Page 34

B ack in their cell at Sanctuary Keep, Madeline and Dom brushed their teeth side by side, not talking. After spitting toothpaste into the sink, she walked out, slamming the door behind her, hoping it showed just how really pissed she was.

Maddy crawled into bed, curling onto her side to face the wall.

The mattress dipped as Dom got in beside her. “You’re still angry.”

Maddy tossed toward him, locking the sheet under her arms. “I’ll probably stay that way.”

“For an eternity?” he teased.

“No one really knows if we’ll have that long, but if we do, yes.”

“I had to try the petition, Maddy.”

“No. You didn’t. You promised never to abandon me. You broke your promise. I told you I wouldn’t give you a second chance.”

“What I did wasn’t the same.”

“Yes. It was. I can’t live without you.”

He grinned. “But you can spend eternity not talking to me.”

She drew her brows tight. “Yes. No. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I could accept any punishment as long as I knew you were safe. Remember, you tried to take the blame, but I’m still talking to you.”

She snarled. “My attempt was half-assed. I didn’t know I could submit a formal petition.”

“I had to do something to save you, Maddy.”

“And what if the OC had accepted your petition? Did you think about what that would do to me?”

“You’d be safe. You’re my mate. My heart beats for you. What happens to you, happens ten times worse to me. I could handle my stasis. Not yours. You have to be free to live for both of us.”

Dom seized her lips for a kiss, stifling any objection. He released her. “Please don’t be angry with me.”

“I can’t stay that way. I love you, Dom. But being apart would tear me up worse than any stasis.”

“You’re unique. We don’t know how you’d handle sleep. And I can’t even consider your extinction.”

She curved her fingers around the nape of his neck, tangling them in his long, dark hair. With her lips pressed to his, she slipped her tongue into his mouth. He sucked on it, making her dizzy from the passion.

When he released her, Maddy stroked a palm across his solid, bristly jaw. “Whatever happens, happens to both of us. If not, you’ve failed me. You’ve abandoned me like my birth parents. Like my father. Like my mother who lost herself in a bottle.”

“Madeline, if you could live one more day, I would gladly offer my life. You’ve given me more in weeks than I had for centuries. Millennia.”

“And I can say the same. Except the centuries and millennia part. But you must swear that our fate will be together. No matter what it is. Good or bad. If not, Dom, we mean nothing.”

“We mean everything.” He sighed, his breath catching before he said, “Together, then. In life. In death. In sleep.”

“Thank you.” She snuggled closer, nibbling his chin, jaw, and lips before she returned to his mouth. Her heart thundered against her chest. Her body warmed in his embrace. But before giving in completely, Maddy pushed Dom away. She curled to the side, rising on an elbow. “About Gareth.”

Dom was still panting from the kiss. “I’m not sure I want to talk about Gar right now.”

“Well, we might not have many more chances.”

He rolled toward her, adopting her pose. “What about him?”

She shook her head to concentrate on the conversation rather than on Dom’s incredible bare chest. “You know about my mother’s abusive alcoholism.”

“I do.” Dom stroked a palm along her naked thigh.

She shivered from his touch. “After my sisters moved out, I attended Al-Anon meetings. There, humans having similar problems discussed their situations. Anyway, one of the big lessons I learned applies to your relationship with your friend.”

“What was the lesson?”

“Al-Anon 101. You cannot help someone who does not want to help himself.”

Dom closed his eye. Moisture seeped from it. Wordlessly, she watched as centuries later her mate came to grips with the loss of his best friend.

The black-winged assassin, her gruff lover, pulled her on top of him, his arms lashing around her. “You are nothing like Gar. He was vain, selfish, and unwilling to change or control himself. I know that. Now ride me, mate. Ride me into oblivion.”

Forgetting their troubles for the moment, she laughed. “You say the most romantic things. I’m not a Syc anymore, but I’m happy to follow your order, O bossy one.”

Madeline straddled Dom’s thighs, rose to her knees, and massaged her breasts, plucking on her nipples. With a wicked grin, she grasped his hard cock, sat down on it, and rode him into oblivion. Though her fangs punched from her gums, she did not drink his blood for fear they were watched. She hoped the jailers reported her restraint.

In the early morning, a knock woke her. Very polite. Why didn’t the visitor just walk in? After all, they were prisoners.

A sleep-rumpled Dom stumbled to the door, stepping into his pants on the way. The voices were too whispered for Madeline to hear, but her mate returned, his expression all business.

“The OC has called the Feard out. It seems I’m still active even though he wants to hang me out to dry. Anyway, we’re splitting up to quell problems in Angor.”

Maddy hopped out of bed and rushed to the closet, pulling out leather pants, a shirt, and a lined jacket. “I’m going along.”

“No.”

“Yes. I can be lookout.”

“No. We don’t know if you’re Immortal. And you don’t know how to use your abilities yet.”

She fisted her hips and tapped a foot. “Our relationship will not work unless we’re equals.”

