September 22, 2010
Love Bite.
Nathan walked over to Ekion and, in a rare display of affection, rested his head on his husband’s shoulder. Ekion pulled him into a loose embrace and flinched a split second before Nathan sank his fangs into his flesh.
Teleika’s eyebrows shot up. Jetta grinned, and Lia started cackling.
“I thought I broke him of that habit,” she said.
Nathan opened his eyes and stared at his mother, his teeth still buried in Ekion’s shoulder.
Lia grinned back at him, entirely unperturbed. “You were what, six, before you stopped greeting everyone you liked with the biggest bite you could muster? You even told me once that kisses were for wimps who lacked decent teeth.”
“If you’ve got ‘em, use ‘em,” Teleika remarked absently as she watched Ekion’s attempts to pry his husband off grow less and less subtle.
“Oh, he does,” the guardsman remarked, then blushed.
Nathan grinned against his shoulder.
The Flowers.
It must be hard, Lia often thought, to go from being a sentient piece of landscape to a human-ish being. Talk about culture shock.
So when Dag cheerfully informed her that he’d finally found something similar between human culture and landwight culture, and presented her with the sickliest looking bouquet she’d ever seen (wild rose and foxglove and some dying daisies and random sprigs of pine), she ignored the thorns and gladly accepted it, dropping them into a glass on her windowsill as fast as was kind.
He kept giving her … “flowers” was too narrow a word, but the thought was there, even if they did end up having some interesting conversations on what constituted “safe” when it came to botanicals. (Dag was floored to discover that plants could be harmful to humans, and for weeks afterward gave her nothing but herbs and the occasional carrot.)
He passed it on, too. When Nathan was five, he dropped a handful of weedy buttercups on her lap, roots, dirt, and all, and solemnly informed her that that was what you were supposed to give a lady if you liked her, and she was a lady and he liked her very much. He was not quite as … prolific a giver as his father (who, after all, was still showering her with random garden trimmings every time he realized the last batch was wilting), but every so often she’d be sitting at her desk, and she’d catch a glimpse of the glass out of the corner of her eye, and notice a new flower or two tucked neatly into place. (Nathan’s gifts, she was happy to say, were all nonpoisonous and generally lacking in stickies, though he was more inclined towards random greenery than his father.)
And then Nathan went journeying and was lost, and Dag died before even getting the chance to see his daughter, and Lia quietly pruned the last bouquet of anything likely to rot and left the rest there to dry in the strong semitropical sun. And when little Teleika found the preserved flowers and asked, gingerly touching one wrinkled brown petal, what they were, Lia set her on her knee and told her. (Lia thought she’d rarely seen anything sadder in her life, outside of open battle. Teleika thought she’d never seen anything prettier.)
And then Nathan was found, dragged back from his own special hell by one of those suspiciously nondescript people who ended up in the Guard occasionally (though Lia never did quite figure out how someone that damn pale managed nevertheless to be overlooked), and he met his sister and re-met his mother and realized his father was nowhere to be seen, and he was back in body and even mostly in mind, but he wasn’t really back at all.
And then one day a couple years later, Teleika came running in at some ungodly hour of the morning, giddily yet gently waving a sunny yellow daisy around and beaming ear to ear, and as Lia grumped out of bed to help her daughter find her own flower-glass, she thought that it might take some time, and probably more visits from that guard (who twitched so nicely when startled), and probably also being dropped into some sort of work if he didn’t do it on his own, but Nathan would be rather all right, in the end.
When she got to her office, there was a tiny budding rose, perfect and just a touch more yellow than copper, nestled amid dried holly leaves.
Family (Thaziazhsta).
Teleika opened the door, walked in…
“So…”
…And spun to glare at her brother, who was leaning back in an armchair pointedly reading a thick book.
“Late night?” he asked cheerfully (well, for him, anyway), ostentatiously turning a page. Teleika glared harder and absently swung the door shut. “The glares work better when Mom does ‘em,” Nathan remarked absently, not-really-reading with great deliberation.
