Sunday November 9th 2014

Walking down the hallway, Elizabeth looked at her watch. Even with the hours she’d lost deciding what to wear, she’d still be early. Cesare had never seemed to care for the short skirts, tight tops, and strategic bits of coverings others drooled over. But she’d noticed his eyes never left her when she dressed in her formal clothes, skin turned pale as death and eyes shadowed by secrets both lethal and corrupt. That was when he burned for her. Not that she was in the habit of dressing for her students. But with him being in the infirmary, it couldn’t hurt to wear something special for him.

Besides, she needed to look her best for the meeting. She chose a deep blue, almost black, dress along with a crocheted layer on top. The effect was of trees that turned black in the light, skeletal branches bluing along their edges. She added a corset of electric blue, its iridescent pattern shifting with every step. A black lace blouse of shimmering black finished the flesh of a proper goth fey. It wouldn’t have suited most, but she'd spent years perfecting the style.

Lady Kali's harem guarded Cesare’s door. The Lady herself yawned from where she leaned against the wall opposite the door. Nzinga gave Elizabeth a nod of recognition as she opened the door for her and Lady Kali. A brief flare of anger swept through Elizabeth. The door should've been locked. While only the insane would challenge Lady Kali and her harem, it could happen.

Elizabeth watched as Lady Kali glided toward the bed. It was hard not to be jealous of the woman. There was a perfectness to her body. Her athletic legs looked longer than you'd think of a woman who was less than five feet tall. She should have been boyish with her small breasts, pert butt, and delicate body. Instead, with tight shirts that declared her disdain for bras coupled with liquid grace, she exuded apocalyptic sexuality. Hooking the eye and enslaving any who dared her presence, her every move burned the blood, she conjured carnal hungers with knowing eyes.

Elizabeth watched enviously as Lady Kali slipped gracefully onto the bed. It was something you missed only when it was lost. Elizabeth’s butt was big and only getting bigger with age. She even had a tummy, for Goddess’s sake. The simple grace of her childhood was flensed from her somewhere on the way to becoming middle-aged while Lady Kali's supernatural grace turned Elizabeth’s every movement into clumsy things worth only pity.

“When’s the meeting?” Cesare asked as he moved to the side of the bed.

Elizabeth reached out to help him as she answered, “Not for an hour. Should you be up?”

Face tight with pain, Cesare moved himself into the wheelchair. “The nurse said I could sponge myself down and use the bathroom.”

The two women watched him wheel himself into the bathroom with uncertain looks. After more than a half hour, Elizabeth got to her feet. He could be dead in there, gasping out his last breaths while they waited on the other side of that cursed door. She knocked hesitantly as she opened the door. “Cesare … do you need help?”

He was in front of the mirror, wet hair framing his starved, ugly face. She met his eyes in the mirror as she walked toward him, taking the brush from his hands without a word. Running the brush through his hair, a small smile tugged at her lips.

“What's wrong?” Elizabeth asked.

“I’m in a wheelchair, and even when I get back to full strength, the power of a rabbit is worthless,” Cesare said.

“You won.” His hurt smile clenched something deep inside Elizabeth.

“In almost ideal circumstances, prepared and ready, I pulled a tie—and only because he's an arrogant fuck. If he followed up after gutting me or Alexandra been slower … I wouldn't have left that clearing.” The grim words sent a surge of terror through her. He’d never seemed fragile, but she’d never run the odds on how close to the scythe he walked.

“We'll protect you,” she whispered as she ran the brush through his hair. It was darker than she remembered, auburn highlights showing crimson in the light.

Cesare sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Kali has to go back. Even now, she has things that she’s putting off to be here. Besides, she has her own loyalties. If it came down to me or Anastasia, I'd have been left in that clearing. I’m far down on her list of priorities. If she has to sacrifice to save me ... well, I'm not holding my breath.” Cesare stopped, his expression far away and uncertain.

“Alexandra seems taken with you.” Elizabeth grasped for anything to break his melancholy.

“She’s devoted to the Order of the Dragon. I'm a word away from having my head twisted off, she’d cry over it, but she’d do it. She’ll be my friend as long as I don't upset her faith, family, or Order. And Anastasia’s off the table.” Anastasia had watched while Blaez gutted him.

