Elijah (13 page)

Anya turned to look at her companion with the flicker of eyes so dark they were easily labeled black. Syreena was un-perturbed by Anya’s glare and crossed her slim legs casually to add punctuation to her unconcerned manner.

Anya was a half-breed Lycanthrope who was the result of what happened when a human and Lycanthrope had children. Unlike in Demon society, mating with humans was not forbidden to changelings and not punished when attempted. But it was generally frowned on because it took a very special person to be capable of being brought into their fold, and it had to be a total commitment or none at all, because the risk of exposure to the public was too great. It was bad enough as it was with the hunters and magic-users pursuing their existence. It was a horrifying thought to consider what might happen if the entire human race came to understand that myths and legends were more often true than not.

A half-bred Lycanthrope could not shapechange, but instead maintained a human form with all the, mostly nonvisible, traits of the animal they could have become had they been full-bred. In Anya’s case, she was part fox. She had the sleek, pointed grace of a vixen to her features, a beautiful delicacy that made her appear deceptively fragile. She was a redhead, though the color of her hair changed seasonally between bright auburn, brownish red, and various other degrees of the shade. At the moment that meant the myriad browns and reddish browns that came with the fall.

She was slim, petite, and one of Siena’s most trusted companions. Anya was to the Queen what Elijah was to Noah. The head of her armies, her lead assassin and infiltrator, and the one person who could vex her and make her laugh all in the same breath. It was a distinction of rank no half-breed had ever had in the Lycanthrope court and royal family before.

The second female was Syreena, Siena’s younger sister and heir to the throne in the event Siena did not have children. She had been called home and risen to the position of court advisor upon her sister’s ascension to the throne for very clear reasons. Firstly, she was a wise counselor, a fearless advocate for her sister’s wishes, and the only one who could gainsay the Queen without worrying about being banished from court. But what made her truly unique, one of the most unique Lycanthropes alive, was the fact that Syreena was the only living Lycanthrope who could transform into five distinct forms.

Every full Lycanthrope had three forms. The human, the Lycanthrope, and the animal, with the Lycanthrope being the Werecreature, half-human half-animal, like Siena’s Werecat form.

Syreena had two others.

It was generally believed that the anomaly had been caused by a life-threatening illness she had suffered during her adolescence. It had almost killed her, this mysterious illness, but having survived it she had become mutated in some way that, once she became capable of changing, she realized she was privy to two different genres of form. It had often been jokingly referred to as the Lycanthrope version of a split personality. This description was not too far off from the truth on many, many levels.

To begin with, her two animal shapes could not have been more opposite of one another. The
Page 42

first was of a peregrine falcon, a sharp-eyed hunter in flight. The second was of a bottle-nosed dolphin, a playful water creature with inconceivable intelligence. Though characteristics of both these creatures were quite apparent in her human form, such as her keen judgment and her fearless predatory nature, it was the peculiar nature of owning two so opposite Wereforms that made her somewhat unpredictable.

As a human, Syreena was slim and light, looking very much like a delicate bird but moving with the sleek grace and speed of her dolphin half. Her hair was split down a center part, one half a beautiful multitude of feather-soft browns, the other a sleek iron gray. Her eyes were dual-colored as well, but like the harlequin, the gray eye was on the side where the brown hair was, and the brown eye in its opposite position. Though this seemed extreme, it somehow worked to make her look quite exotic and unique outwardly, a handsome reflection of her nature overall.

Syreena was an anomaly, yes, but she was a precious one. She was in great demand by those who considered her nothing short of perfection. To be one such graceful and wonderful form was enough to put her genetic code in demand, but two? The power her stock could potentially have was something many coveted, provided she could pass the mutation on to her young. But it was clearly a chance many were eager to take.

Syreena herself, however, felt harangued by the covetous attention she received, and as a result had completely buried herself in her work as her sister’s advisor. She had made herself just as inapproachable as Siena had, but for very different reasons. Syreena actually craved a mate and family, but she trusted no Lycanthropes’ motives or intentions. It was rather like wealthy and famous people who could never be sure what motivated others to become their friends.