“Do you always have to do this?”
“You would prefer Mother to be the one to greet you?”
“I’m eighteen. I don’t need either of you to wait up for me!”
“Oh, but this way we get a head start on tomorrow’s gossip,” Nathan replied. “So who was it this time?”
“Oh, no. I’m not telling either of you.”
“Hm.” He flipped another page.
“No. I know what you’re up to. You keep … showing up at my dates’ houses and being attentive,” Teleika said, scrambling for word, “…and, it’s creepy. And then they won’t go out with me anymore.”
“Well, that’s their lookout, isn’t it? And what’s wrong with wanting to know just who my sister’s spending time with? You did the same thing to Ekion.”
“Yes, but I was nine. There’s a bit of difference between a nine-year-old staring at you and a thirty-year-old.”
“Hm.”
“I’m going to bed.”
“Okay.” Nathan turned another page.
That was suspiciously mild. “Okay?”
Nathan glanced up. “What, would you prefer I try to forbid you to sleep?”
“Nooo… Never mind.” Teleika turned to leave.
“Good night.”
“Good night,” Teleika responded, voice laden with suspicion. Slowly, with many glances back, she shuffled off down the hallway.
Nathan turned another page as he heard her door slam, then extinguished the light. Ekion shoved open the window and clambered inside.
“You were right. It’s that Henry fellow.”
“Hm. Good.”
“So… Going over bright and early tomorrow, then?”
“Mm.”
“There’s a bakery that opens there pretty early. We can stop in there before you start your overprotective-brother rounds.”
If there had been more expression there, that would have been a glare. “If they bothered to properly state their intentions beforehand, I wouldn’t have to go ask now, would I?”
“I never properly stated my intentions…”
“And both Great-grandmother and Mother accosted you to ask.”
“Hmpf. Are you coming to bed yet?”
“Maybe. Have you properly stated your intentions yet?”
Ekion leered. “Do you really want me to?”
Nathan gave him one smoldering look, then slinked off down the other hallway. Ekion, laughing, followed.
And there was a faint gleam of metal in the moonlight as Lia, grinning, popped another needle in her mouth and strolled away.
November 20, 2008
The Grin.
It was just his luck that he’d get taken hostage when he went to deposit that lousy dollar Jones had given him.
Though at least he had some luck. These guys were clearly incompetent; only one gunman watching the crowd? With his back to the open window behind him? Please. Sure, the bank was up on the fourteenth floor, but that wouldn’t stop half the people in Arkham from climbing in anyway.
Okay, so he wasn’t in Arkham. The point still stood, as evidenced by Teleika Thaziazhsta perching like a gargoyle right behind the gunman, grinning like a barracuda.
He kind of hoped the other hostages weren’t stupid enough to draw the robbers’ attention to her, but given the way his luck usually ran, he wasn’t holding out much hope.
Teleika caught his eye and winked.
The gunman looked up, right into some damn ornamental mirror.
Teleika winked at him, too.
With lots of shouting and melodrama, the gunman turned around and fired. Teleika vanished from the windowsill.
Only to rotate back up into her previous crouch. Damn, he thought, she’s got strong fingers.
Before the gunman could fire again, Teleika punched him, and he was down and out. Served the dumbass right, for wandering that close to the window.
The other robbers came running out, but Teleika, grinning that ghastly grin and moving like she had no bones, took them all out with ease. One punch a piece.
Then she stood up straight, put on a more composed face, winked again at the slightly-unnerved hostages, and left.
Smith shrugged and went back to trying to deposit his dollar with that grin still floating in his mind.
October 8, 2008
Running.
She ran as fast as she could, stumbling a bit over the uneven terrain. The hot sun beat down; her breath came in ragged gasps. The muscles in her legs burned.
She kept running. If she could only make it to her house…
Her mother swung the door open just before she reached it, and she staggered to a halt, panting.
