Tentyrian Legacy (32 page)

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Authors: Elise Walters

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BOOK: Tentyrian Legacy
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“What about the other signs? Were those made
by other Tentyrians too?”

“Yes. There were twelve Covens in all:
Cancer, Leo, Sagittarius, Libra, Virgo, Aquarius, Aries, Gemini,
Taurus, Scorpio, Pisces, and Capricorn. The signs which are now
affiliated with astrological horoscopes were our Covens’ symbols,”
Maximos says. He then pauses, seeming to search for the next piece
of information to reveal in this dizzying explanation of what I am
and where I come from.

“Have you ever been to the Louvre museum?” he
asks. “I was there last New Year’s, actually.”

“Do you remember seeing the Zodiac of
Dendera?”

I quickly run through the catalogue of images
and memories from our Paris trip and find the one of the stunning
Egyptian bas-relief I had seen at the museum. I remember the tour
guide told us it had been removed from the ceiling of an ancient
Egyptian temple. The sandstone carving portrayed a large circle and
within it were hieroglyphs representing twelve constellations. In
each of the four corners of the circle was an Egyptian maiden.

“Yes! I do. It shows the twelve main
constellations. Those are your Coven’s symbols!” I say excitedly as
the pieces of information start to click.

“Precisely. Dendera, also referred to as
Denderah, is a town situated on the west bank of the Nile in Egypt.
Tentyra is the Greek name for Dendera, and from which my . . . or I
should say our people obtained their name. Our city was called
Tentyris, and it was there the Dendera Zodiac, which is how people
now refer to it, was found in the Temple of Hathor. Our queen
commissioned its design to commemorate the twelve Covens and the
royal family. The four Egyptian maidens that you may remember
seeing in the corners of the zodiac represent Hathor’s daughters .
. .”

“What exactly is a Coven, though?” I ask
hurriedly. This is just another in the unending amount of questions
I have.

“Each Coven consisted of around fifty
Tentyrians. The Covens’ leaders, like me, were elected to council
seats, where we formed the Council of the Zodiac. The Council
formed the government for Tentyris. We were a small but prosperous
city . . . long ago,” he says. I can hear the sadness in his
voice.

“And you said in Egypt? But you seem Greek.
I’ve even heard you speak it. With the last name Vasilliadis, I
guess that’s what I assumed you were.”

“While our homeland was in Egypt, our
heritage is fundamentally Greek blended with Macedonian bloodlines.
We’re an evolved people who emigrated from Greece.”

“So you were a government official?”

“Something like that. I was also a trusted
advisor to our queen— Queen Hathor.”

“And what happened to her?”

“She died. As did her daughters and the
majority of the Council members who were my friends. There are only
six of us left now, of the first generation.”

“How does the Dark Coven fit in?”

“They are three of the six of us who are
alive—Stavros, Calix, and Aglaia. They are responsible for killing
our people.” Maximos’ hands, which seemed so calm moments before,
are now clenched.

“And you intend to do what with them?”

“Kill them, among other things,” Maximos says
seriously.

If you asked me a day ago what I thought of
someone who openly admitted to wanting to murder people, I would
have said they belong in a psychiatric ward or jail. But in this
new world that seems to have swallowed me up, the legal system
appears irrelevant, along with the basics of biology.

“It’s been thousands of years; I guess that
is not something you could forgive?” I ask.

“Could you forgive it if you saw everyone you
loved slaughtered in front of you?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“They are Tentyrian. Not simple humans you
can put behind bars.”

“You know, I was perfectly happy being a
simple human.”

“Maybe. But you aren’t one.” We both remain
silent for several minutes.

“So if my birthday is tomorrow and it’s
July—does that mean I’m a member of the Cancer Coven? Do they even
exist anymore?”

“It doesn’t work like that. And your lineage
never belonged to a Coven.”

“What did my ancestors belong to?” “The royal
family.”