“Siena does not disappear without a trace,” Anya continued to point out to the counselor. “If she’s going to spend time away, she always tells me so. You are only just beginning to become reacquainted with your sister. I have known the Queen all of my life and she does not always do this.”

“I have been back to court since the war ended,” Syreena said, her tone reflecting how she did not appreciate being reminded that the half-breed across from her could be considered more of a sister to Siena than the Princess and heir apparent could. “I think it is safe to say I have learned enough about my sister in the past fourteen years.”

“No insult intended,” Anya apologized in solemnity. “Forgive me, I am just worried.”

“If you are so concerned, why not send out some of the Elite to search for her?”

“I would,” Anya hesitated, “but if it is solitude she is seeking and I should happen to disturb it, she will be livid and I will find myself leashed to her throne.”

That made Syreena laugh. The Princess tossed back her bicolored hair and grinned at Anya.

“What a pair we are. I do not believe we would know a vacation if it came up and bit us on the flank. What we should be doing is preparing for the Samhain festival.”

“What are you going to do at the festival? Cross your legs and be a voyeur?” Anya teased her.

The Samhain festival always ended with hundreds of entwined bodies scattered behind the trees and bushes of the forest just beyond the castle and the village. Syreena had no mate, and due to the same restrictions Siena suffered under, she could take but one lover in her lifetime.

“You know, you are fortunate that our Queen adores you,” Syreena threatened with a sparkle in her eye. “Else I would leash you to the throne myself.” The Princess sobered quickly. “You have me worrying now. I think I will skim some of the territory.”

Syreena stood up and tossed her hair over so that the gray side was buried beneath the brown.

The brown hair immediately began to slip over her body. Feathers and wings replaced humanity, and in a breathless flash of speed that Anya could not help but admire, Syreena took wing across the throne room’s vaulted ceilings.

She soared out of the underground castle in an instant, leaving Anya alone with her worries. At that moment, however, all Anya could do was marvel over the Princess’s abilities. There was no Lycanthrope alive who could change that fast. Perhaps Siena, but she would have to work
Page 43

extremely hard at it or be startled into the change.

Anya both did and did not envy those who were full-blooded changelings. On the one hand, most changelings could change form at will. It was a handy skill that would have been a tremendous asset to the General of the Lycanthrope Queen’s armies. And besides that, it seemed like so much fun to be able to experience the world as an animal.

In the con list was the tendency Lycanthropes had toward less controllable animalistic behaviors.

Though those with great strength like Siena and Syreena could control most of these urges, the majority of the population tended to be less assertive over their baser natures. Anya enjoyed the instincts she had been born with; they made her a determined fighter and an excellent strategist.

But she would hate being under the impulse of her instincts. Control meant everything to her.

In that moment, control meant taking some action of her own. Syreena had given her an idea.

She could send out those of her Elite who were aviary. As birds they could skim the land quickly and out of immediate notice. Siena might sense one of them passing by, but so long as they kept going they would not disturb her if indeed it was solitude that had drawn her away.

If it was something else, Anya would not be able to forgive herself for not acting. Siena was indeed her sister, and she was a friend as well. She would be remiss if she did not think of the Queen’s protection at all times. These times above others especially.

Siena was a remarkable leader with unequaled skill at her position. Though Syreena could step into her place if needed, the Princess did not have the same affinity with the people Siena did.

Syreena had lived a great deal of her lifetime in the monastic enclosure of The Pride. Like those great and wise teachers, she knew more about her studies than she did about relating to others.

This often showed during gatherings and it made others just as uncomfortable as it made her.

Siena was the leader the Lycanthropes needed in this era. There could be no substitute, especially not the markedly antisocial Princess. Her time would perhaps come one day, but hopefully that would be a long time into the future, long after Siena’s influence of peace and wisdom had erased the bloodthirsty legacy their father had left in his wake.