Lia raised one eyebrow. “Have a good workout?”
Teleika nodded, wiped the sweat from her forehead, and made a beeline for the kitchen.
April 10, 2008
The Bread You Break.
“There’s something special about food,” Lia said, throwing some peas in the pot.
“There is?” Teleika asked. She leaned across the counter, trying to read the cookbook upside-down.
“Yes,” Lia said, gently nudging her daughter out of the way. She checked the stove, then turned back to Teleika. “All food is sacred.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that. It’s sacred just by being food, and eating food, any food, just by yourself is inherently a sacred act.”
“Whether you know it or no.” Teleika fidgeted with a loose bread recipe.
“Just so.” The pot bubbled, and Lia moved to stir it.
“And if you eat it with someone else, is it more sacred?” Teleika asked.
“Sort of. It’s more like it’s sacred for two reasons.” Lia looked at her daughter expectantly.
“Well, because food and eating are sacred. But what’s the other reason?”
Lia grinned. “Because community is also inherently sacred. Come on, soup’s ready.”
Teleika sat for a moment, watching her mother take the soup out to the others, then carefully slid the loose recipe in her pocket before jumping off the stool and joining her family.
An Evening.
Nathan has this uncanny ability to fall asleep at will. One minute, he’ll be wide awake; the next, out like a light. That simile has never been more appropriate.
Right now, he’s leaning up against Ekion, and I can see the considering look in his eyes. Nathan gets this funny little look when he’s contemplating sleep; it’s the only warning he gives, really.
Ekion shifts slightly as Nathan slumps against him. Gently, he pulls Nathan around until he’s in a more comfortable position. Ekion starts to curl up around his lover; it’s almost instinct on his part.
I sigh. They’re both going to be stiff in the morning. That couch is far from comfortable.
Ekion hears me, and blinks vaguely in my direction. I stifle a giggle; Ekion sends an unfocused glare my way and drifts off into sleep himself. I wait and watch for a moment longer, then leave for bed myself.
Mother was right – Ekion and my brother really are good for each other.
Strange School.
Diplomats’ children tended to attract a great deal of attention at any school they attended; even the most unattractive of them had an exotic allure that drew flocks of followers. Nathan Thaziazhsta was hardly unattractive, but “striking” was a better description for him than “handsome”; in fact, with more ordinary coloring, he’d be considered just a little good-looking.
Predictably, he had a following. It didn’t help that he was as much a diplomat as his mother (moreso, if rumors were true); he was too polite to drive off any of his admirers.
He was canny enough to stay away from everyone, too. Until Ekion.
No one ever learned Ekion’s last name – not even the administrators. For all anyone knew, he wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t have one. He was almost certainly not lying when he said he hadn’t even wanted to attend this school, but his claims that he was actually forced to attend were too far out to be believed.
White skin, white hair – “ghostly” might have been a good description for Ekion, except that he was far too solid to be a ghost, in body and in presence. Nathan, for all his striking looks, could be quiet and overlooked when he wished. Ekion, for all his soft-spoken nature, was so focused that his mere presence sent prickles down the spine of everyone else in the room. Except Nathan.
Everyone was surprised when the two of them became friends – and yet somehow, no one was.
Plenty of people were angry, though.
***
“No one knows why the Howlers hate the Librarians so much.” Nathan rested his chin on his hand, staring out over the field.
Ekion blinked and adjusted his dark glasses. “So…a group of vampires with motorcycles routinely attack members of the most bookish club in the school?”
Nathan nodded slightly. Ekion stared at him.
“You know why, don’t you?”
Nathan glanced sidelong at his friend, then looked away again. “I have some idea.”
***
“You’re kidding.”
“You didn’t think it strange that a librarian club would be able to hold its own against vampires?”
“Psychic powers?!”
“According to some of the Howlers, the blood of psychics tastes the best. I wouldn’t know.”
