distract him."
   "Careful, man that big might break you."
   Daphne hummed and giggled.  "I'm stronger than I look."
   "Yeah, William will get his chance." She sighed.  "I wish Max would get
his head out of the books long enough to enjoy this.  He's got a sweet
little thing sniffling behind him, and he barely pays her attention."
   "She has taken his bed."
   "But not him, and she's not giving up.  I like her spunk.  She's just
what he needs, a daiva dedicated to his pleasure."
   "This is what you wanted for him?"
   Maxine chuckled and winked at William.  "My spell!  It worked?"
   "You tell me."
   William pushed open the back door.  He glanced down her body and
grinned. "Did you call me?"
   "I'm easier to stare at up close."
   "I'd like to get a lot closer, but I don't have that type of cash."
   "You don't need to be taught a lesson about space, fun, and sport."
   William chuckled.  "I assure you, I do not."
   "Thought so," Maxine pulled Daphne over and gave her a big kiss.  "Thank
you!"
   ***
   Maxine frowned at Daphne's failed attempt to speak to Ramoth.  He often
joined conversations, but rarely interacted with others outside the need to
feed.  William had taken to Maxine as an avid sampler of her delights.  She
served, Willie hit it out the park.  They had become best friends.
   That left her brother.
   Max pulled Maxine aside.  "What's this about you and magic?"
   "The way that creep that had Felicia acts, what if it's true?  I mean,
nothing like Felicia."
   He hugged Maxine, his arms draped around her waist.  "I'm glad you've
chosen to explore it, but be careful.  Gives yourself opportunities to
learn from mistakes."
   <You're not upset about it?>
   <Of course not.  What is the extent of this working?>
   Maxine chuckled, nibbled at his neck.  Perhaps if he experienced this
small delight, allowed himself to let go, he'd come to appreciate a daiva
woman.  <She'll do anything for you, for your seed.> She could feel the
curiosity.  She leaned back.  That little arch in his brow.  Oh, yes, he
was thinking.
   ***
   Max didn't have to invite her up.  Milaya made frequent use of his room.
He arrived and undressed. .
   She stared, flickered gaze.  Was he going to let her touch him?
   Was he going to give her what she wanted?
   Absolutely not.
   "Join me."
   She practically squeezed, removed her clothing.  She stood before him,
hands gripped behind her back.
   A gift, from his sister.  A toy to appease him.
   Milaya swayed her body, a slow dance that accentuated her body.
   It did not matter that he detested her.  She wasn't going away.  He
would feast.
   Whenever the impulse struck he took her.  The more aggressive and
demanding he became, the greater enjoyment she seemed to derive.  Max
usually siphoned vitae in small amounts.  So frequent and habitual, Max had
not felt cravings for energy in years.
   Now, with her, her would remember what it felt like to drink deep.
   ***
   Milaya hummed softly as she ironed Max's shirt.  Her suspicions had been
correct.  He wanted more than just a woman to carry his seed.  He needed a
companion, devoted to him, his commands.
   In her heart, she knew this was her life's purpose.  She was meant to be
with Max, to bring him happiness, to become the mother of his children. 
That he didn't recognize the latter was only a bump in the road.
   His sexual appetites would tamed first.
   Laundry folded, she carried it upstairs to his room.  Put his shirts and
pants, perfectly folded, in their drawers.
   He reclined on his bench.  The window overlooked the ocean.  "Do you
drink?"
   "Yes."
   "Here." He leaned forward and poured her a glass.  "Close my door."
   She crawled on the bed and took note of the titles of his books.  He
remained in the window, jaw set.
   "Thank you." She sipped from her glass.  "Why are you still over there?"
   "Because I do not share your level of interest in me."
   "Oh, I'm quite sure no one rivals your interest in you.  It's only that
I know our fate.  I am meant to be dedicated to you.  What more can I do to
make this work?  I have submitted to your every perversion, proven myself.
I am worthy of your child."
   He set his empty glass aside and approached the bed.  "Is that so?"
Softly spoken words, as if asking himself rather than her.
   "Yes.  My fate is to bring you happiness, one that includes a family."
   "Get on your hands and knees."
   Milaya's joy was shattered by the place he chose.  The one he always
used.  Max fucked her ass, pushed her face into the mattress, and when he
came, it was always deep inside her.  Milaya never managed to stay
conscious after her second orgasm.
   His perversions had become hers, promising bliss, but not the kind she
sought.
   <->
Written: Feb 2013
   Contact: nysidra at hot mail dot co
  
05_Conclave