She met his eyes, waiting for what she knew was coming. “The kids may hate you and the faculty only tolerate you, but this is where you want to be. You could go out into the world and teach in human schools, but that’s not who you are. You won't live a lie or abandon the Umbrae Lunae.” She kept the brush steady as it ran through his hair. “If I get kicked out or have to run, you won't come with me. This place is your home and your life; it means more to you than being with me.”

No longer able to face his understanding eyes, she looked down at the brush. She couldn't protect him. It would only put him in more danger and jeopardize her job. The disgusting thing was, she wasn’t sure which mattered to her more. He was right, she loved her job. Oh, she hated the kids, but she knew she was helping them. Even if they hated her, they still had to deal with her, and that was a start for her race. Shame was nothing new to her, but it hurt that he’d given her so much, and she couldn’t give him anything.

So, like the coward she was, she changed the subject. “Few of us change daily.”

Cesare smiled and leaned back into her brush stokes, willing to be led away from razored truths. “Why do you have human shapes?”

It hurt, Goddess it hurt, that he was so willing to let her off the hook. He would die for them; she knew that without doubt. He would give his life and endure being gutted as the price of having them as friends, but she wouldn’t threaten her career for him. Guilt and shame roiled through her stomach, making her want to throw up just to get it out. Pushing it down with effort, she smiled at her friend.

He’d shown her more care and love than anyone and she betrayed him every day she watched him walk the razor’s edge. He would leave this place if she asked him to. She could make a home for them where they could live without the threat of him being killed. And yet, she wouldn’t do it.

It broke her heart that he loved them so much more than they loved him. “Some always had human forms, but most were given one at the end of the Cleansing War.” Seeing his blank expression, she continued, “When the humans came, the Umbrae Lunae were already here. Humans were taken and used, meat, blood, fear, labor, sex, we harvested them for their assets. After hundreds of years of being bred as food, YHVH sent his angels to protect his children. This was the beginning times when all was red in tooth and claw, the time of the Immortals and centuries after the Gods War. The angels freed the humans, gathered them into hidden cells in forgotten places of the world and protected them until the Cleansing War came.”

“Most of the Umbrae Lunae banded together to war with the humans and their angels. Only the oldest God still walked the land, and it refused the genocide. When the war was in full swing, this Elder God came down and sided with the humans, murdering armies of Umbrae Lunae in unquenched savagery. At the end of the war, the Elder God gave granted a blessing to the Umbrae Lunae. It gave them the Mendacium. No matter how smart humans get or what tools they have, the God’s gift hides our true nature. The blessing lasts to this day, making it possible for us to hide.”

The room went quiet. “Today we hide our truth, even from each other. As humans dominate more of the world, our truth is twisted into the grotesque. Tainted by the world we grow into, we find only loathing when we see our truth in flesh, the cruel glory of the malicious dreams that birthed us bring only disgust to our civilized eyes. Some refuse to change at all, completely turning their backs on their race.”

After finishing brushing his hair, she took the handles of the wheelchair. Still fixed on the earlier conversation, he took control away from her and wheeled himself out. Lady Kali looked up from where she sat on the bed as they came in. Alexandra waited by the bathroom door, eyeing Elizabeth's placement behind Cesare.

“Anastasia,” Lady Kali said. “What are your plans for her?”

Cesare’s hands tensed along the arms of the wheelchair. “I told you yesterday. I plan to get her off.”

“Plans change, deals made yesterday don't always survive the night. She watched while he gutted you.”

Cesare shook his head. “Nothing’s changed. I still plan to protect her.”

Lady Kali smiled as she stood. “What you will bleed for yesterday becomes nothing but air today. I needed to be sure we’re still on the same page.” She carried the hardness in her eyes as she left.

“How dare she?” Alexandra burst out. “After all you've done for Anastasia, how can she think you'd turn on the akatharton bitch now?” Anger stripped her of the lie she lived, flesh wasting away, revealing razor sharp features. A cadaverous death’s head with needle-pointed fangs shining in fluorescent light. Raw physical power rolled off her, eyes burning with insatiable hunger. Fear curled up Elizabeth's spine. If the others could see her now …

“And if it was the Order of the Dragon on trial?” Cesare's arch comment stopped Alexandra.

“That's different,” Alexandra protested weakly.

“Only different in your mind. She’s fighting for her daughter. She knows I can get her expelled in disgrace. She's a mother who loves her daughter, willing to do whatever it takes to save her. Can you say you'd do less for your child? Or the Order?” It was shocking, the easy way Cesare controlled the vampire.

“But she was going to pull her out over the fight with the wendigo.”