The remark about preparing for Samhain had been a jest. Syreena would not be found anywhere near the festivities and intense crowds of that celebration. Siena had thought to try and draw her out this year as insistently as she could, and this was why her absence sat so unwell with Anya.

Siena could not coax her sister into joining the party if she was not here to do it, and it had been practically all she had talked about for weeks now.

No.

Something was not right.

Anya strode out of the throne room to find her Elite and see if she couldn’t put that feeling of wrong back to right.

Elijah came out of the rear room dressed more appropriately in a pair of jogging pants that were somewhat small on him, but much better than running around in nothing but a towel. They were flexible enough to be comfortable and served their purpose.

“Close enough,” Siena remarked as she took his measure. “I didn’t realize Jinaeri had men’s clothes here. Something tells me she has a secret she’s been keeping from me.”

“And do you require your subjects to tell you about their affairs?”

Elijah knew he was baiting her, but she smiled and moved to sit on the couch with her feet curled up under her. She was looking a bit better though, if a little tired around the edges. Elijah joined her by sitting on the couch across from her, hooking an ankle over his knee with casual ease.

“No. But I do require my ladies-in-wait to do so. Jinaeri is one of my closest aides. I only keep unattached aides near me.”

“Why?”

“Because my senses are quite powerful and it is too easy for me to detect the scent of a mate on them.”

Page 44

“And why would that be so bad?” Elijah pressed her. He suspected the answer already, but wanted to hear her say it.

“It is a…distraction. I keep myself far removed from those distractions. I would not punish her or condemn her for it, I would merely replace her and give her another position.”

“You mean a demotion. No wonder she is reluctant to tell you.”

“It is not a demotion.”

“To go from a valuable aide close to the Queen to…whatever? You don’t consider that a demotion?” Elijah laughed with a short, disbelieving snort. “I’ll bet you anything Jinaeri does.”

“Perhaps,” Siena relented.

“And for what? For having a lover? That sounds quite discriminatory, Your Majesty. All because you don’t want to be made uncomfortable with thoughts about a mate or about sex?”

“I would not expect you to understand,” she snapped suddenly, her body becoming rigid with her irritation. “It’s well known that you Demons will rut with anything that sits still for you long enough.”

“Oh, really? Is that fact as well known as the whole ‘Lycanthrope blood is tainted’ thing?”

He made his point, that was clear. He could tell by the color flushing her cheeks. But to his surprise, she once more relented.

“Perhaps you are correct. I am afraid some of my prejudices still show themselves from time to time, despite my efforts otherwise. I apologize for the disparagement.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Elijah said quietly, feeling a bit low for taunting her. “I’ve said enough rude things to you recently to more than compensate.”

“This too is true,” she noted, her brow lifting teasingly as her eyes sparkled.

“You know,” Elijah raised a hand to shake a finger at her, “you have an attitude problem.”

“I certainly do. Your attitude is a huge problem for me.”

“Oh, very funny,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his lips.

But in spite of himself he was enjoying the harmless sparring. She had a quick and ready wit. This did not surprise him. He had seen evidence of that quite a bit already. Still, it was a pleasant attribute. He had been surrounded by strong and brilliant women all of his life. It stood to reason she would be appealing to him because of that fact alone.

“Are you hungry? I need to hunt for us if we are to eat,” she said.

“You don’t look like you are ready for a hunt yet,” he cautioned.

“And I never will be if we start to starve to death. Don’t concern yourself, warrior. I haven’t had a rabbit take the breath out of me yet.”

She stood up, the skirt of another one of those little dresses falling into place only after giving the Demon a glimpse of a temptingly curved bottom. Heading for the cave entrance, Siena was oblivious to the reaction it inspired in him. When he followed several minutes later, he found the empty dress pooled on the floor right near the opening. Unable to help himself, he picked the garment up and, touching it beneath his nose, he took a breath full of her scent.