“Maddy. We’re not equals. I’m a winged assassin of the OneCreator. I’ve also been at this for a few more millennia than you have. You have new gifts, but they’re untested.”

Frowning but determined, she said, “Not equals that way. I know you’re bigger and stronger. I mean in the decision-making process.”

“You’re right. If we survive the trial, we’ll talk.”

She chewed her lip and her shoulders sank in defeat. “Okay, flyboy, I’m giving in this one time. Get out of here. Stay safe.”

“Always. Besides, I’m saving myself for a good spanking from the OC.”

“I don’t think you’re sufficiently worried about the trial.”

He kissed her cheek. “I’m worried about you.”

She flashed her most confident smile as he left, hiding her fears. Their time together was slipping away. No . Dom had promised they would face whatever the future had in store—together always.

He had saved her, but what she felt for Dom went way beyond gratitude. He was her lover, her confidant, her north star, her best friend. He had seen her through the most drastic changes in her life and stood with her. She clasped a hand to her chest. He was her mate.

****

C ourt resumed when the assassins returned from Angor. Yawning, the OneCreator rested an elbow on the arm of his throne. He was in a quandary about Dom and the once-human. Though he enforced his laws consistently, this case had him stymied. “Now, where were you, Michael? Oh, yes. You were pointing out that it’s all right to break a law if it works out okay or if one of the miscreants is unique. Do you have anything else?”

“I do. I was promising that the testimony to this point would help my next argument.”

He called Alarik back to finish his statements. Michael asked, “As a healer, you examined the defendants?” He spun toward the OC. “With their permission, of course.”

“Yes,” said the Aeternal from Scath.

“What did you find?”

“Their hearts are linked by a thread that binds them together, similar to our mated Aeternals.”

The OC rubbed his jaw. “Similar but not the same.”

“True, though...”

With a wave of his hand, the OC silenced Alarik.

Michael continued to plug away at the mate defense. “And Ohngel and Indigo?”

“The same. I saw the thread, the mating bond.” The Aeternal mage flicked his gaze to the throne, probably expecting to be stifled again.

Michael surrendered his witness to the prosecution.

Tetrys rose. The male was pompous but loyal. And boring. He gripped the lapels of his somber robe. No color for him. “How can you be sure the thread you see is a mating bond?”

Alarik shifted from foot to foot. “I cannot be one hundred percent positive, but both couples have similar connecting threads—heart to heart.”

“But you are not one hundred percent certain?” Tetrys faced the crowd, performing for them.

“No. But...”

“Thank you. You are excused.” With a flourish of his robe’s hem, Tetrys sat.

Michael called Freki to the stand, an irritating creature who was never at a loss for words. “Why the fuck are you calling my wolver to testify? My first. One of my flawed creatures.” He muttered so low, most could not hear, “I did better with Unicorns.”

“I heard that,” said Freki. “A bunch of sissies. Too busy primping their manes.”

Michael glared at the witness until he stopped talking. “I called Freki to testify because wolvers are well acquainted with mating bonds.”

“We are,” said the wolver, plopping onto his haunches. He growled at the OneCreator. “And I am not flawed. You just don’t like lip. Even when it’s the truth.”

Michael began quickly as if fearing the response. Or a lightning strike. “How does mating work?”

“Can’t tell you how. Only that it does. A male wolver can be going along minding his own biz. Pow ! A female struts by wagging her tail, and the bond snaps into place. When it does, neither can fight the attraction. They mate for life.”

“Has it happened to you?” asked Michael.

Freki’s snout dipped toward the floor. “Yes,” he rasped, his voice halting.

“Where is your mate now?”

Freki cleared his throat. “She was killed, shredded by a Flesh Eater a century ago.”

Madeline gasped and slapped a hand over her heart, a sympathetic tear streaking down her cheek.

“What would you have done to save her?” asked Michael.

“I would have offered myself to the Scourge. I would have done anything necessary.”

“What if there was a law forbidding it?” asked the Bearer of Death.

“There is no law beyond the mating law.”

The OneCreator cocked an elbow on each knee, his heart sad at the wolver’s loss. He softened his tone. “There are my laws.”

“Who knows what drug you snorted when you wrote them. Some of your rules make less sense than others.”

The OC rested his chin in both palms. “A reminder to all. Freki is a wolver. Dom is an Immortal. Madeline is a ... something. But they are all under my rule.”

Michael called Ohngel to testify. “How do you know you and the witch are mates?”

Indigo shot to her feet from the audience section, “I’ll field this one.”

Ohngel glanced at the OneCreator and shrugged.

“Roark...”

“Who?” asked the OneCreator, suddenly a tad snarky. Everyone wanted to be an expert on mating. He’d outlawed it millennia ago.

Indigo slammed her fists to her hips. “We’ve covered this whole name business. Anyway, Roark here asked me to be his mate at an inappropriate time. We were in the middle of a battle. I said, ‘Yeah,’ and the goddam thing snapped into place and almost took me out. I was speechless.”