“Being pulled out of a fight you can't win isn't getting expelled in disgrace. She's worried because she loves her daughter, so she's being a bitch.” Cesare shrugged as if it were just a fact of life. Only Elizabeth saw the pain he hid deep in the back of his eyes. It hurt that what he’d said in the bathroom had come true so soon after he’d said it. When it had come down to it, Lady Kali wasn't willing to support him.

“And what about you? What do you ... care for?” Alexandra asked tentatively.

Cesare kept his eyes on the door. “Only you girls.”

Alexandra stood frozen, still as the dead, captured by the eyes of the broken boy in front of her. She didn’t blink, not a muscle moved, not a breath stirred her chest. His words struck something deep within her. Fury and death flowed out of her face as humanity surged back into the void left where truth had breathed.

Elizabeth grasped the handles of the wheelchair and pushed him out of the room. Cesare laid his hand over Elizabeth's while looking up into her eyes. “I'm sorry about earlier.”

“Don't be, it was the truth.”

Outside the infirmary, Elizabeth glared at the stairs. Primrose didn’t have access ramps, those too weak to take the stairs fed the strong long before they became teenagers. Smirking, Alexandra took the wheelchair from her, lifting it easily as she carried it down the stairs.

“How are you able to do that? Your center of gravity should make it wonky.” Cesare asked, eager for anything to keep his mind off his helplessness.

“Sanguinem Scientiam, the Blood Arts. Vampires can secure ourselves to floors, ceilings, anything with more mass than us.” Pushing him along the path, she ignored Elizabeth's attempt to take back the handles.

“Give me a place to stand and a lever, and I’ll move the world.” He got questioning looks from the women at the quiet words. “Just a quote I like. I'm guessing that kind of power’s useful in a fight.”

Alexandra grinned. “You bet. Nothing like someone thinking they can bull through only to end up hitting a wall.”

The Mistress’s office was at the top of the tallest tower. Alexandra locked down the wheels on the chair and, with casual strength, picked it up and started climbing. Sighing, Elizabeth glared at the stairs and followed the vampire up at a much slower pace. It only took one flight for Elizabeth to start cursing the backward school, and the Mistress in particular. She wasn't built for this kind of climbing; she was a teacher, not a sherpa. By the fifth staircase, sweat slicked her face and dripped down her back. She had to stop cursing because she needed the air.

Elizabeth held onto the rail, gulping great lungful’s of air. It was just like life to do this to her, to make her look like a winded cow next to the sleek power of Alexandra. Elizabeth just knew Sarah wasn’t gasping after only a few landings. Not that bitch. She probably flowed up the stairs without a bead of sweat.

While she’d cursed the gods of anaerobic exercise, Alexandra had stopped at the next landing. Setting Cesare down, she kept one hand possessively on the chair. Only then did she look back with a slight smirk. “Need a minute?” the vampire asked.

Alexandra wasn’t even sweating, let alone gasping for breath like a beached whale. Elizabeth kept her words to herself, but only because she didn't have the breath to bitch. After resting, she nodded at Alexandra and started back up with a vow to start exercising as soon as she could.

Alexandra and Cesare waited at the final landing for her. The space was only bare stone with a weathered door, but it was the last barrier before you entered the waiting room. Elizabeth slumped after she ascended the final step, sweat rolling off her face in small drips, legs burning with pain, and a crick in her back that was quickly turning into a major problem. She firmly laid aside thoughts of having to go back down the devil stairs.

“I thought gardening would keep me in some kind of shape.” The complaint was more plaintive than Elizabeth liked.

“That shape would be round,” Alexandra said dryly. Elizabeth glowered at the young, fit, beautiful, non-sweaty or gasping ... Yeah, if she went any further, there’d be a fight.

Cesare smiled at Elizabeth. “You’re not a sports car, you’re a luxury model.” The raw joy in his voice stripped away some of the shame she felt at the humiliation of climbing the stairs, but not her hate of Alexandra’s comment.

“I really should exercise. This is ...” She shook her head, not liking the words that came to mind.

“That's up to you, but I think you’re perfect,” Cesare said.

She straightened, shaking the thoughts away. They had more important things to deal with than her fat ass. “Well, my midlife crisis can wait.”

Beyond the door, the walls and floor of the room were raw, brutal gray stone. A cold chill saturated the room, tendrils worming into the weak meat that dared its confines. Insulated from the outside by over a foot of stone, the room was tomb quiet without a window to break up the unworked stone. There were no chairs or tables to detract from the ebony door standing as the gateway to the Mistress.