“Does that make me royalty or something?” “We
use the term ‘Luminary.’”

“To be a luminary, don’t you need to be
inspiring?”

“Yes, that is the essence behind the word.
And like the Luminaries before you, you are inspiring,
Arianna.”

“How?”

“Well for one, no one has a power like yours.
There has only been one Tentyrian ever who was able to read minds
the way I suspect you will be able to. Her name was Daria.”

“Who was she?”

“She was the First Luminary, the eldest of
Hathor’s four daughters—the maidens portrayed in the Dendera Zodiac
carving. And now that you are here, I believe you were meant to
ascend to the First Luminary position, Arianna. It’s a position of
great power and responsibility.”

I can feel my anxiety coming back. “What does
that even mean, Maximos? Now I’m supposed to be a vampire . . .
luminary?”

Beep beep beep.

“Arianna, take a deep breath and calm
down.”

“Stop telling me to calm down!”

“It’s for your own good. Now breathe.” But it
really feels like I can’t.

“I, I can’t . . . it hurts.” It’s like an
elephant is on my chest.

“Am I having a heart attack?” I sputter. “I’m
not feeling well, Maximos.”

“You said your heart hurts?”

“Yes.” My mouth and lips are now dry. The
pain is growing.

“We need to leave this dream, Arianna, and
you need to wake up. The Turn is coming, and your anxiety is
bringing it on now.”

“But there is so much I don’t understand,
Maximos. You have to tell me!”

“I will, I promise. It’s time to go back,
though. When you wake up, I’m going to be right next to you. Do you
believe me?”

My voice comes out a whisper: “Yes.”

The beautiful field is now gone, as is
Maximos. I’m standing alone in my white room and I’m hurting,
physically and emotionally. I don’t want to wake up to face what
sounds like a nightmare. I am to become a vampire.

CHAPTER 13: THE
TURN

 

2010 AD, July

Ambrosine Island, Ionian Sea

 

Arianna has proven time and time again she
won’t play by the rules. But this time she’ll have to, because when
the Turn happens she’ll want to break every single one. Entering
her mind was risky. I could have pushed her too far. And at one
point I thought I had. I told her it was difficult for Tentyrians
to come of age, but I didn’t tell her how fragile a Tentyrian mind
could be, especially one with strong power like hers. The Dark
Coven is a prime example of what happens when the mind isn’t kept
in check . . . But Arianna is strong. And she finally seems to have
accepted the truth.

Her temperature is now at 115 degrees
Fahrenheit, and her heart rate has increased twofold. Evander says
that the Turn is on the cusp. She is only minutes away from the
intense pain that is about to take over her body. Hathor help
her.

“The drug is fully out of her system, Max,”
says Evander. “She should be with us any moment. I had the Brothers
put restraints in your room. You remember when Narcissa came of
age—it was one of the most powerful I’ve ever seen. I wouldn’t be
surprised if Arianna’s is the same.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. The Luminaries
have been gifted with the most power, which makes this experience
even harder. Should we move her now?” But my question is pointless;
her eyelids are lifting and her eyes are glowing. Her pupils have
dilated and are rimmed in vibrant green. Like emeralds on fire. She
is awake. “Arianna, can you hear me?” I ask.

“Yes. Please . . . make this stop!” she
cries. Her voice is riddled with pain.

Her body is shaking, and her fingers are
twitching—reaching for something she can’t quite grasp. Release
from the pain. I know what she is going through is excruciating. It
feels like all of your insides are moving and trying to find a new
place to root themselves. Your skin begins to feel too tight, and
your throat becomes a parched desert. Now mottled, her skin is
slick with sweat. Before I can respond, offer her words of
assurance, she bolts upright and violently rips the IV from her
arm. A bead of blood forms at the insertion point. My mouth
waters.

“Get away from me!” she snarls. Her hands
frantically pull at the sticky plastic pads over her heart.