“Let me get this straight. A group of vampires is targeting a group of psychic librarian wannabes because their blood tastes better than normal blood, and the librarians are holding their own against the vampires. In other words, there’s some major vampire-psychic war going on in our school.”
“Yes.”
Even sunglasses couldn’t hide Ekion’s shock. “And no one’s doing anything to stop this?”
Nathan’s cool gaze settled on Ekion. “Better them than me. For all concerned.”
***
The Howlers had always steered clear of Nathan, for one very good reason: his mother. The lure of a psychometric’s blood, however, proved irresistable.
Nathan didn’t show up for days after the attack. No one at school knew what had happened. Rumors flew. By the end of the first day, half the student body was convinced that Nathan was dead. The other half was equally certain that he’d been bitten and was now the newest member of the Howlers. By the end of the first week, half the students were convinced that the Thaziazhstai had been sent packing after Nathan’s mother killed half the Howlers. The rest of the students were sure that Ambassador Thaziazhsta was just refusing to let her son come back to school, for fear of the Howlers attacking again.
Ekion was simply frantic. He’d almost worked up the nerve to face Nathan’s fearsome mother when Nathan returned to school.
The first indication that something was wrong came when his flock rushed out to see him. Ekion, who’d long since learned to stay back or be crushed, saw the crowd halt and heard a shocked silence fall. Nathan just kept walking, ignoring everyone.
The second indication that something was wrong came when Nathan came into view. Nathan was walking with his head down and a book raised in front of his face. Nathan never hid his face.
The third indication that something was wrong came when Nathan kept walking right past Ekion, without even acknowledging his presence. Slightly hurt, Ekion followed.
“Nathan?”
Book still held in front of his face, Nathan turned. Ekion tried to tug the book down, but Nathan was stronger than he looked, and the book didn’t move.
“Nathan…”
The book wavered, and this time, when Ekion tugged at the book, Nathan released it.
The scar ran right below Nathan’s eyes.
A red haze fell across Ekion’s vision, and he turned, snarling. If any Howler’d had the misfortune to run across him, the vampire would be dead.
Nathan’s grip on Ekion’s wrist snapped Ekion out of his killer trance as it pulled him into Nathan’s mind.
***
It was a little after midnight when Teleika woke him. “Is not right outside.”
Nathan sat up. “What’s not right, imp?”
Teleika wrinkled her nose, but didn’t respond to the nickname otherwise. “Is not same-same.”
“Same-same?”
“Same as other nights.”
“Someone’s outside.” Liamariye Thaziazhsta stood just outside her son’s open door, naked sword in hand. “Several people. Not human – the tread is off. Vampires, I think. I’m going outside to take care of them. Watch your sister.” She disappeared down the hall.
Wild howls – the gang’s trademark cry – sounded outside … only to become screams of pain and rage moments later. Ambassador Thaziazhsta was on the warpath.
On instinct, Nathan grabbed his own sword – and the window crashed in behind him. Teleika shrieked. Nathan swung his sword at the same time the Howler swung his knife. Both dodged; neither dodged enough.
Sharp pain seared across Nathan’s face. The vampire, screaming, fell with Nathan’s sword in his gut and Teleika beating him about the head with her tiny fists.
Outside, vampires died or ran. Inside, Nathan tried to staunch the bleeding from his face. Teleika kicked the corpse of the one Howler who’d made it inside the house, fuming.
***
Ekion floated out of Nathan’s memories. Disoriented, he found himself being held up by Nathan. A crowd was beginning to gather – and whisper.
Nathan grimaced, though only Ekion noticed, probably. The last thing he needed were more rumors surrounding him, but at least this scene could still be steered into a better direction. No one would believe that nothing had happened here, so Ekion gave them the first plausible explanation he could think of.
As their minds meshed again, Ekion found himself swept up in mental laughter. Never tell my mother you saved my reputation by kissing me in the hallway. I’ll never live it down.
Their schoolmates were gaping; neither Ekion nor Nathan cared.