The others had already carved the room into personal territories. Lady Kali winked from the far wall, eyes running over Cesare with covetous hunger. Anastasia gave one quick look before folding in on herself against the wall next to her mother.

Blaez and his parents occupied the opposite wall across from the akathartons. Troy's slicked back hair accented a face of hard angles, dark suit flattering broad shoulders and a narrow waist. Kelly’s hair was drawn back behind her ears, leaving sharp eyes clear. Lean muscle and soft curves were clothed in a suit of black, far from sexual, she shone with clean professionalism. A kinetic stillness swirled around the two, violence kept leashed by steely will.

After seeing Blaez gouging out his own flesh, Elizabeth knew he was hurt. A werewolf could heal almost instantly from anything short of decapitation and silver, of the two, they’d rather be decapitated. Only red-veined eyes peeked out of the bandages around his head. His hands were wrapped in white, without a sliver of charred meat showing. The black suit was lumpy from multiple compresses. Tremors of pain tore through the wolf as he fought a never ending battle to stay upright, a low tremble marking the tortured earthquakes wracking his flesh. He rode the edge of collapse, only pride kept him going.

Abraxas and Pantagruel stood beside the wolf in a sign of solidarity. The dragon's eyes were half lidded, his breathing slow and controlled. Pantagruel slumped back against the wall, his bored eyes roaming over the others in the room.

Jerold stood straight as an arrow in the center of the room between the two parties, his cold eyes moving between them. Sarah's hand rested on her boyfriend’s arm as she laughed at some joke she’d made.

The room went quiet at her appearance, a deadly thing of barbed hate and murderous need. They eyed Elizabeth warily as she held the door open for Alexandra to wheel Cesare inside. The vampire slowed as her eyes swept the room, unsure where to go. A slight gesture from Cesare directed her to Lady Kali.

Lady Kali ran a hand gently through his hair as soon as he was close enough to touch, settling her hand at the base of his neck. On Lady Kali’s other side, Anastasia seemed to collapse more into herself. “Decided to join me?” The light teasing was a play to loosen the tension in the room, or maybe to make up for the earlier scene.

Cesare closed his mouth as he locked on Blaez's father making his way across the room. Jerold stopped his comment to Sarah in mid-word as they tracked Troy with their eyes. A werewolf’s nature was wild, no one could predict them. It left the saner races nervous, never sure if today would be the day they’d have to put it down.

Alexandra stepped slightly in front of Cesare. It wasn’t enough to block Cesare’s line of sight, but it would let her body check the dog if he made a move for Cesare. Lady Kali watched the elder wolf with malicious interest, fingers caressing across the back of Cesare’s neck.

Troy glided across the room with the grace of a killer. He was a man who'd fought in court and war, had slaughtered his way to the top of a pack in a city famed for its murderous politics. The wolf met the vampire's eyes without a ghost of fear. He was everything his son wasn’t—confidant, powerful, and canny enough to know a lost battle before fighting it. He wasn’t about to get killed to prove his inches.

“That's close enough,” Alexandra said quietly.

Troy matched eyes with the vampire. “And who are you to stop me, child?” He thrummed with violence, ready to erupt.

“Alexandra Dracul, Squire of the Order of the Dragon, Daughter to Vlad Tepes Dracul, Grand Master of the Order of the Dragon.” Alexandra's words hammered through the air, each a declaration of lethal threat.

The two stood in the relaxed languidness of soldiers deciding on a kill. The tension in the room tightened around them, threads of hate pulling the world into crystal focus. Blaez and his mother watched intently, waiting for Troy's answer. Jerold and Sarah moved to keep both groups in sight. The tension leaked out of the two fighters, a challenge deferred for another time, submission granted in the ducking of the wolfs eyes. Troy looked down at Cesare in the wheelchair with a satisfied smile playing across his lips.

“I'm glad you’re in that chair. My only regret is that you’re not in the ground.” Delivered with casual hate, it would have broken most kids. Cesare relaxed with a smile, the hate in the man’s words relaxing something in his soul.

“Well, I can't say I’m not thrilled to see your dog fucker of a son bandaged like a mummy,” Cesare said with an insolent smile. He almost wished the wolf would go for his throat. The wolf might be quick enough to kill him, but Troy would never survive the backlash from Lady Kali and the others.