“If only,” said the OneCreator.

Indigo blew him a kiss. Cheeky female, but she entertained him, and he admired her spunk.

When Tetrys declared he had no questions of Ohngel before he returned to his seat, Indigo smirked. “Cluck, cluck, cluck.”

Michael questioned Dominion, who also saw the bond he shared with Madeline, the mystical manifestation of their love. Once he finished with the black-winged assassin, he turned toward the spectators, announcing in a booming voice, “I call Jasmine and Terrell to testify.”

The audience whispered and even the OC flinched, unhitching his leg from the arm of his throne.

He opened his mind, searching for a memory of the two Immortals who were among his earliest creations. If he could sort through all the data in his head, he might remember them better.

The only memory he extracted from buried recesses was that Jasmine and Terrell had retired from court society, gone off to live somewhere, and had never been seen or heard from again.

All eyes in the courtroom, including his own, followed the two Immortals as they strode forward hand-in-hand.

“Let’s get to the point. Are you mates?” asked Michael once they stood in place to testify.

“We are,” said Terrell.

Jasmine nodded.

“How do you know?” Michael asked.

The female Immortal said, “We see the bond.”

“How can we be certain what you say is true?” asked Michael.

She bristled. “Other than our word?”

“Yes.” Light seeped from Michael’s skin. He quickly sucked it in.

“The OneCreator could look inside our minds to view our truth. I am aware he is reluctant to use such powers on his creations, but such would be possible,” said Terrell.

The OneCreator avoided Michael’s questioning stare. He was not ready to invade their minds. Besides, law was still law.

“Why did you leave the court millennia ago?” asked the Bearer of Death.

“We knew we were different. And by then, the OneCreator,” Terrell swallowed as though he had a fist in his throat, “had announced mating was a thing of the past. Along with others of our kind, we sought a place to live in peace. We call it The Retreat.”

Had he grown sloppy in his management of OneWorld? Had he spent too much time at court, entertaining frivolous gods and goddesses who had the attention spans of a Vast nat? N-a-t , not g-n-a-t . Why would Earthers add a g to the name? He didn’t know.

Anyway, an entire colony lived off the grid, unbeknownst to him. But the law was still law. The case was not about mates. It was about an Immortal, a Leech, and blood. But does the hybrid Scourge have a malady?

“What is life like at The Retreat?” asked Michael.

“Similar to that anywhere with a few exceptions.”

“We’ll get back to those exceptions in a moment. What do you know of a book of laws for mated pairs?”

Jasmine kneeled on the stone tiles to riffle through a huge tote bag. “I have a copy.” Retrieving it, she held it up for all to see.

The court wide-eyed the OneCreator as he pressed fingers to his temple, trying to remember. Had he written laws for mated beings? He couldn’t recall. There had been so few bonded Immortals. Even then. Hadn’t there?

“May I read it?” he asked.

Jasmine appeared reluctant to put it into his hands.

Acknowledging her hesitation, he said, “Do not fear me, child.”

After some thought, she stretched out her arms so she did not have to climb the steps to his throne.

Taking it, he studied the cover, sensed the ancient tome’s age, and set it in his lap. “I shall peruse this after we recess today.”

Michael paused, likely for effect. Over the millennia, his Bearer of Death had pleased him. He had grown into his power. Other than a tendency toward showmanship, he sorted out other Immortals with equity. He was a child to be proud of.

“Let’s return to those exceptions you mentioned earlier, Terrell. How is it different where you live?” asked Michael.

Terrell flicked his gaze to the throne, as if to judge reaction. “Younger mated couples have joined our group.”

The OneCreator schooled his expression. Matings still occurred? He’d thought Ohngel an exception because of the Aeternal witch. He doubted Dom and Madeline’s claim.

“Other irregularities?” pursued Michael.

“Some of us have borne offspring.”

The audience, including Dom, Ohngel, and Indigo, gasped. Madeline probably did not understand the gravitas. Murmurs of not possible and untruth made their way through the court.

The OneCreator shot from his throne. “We are in recess. Leave now. I will announce my verdict tomorrow. Begone,” he bellowed.

He thundered from the room with Jasmine’s book under his arm. He needed to think, recall, and read. Changes were rocking OneWorld—geological disruptions, his declining health, his mood swings, disobedience of his laws, and an entire community of mated couples and livebornes.

He slammed into his personal chambers, angry at himself. Fearing the spread of the malady, he had sought to control Immortal DNA by calling an end to mating and producing liveborne. Or so he thought. It had been so long ago that he barely remembered. Chaos and his sisters had stood with him then. Aeternals and humans had not existed.

He had also worried about overpopulation. The creation of Immortals had to balance their extinction. Such was mandatory with eternity. Otherwise, in time, OneWorld would be overrun.

Though he had failed to eliminate the mating urge, a bigger problem niggled in his mind. How did Madeline come to be?

Despite his distaste for the invasion, he might need to crawl into a few heads.

He was slipping.