“The aggression is a natural side effect,”
Evander warns as he tries to blot some gauze on her wrist. But she
writhes away.

“Don’t talk about me like I’m a
sideshow!”

“He’s here to help, Arianna. Evander is a
doctor.”

She now doubles over, knocking down the heart
monitor and a tray of medical instruments with a caustic crash.

“I’m taking her to my suite, Evander. No one
comes unless I call. If there is a complication with tonight’s
mission, let me know.” Evander gives me a warning look. I scoop her
into my arms; she’s as light as a feather. As much as I want to be
out with the teams tonight, ensuring that Arianna is safe is
equally important.

“No doctors, Maximos, please no doctors. Can
you get Raad?” she pleads as violent spasms rack her body.

“I can’t find him right now, kardoula mou. I
promise I’m looking. I think a bath will make you feel better,
though.” I shift her to my wing of the house, where the Brothers
know it’s off limits. Her fingers are clutched tightly to my shirt.
They might as well be clutched around my heart.

 

 

“Arianna, you are burning up. I’m going to
put you in the water to equalize your temperature.”

She doesn’t acknowledge my words.
Fortunately, the sulfur baths in the home are always running. I
just need to adjust the temperature down. To imagine Arianna having
to go through this alone—or worse, at a hospital, where they would
likely turn her into a government experiment—puts ice in my veins.
The seclusion and comforts of Ambrosine are what she needs.

After the massacre, Aristos, Evander, and I
lived in temporary shelters on the island before going back to the
Sanctum. When we came to terms with the fact there was nothing for
us at the Sanctum anymore, we—or rather I—decided to build
Ambrosine. By then, Aristos needed to work out his anger and left
us for several decades. Evander threw himself into study and
science. And I needed an outlet, which became the genesis for this
house. Over the years, I’ve razed and rebuilt it at least twenty
times. Although the Brotherhood has homes all over the world, I’ve
always felt an attachment to this location. Its view, remoteness,
and natural sulfur springs are unparalleled. It was also our refuge
when everything went to hell. And because of that, this place has
been my solace. I hope it can be the same for Arianna.

I place her on the edge of the tub, where she
just about falls over onto the marble floor before I catch her.
“Arianna, stay with me . . .”

“No . . . I’m dying,” she cries.

With no time to lose, I place her directly
into the water that I’ve adjusted down to almost freezing. The
writhing of her body stops as she registers the stark change in
temperature. The green of her eyes is electric.

“Better?” I ask. “Numbing . . .”

“Give it a few minutes. You are going to
start to cool down. Pretty soon your body temperature will swing in
the opposite direction, and we’ll need to get you warm.” I reach
over for a jar of crystallized eucalyptus and dump a scoopful
in.

“What is that?” she asks breathlessly.

“One of Shashandra’s concoctions. It will
help relax your muscles, and it smells good.”

“Hmmm. Everything about you smells good,” she
murmurs. It’s the fever talking. “Like mint mixed with man. It’s so
. . . heady. Is that the right word? I don’t really know. You are
heady, I suppose, and so . . . big. I’ve never met anyone who takes
up so much space. How do you do that?” Her head is lolling side to
side against the stone lip of the tub. It’s a strange question, but
if talking distracts her from the tumult of the cell processes
happening within her, fine.

“Years of practice?”

“I bet you’ve had lots of practice at things
. . . I bet you know everything . . .”

“I have had all the time in the world, I
suppose. Which has given me ample opportunity to learn,” I say
cautiously. I feel her forehead— still too hot.

“Would you take advantage of me?”

“I would hope not. I’m sworn to protect you.”
I swallow. Hard. “Protection is nice and all, but women don’t like
that all the time. I like . . . I’m not sure what I like. You are
awfully serious . . . Why am I still in my dress? Why is that
bandage on my foot? Why did you put me in here like this?” Her
attention flits restlessly from one point to another.

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