Pain and hate warped Troy’s face into something demonic before he visibly chained his fury. “All you had to do was walk away. And all this …” He gestured toward the people waiting. “… wouldn’t have happened. All this suffering and blood would have just been a maybe. All you had to do was leave when he told you to.”

“And if your son had the brains of a stone, he would've called a teacher instead of thinking with his cock.” Cesare measured the wolf with his eyes. “All he had to do was think it through. What did he expect would happen if he won? I'm dead. Great, now he can fuck Anastasia all he wants, but did he think past that? Did he think of how to hide my body? Or what he would do to keep Anastasia quiet? She didn’t have a problem watching him gut me like a pig but I think she’d have told someone Blaez killed me.”

Troy shook his head. “Why? You could have left. Were two stones worth this?” He gestured at Cesare’s wheelchair.

“Are two stones worth it? No. But my friendship with Alexandra is.”

Troy looked over at Alexandra with a sneer. “You think the vampire will stand with you? She won't. Her kind never do. The Order serves the Order, first and last. They don’t bleed for us boy, they only die for their God.”

Cesare shrugged, the simple movement birthing a jagged lance of pain through his body. “It doesn't matter. I’ll pay the price of her betrayal, for her friendship now. Isn’t that the price of every friendship?”

“My son is scarred for life. He’ll never be the same. Not on the inside or, Odin knows, the outside. He's lost his pack. He's lost his innocence. I held him as he cried himself to sleep.” Troy gathered himself, threads of corruption snaking through his face as fury fought with control. “You hurt my son beyond anything he should have faced. And you did it for ... vampire pussy. You killed part of my son for a piece of ass.” He glared down at Cesare, his suit straining to hold him as muscles writhed on the edge of the change.

“Your son's a piece of shit who gets a hard-on by beating kids. He fucks girls when he wants and drops them just as quickly. He sent his pack to hurt me and when I fought back, he blamed me for it.” Cesare watched Troy with uncaring eyes. “Your son is a vile thing who I’d rather see dead. He won't grow up to be a better man, just a stronger bully. I don't care if he's broken and scarred. I only made him as ugly on the outside as he was on the inside.” Troy took one step forward. Alexandra rose onto the balls of her feet, a hair from butchering the dog where he stood.

“He was following orders. Two pieces of stone, that's all. Maybe he should have gotten a teacher, but this isn’t worth old stones,”

“If a man tried to rape your wife, would it be worth fighting for?” Cesare asked. “That altar means just as much to Alexandra. I don't know why, and I don't care. All I know is she loves them, and if you don't stand for what your friends love, you’re not their friend.”

Troy spun on his heel, anger bled off the man as he rejoined his family. Alexandra kept her eyes trained on him until he reached the far wall. “I won't betray you.” Utter conviction infused Alexandra’s voice.

“Betrayal's what friends do. You’ll betray me, and I’ll betray you. The proof of a friendship isn’t whether you betray your friend but what you do when it happens. You only really know a friend after they’ve carved their name across your soul in bloody letters,” Cesare said quietly.

The ebony door swung open in silent command. Jerold and Sarah disappeared into the room while the others shared worried looks.

Like the outside, the gray stone was left as it had been born. Only one window broke up the cell-like room, without glass, the unworked hole let in an icy wind that swirled around barren space. The Mistress stared at the group from behind a stone desk that blended into the room. The stones pulsed with the heartbeat of her power, a crushing weight felt in mind and soul. Elizabeth had never liked the Mistress. It was a soulless thing that belonged in a grave, not staining the earth with its diseased life. An abomination born from an atavistic reality dead long before the gods had slithered from the abyss.

Its presence bared its fangs in ether, demanding submission, forcing them to bare their proverbial throats to a power they couldn’t hope to match. From the bloodthirsty wolves to the arrogant dragon, all were held in its ruthless grip.

All except for Lady Kali and Elizabeth. Of the Immortals, Lady Kali and the Mistress were the oldest and arguably the most powerful. The two ancients acknowledged each other with nods of respect. Only then did the Mistress give her attention to the lesser beings in the room.

It had taken long years of seeing the Mistress in person before Elizabeth could push the crippling feeling of terror aside and see the Mistress for what it was. Angular in body and face, she would never be called pretty. One could only say she was intimidating and, if they were generous, striking. It was her eyes that killed first, black sucking voids that pulled at the soul, imbued with an unquenchable hunger kept in check by a fragile barrier of will. Her pale skin and ebony hair fell away into insignificant next to those horrifying holes in reality.

“Before I delve into this incident, a few have requested permission to give opening remarks. Lady Kali, you have the floor.” Her voice was the frozen wasteland of the void between stars, a soulless thing devoid of empathy or understanding, knowing only sterile death and unending hunger.

Lady Kali stepped forward, drawing all eyes to her. “Thank you, Lady of the Void. This incident is a shame on my family. I don’t come here to demand or seek advantage for my daughter. I come to lay my support behind Cesare. He speaks for me and mine,” Lady Kali said formally.

“It is noted that Cesare the damnati speaks for Anastasia and Lady Kali, with all the privileges and responsibilities that it confers.” Lady Kali stepped back at the Mistress’s words. “Troy Strand, I give you the floor.”

Rattled by Lady Kali's words, Blaez’s parents shared a look before Troy stepped forward. Unable to meet the horrors eyes, the wolf locked his legs under her punishing attention. A bead of blood traced down his face as his soul was skinned by inches. Muscles jumped as the wolf mastered the beast of his soul that howled in pain and terror. “We all regret that this incident happened, I think we can agree that we’re all happy it didn’t end in the death of a student. Primrose was founded on helping the Umbrae Lunae achieve their potential. Since its founding, accidents like this have happened. It’s sadly the case that our vibrant natures get the better of us, especially the boys. We know that they’ll fight and that’s one of the reasons the Thagirion was created. In performance of his duties, my son lost his temper and did something reprehensible. He changed and attacked another student with the intent to kill.” Troy paused, letting it sink in that he wasn’t defending his son’s actions.

“Wasn’t Primrose founded to help him learn to control these impulses? While we may hate that this has happened, isn’t it better he has these lapses here rather than in the human world? Here, you can teach him to control himself so as not to put the entire Umbrae Lunae in jeopardy. If we cut him loose, don’t we create a time bomb waiting to explode? And in creating that time bomb, aren’t we culpable for his crimes?” Troy looked around, meeting the eyes of everyone before rejoining his wife and son.

The Mistress looked at Abraxas. “Tell me your part in the incident.”

Normally self-possessed and in control, the dragon swallowed nervously. His eyes flicked to the horrors before darting away in terror. Trembling owned his flesh as his body broke down under her punishing eyes. Pupils went vertical as the dragon called on his truth, desperation riding him hard. Falling to one knee, blood dribbled from his nose as his words croaked out of a strangled throat. “Alexandra has pushed more and more of her religion to the students … praying over meals, talking about it after class, using it as a foundation for her assignments. At first, we tried to dissuade her from these activities. However, she persisted. We’ve worked hard to keep the gangs in check and Blaez has been instrumental in that. But we've struggled to control the isolated students with personal grudges. My fear was, and is, that they will attack Alexandra and she’ll retaliate with deadly force. Since I can't control the masses, I sought a means to control the variable I could ... Alexandra. By taking the altar, I would own the leverage I needed to force her to scale back her activities and prevent bloodshed on campus.”

The Mistress showed neither approval or anger as Abraxas detailed his plans to blackmail another student. “I instructed Blaez and Anastasia to confiscate the altar so we could use it as ransom for Alexandra’s good behavior. At no time did I give permission to attack Cesare or deface the altar,” Abraxas finished.

Dead eyes turned on Anastasia. “Daughter of Lady Kali, what was your part in this?”

Anastasia wetted dry lips before she spoke, her voice little more than a whisper of shame. Shaking under its eyes, a low whine of pain slipped from her lips. Her knees quivered as her mind cracked under the weight of the creature's attention. Falling to her knees, she ducked her head, blood dotting the ground from eyes of weeping blood. “We got the orders and set out. The protections recognized us as Thagirion and we entered the clearing. Blaez offered to let Cesare go, but Cesare turned him down, demanding a teacher be called. I knew he was out of control, but I couldn’t' think of a way to calm him. From the moment he saw Cesare in the clearing ... only blood would satisfy the wolf.”

“Cesare threw some kind of noise thing he’d prepared. It hit Blaez hard after only a few steps, blood dripping from his ears. When Cesare started winning the fight, Blaez lost control and changed. At that point Cesare turned as if he were running away, but when he turned back around, he had something in his hand. Suddenly, Cesare was on the ground with ... things ... spilling out of him and Blaez was burning, bits of molten metal sparking from him.” Tears ran unheeded down her face as she finished.

“Blaez Strand, I would like your testimony now,” the Mistress ordered.

He stepped forward with a voice that was sandpaper drawn over bloody flesh. Falling to his knees, a low, keening cry came from him. Pain turned to torture, his soul breaking under a reality beyond its grasp. Blood bloomed in the bandages of his face as stitches ripped under his face’s contortions. “It's like Anastasia said, we arrived and Cesare was there. I won't lie, I don't like the guy and was happy he was there. I asked him to step aside, and he told me he would if I got a teacher. I should have. Looking back, I can see that. But I hated, no, I hate him, and this was the perfect time to get my licks in. So, I refused. He put down those sound things, and the closer I got, the more my balance was off. Then he started winning, breaking me down, and I … lost it. After that, it's all images and pain.” By now, his voice was only a serrated croak. “I know I screwed up, Mistress. And I know you have every right to expel me, but I hope you can give me another chance.”

“Cesare the damnati, who speaks for Lady Kali, I’m ready to hear your testimony,” the Mistress said.

He faced the abomination, bloody tears tracing the ugly planes of his face, carving their paths along the hard bones of his starved face. His hands tightened on the wheelchair, knuckles popping in pain as he clenched the rests with brutal strength. “I heard about the raid on the altar from some boys in the dormitory. The clearing was empty when I got there, giving me time to prepare. When they arrived, I asked for a teacher and Blaez told me to fuck off. I could have walked away, but I chose to fight. The others have recounted the fight, so I won’t go into details. I’d hoped that the sound would discourage him, but he decided different. When he changed, I knew it was over. But if I was going down, I was taking him with me. I didn't think I’d live through it, but I'm glad I did,” Cesare said.

“You’re the victim, what would you like for recompense.” The Mistress had yet to change her expression. But expressions, like emotions, were for lesser beings.

“Blaez is a tool. You don't blame a sword for cutting. No, you blame the hand holding the blade. Abraxas either knew about Blaez’s hate for me, in which case he knew this would happen, or he was so out of touch with his subordinate that he’s incompetent as a leader. That’s who’s to blame. Not Blaez for following his nature by being a sadistic bully. Not Anastasia for being stuck between protecting a student or attacking her boyfriend. We need to look at those giving the orders, and that's Abraxas.”

“Blaez is the one who lost his temper. Blaez was the one to eviscerate you. How could this be Abraxas’s fault?” It showed little to no curiosity at Cesare’s answer.

“He should have foreseen it. Instead, he sent a bully looking for a fight. It's no secret the dog has a temper, and the school knows he hates me. But even with that information, Abraxas sent him when he knew I’d be involved.”

“You still haven’t told me what you want,” stated the Mistress.

“I want Anastasia as second in command of the Thagirion.” Anastasia gasped, counterpointed by Blaez’s growl. While the rank wasn’t used much, that didn’t mean it didn’t exist. It would put Anastasia above the other Thagirion, in theory at least. “I want someone inside the Thagirion that I trust to make sure they don’t come for me. And I want Jerold to oversee the Thagirion,” Cesare said evenly.

Lancing pain pierced through Elizabeth at Cesare’s words. Why Jerold and not her? Didn't he trust her? It didn't make sense. The only reason she could see why he wouldn’t want her was because when push came to shove, he thought Jerold would watch his back—that he was a better teacher, a stronger person.

“You seek no punitive action against Blaez?” The question brought the wolves on point. It was what the wolves wanted, but it worried them too. They’d expected Cesare would demand Blaez’s skin.

Cesare shrugged painfully. “I don't hold him as responsible as I do Abraxas. Besides, he’ll bear the scars of my vengeance for the rest of his life—both on his body and soul. I'm satisfied with that.”

“I agree to your terms. Anastasia, daughter of Lady Kali, is second in command of the Thagirion with all the power that entails. Jerold, you oversee the Thagirion. I expect an active interest in their activities.” The dismissal sent them flooding out of the room. There were no appeals, no arguments. Her authority was a god’s divine right.

As soon as the door shut behind them, the wolves turned on Cesare. Alexandra flashed into place in front of the wheelchair, a barrier of killing temper. Lady Kali set herself beside his chair, black flames flickering around her hands, faced etched in lines of venomous hate. Elizabeth moved to the other side, the stones of the tower answering her call with a base rumble of warning that staggered everyone.

Troy and Kelly stopped, spreading their arms wide. Not coincidentally, shielding their son with their bodies. “We’re not trying to start a fight.” Troy's easy words were wedded to a smile.

“You can talk from there,” Alexandra commanded. Suspicious and paranoid, she was possessive of Cesare’s safety. After having come so close to losing him, she was willing to wash the room in blood to never go there again.

“Okay. I want to thank you for what you did for my son. It goes a long way to fixing the bad blood between us.”

Alexandra moved slightly to the side, allowing Cesare to face the man. “Your son is a sadistic bastard who thinks with his dick. I’d rather see him as a wolf skin rug than alive, but the price was too high today. I don't want your thanks or your gratitude. I didn't do it for you. Now, fuck off out of the way.” Cesare's words erased the smile on Troy's face.

“Fine. You hate my son, but that doesn't give you the right to insult me.” Anger lit the man's eyes.

“Your son’s still your son. He tortures kids because he enjoys it. Loves the power he has when he savages children who can't fight for themselves. He has the honor of a dog in heat but with less brains. You’re his parents, it's your job to help him be a decent person. If he's a failure, it's partly your fault. You share responsibility for every drop of pain that goes to feed his ego, and every shattered person he leaves in his wake. Instead of facing the fact that your son's a monster and dealing with it like adults, you hide your head in the sand and pretend he’s a golden boy. You're contemptible.”

Rage swirled around the three wolves as they stalked out of the room. Abraxas and Pantagruel had already left, and Anastasia had slipped out in the middle of the smack talking. Sighing, Elizabeth faced her greatest nemesis ... the stairs.

Elizabeth was pathetically grateful that Alexandra took the stairs slowly. Lady Kali was right beside Elizabeth, glaring at the stairs with red hot hate. Neither enjoyed the archaic idea of having an office at the top of a tower without an elevator.

As they reached the ground, Elizabeth couldn’t keep it inside any longer. “Why not have me oversee the Thagirion?”

Cesare looked puzzled for a second. “Jerold will dig into every shady deal they make and whisper of corruption. While you'd be better at it, and I'd trust you more, I won't put you under their punishing insults or smeared by their failures. I won't see others hurt you, no matter what it buys me.”

Lady Kali stepped up next to his chair. “I was surprised at Anastasia's promotion.”

“I have too much time invested in Anastasia to throw her away. Shame at her actions will turn into gratefulness at my continued support.” Cesare glanced over at Lady Kali. “But you knew that. So why ask?”

“I know you have plans for her. But I think you’re also doing this for her. Otherwise, I’d stop you.” Lady Kali tried to take the sting out of the words with a smile.

“She wants power, and she’ll get it. I just want her to know who her friends are when she gets there.” Cesare’s fingers tapped along the armrests of his wheelchair. “Has she always been like that?”

“The Mistress?” Lady Kali asked continuing before Cesare could nod. “You hear it every now and then, someone calling a person a force of nature. They say they’re like lightning or a hurricane. Have you ever wondered what something like that would really be like? What would a bolt of lightning care about love or hate? What would a hurricane feel for children? The Lady of the Void isn’t like anything you’ll ever face. She’s like the sun, uncaring as it burns the world, pure power given form.” She gave Cesare a grim look. “Don't get in her way. Don't play games with her, and don't cross her. Nothing besides a god can stand against her.”

It was more than Elizabeth had ever heard about the Mistress. The Mistress had been around for so long that tales had turned into myth. No one knew what she was: akatharton, dragon, or something stranger. As far as what she could do, the tales were more make believe than reality. The only person who might know was Lady Kali.

“What kind of force of nature are we talking about?” Cesare asked with a sly smile.

Lady Kali laughed with dancing eyes. “I can't give you all my secrets. But I’ll give you this. There is nothing and no one like the Lady of the Void.” The cryptic comment silenced Cesare as his face fell into thought.

“I’ll be leaving in the next hour. This will be the last time I see you for some time.”

“You can still send letters,” Cesare suggested.

Lady Kali's fingers traced over his face before she turned and walked away. Her harem came from out of the trees, falling into place around her with covetous eyes. Lady Kali's walk changed as they surrounded her, power shrouding her in god-like confidence, a surety of purpose that enslaved any who dared her reach.

“She didn't say goodbye,” Alexandra whispered.

“She can't stay no matter what she wants. Not just because of her business, but because Anastasia will never grow into who she wants to be with her mother here to bail her out. None of that makes it easier to walk away from those you love when they’re hurt.” Cesare said.