The Human Enemy’s Land, Eleven Hundred Years BeforeThaelen sifted into consciousness off and on, hearing voices, the groans of wooden wheels over rough terrain, the creak and scrape of armour, and the huff of horses. It was his hunger that woke him, the gnawing thirst scraping its fingernails along his tongue and throat, squeezing his stomach, beading his skin with sweat. A journey of many days, for the hunger to grow to such an extent. How long did it take for a vampire to starve to death? He did not know, but he knew that the suffering was intense.He was in a wooden box, wrists and ankles chained - the mark of the One God engraved in the cuffs. His body ached in a way that he had never before experienced, the effort of raising his shaking hands to press against the lid of the box in which he lay almost too great to manage, his bones aching, his lungs heavy.A spell, Inora had said. What manner of spell could render a vampire so weak? What sort of witch would create such a thing kn
The Human Enemy’s Land, Eleven Hundred Years BeforeThe human man remained in the farthest corner of the cell away from Thaelen, huddled in on himself, his skin growing paler and his shaking worse as the night progressed towards the morning. Thaelen sat, his elbows on his knees and his head resting against the wall, watching him through narrowed eyes and wondering at which point his hunger would drive him mad.“Do you have a name?” Thaelen’s voice was a hoarse whisper, his mouth and throat so desiccated that speaking was painful. His breath steamed on the bitterly cold air.“Not that it matters… Gera,” the human was shaking so hard he stuttered his words.“Gera, you are dying,” Thaelen told him. “You know this, do you not?”Gera’s moan was wretched.“I need for you to live,” Thaelen said through his teeth. His clothing was starting to dry, but he was bitterly cold. The cold would not kill him, he knew, but it was very painful to endure. “If you die, I die also. You need me to live, as
Havermouth, Three Weeks BeforeThe days between passed the same way. Heath would wake alone in his bed and lay staring at the ceiling, telling himself that it was going to be the day. He would get up, dress in his gym clothes, take his suit in its drycleaning bag to the car with him and drive to the only gym in Havermouth and the same one that he’d been a member of since he’d been old enough to lift weights, and work out for an hour, before showering, shaving and dressing in the change rooms.He'd stop by the Boyston’s coffee shop for a protein shake and a coffee on his way to the office and make inane conversation with Diana whilst he waited for her to fill his order. He’d take his coffee and his shake to his office and open his laptop, reviewing the calendar for the day, before, unable to resist temptation any longer, he’d open the office emails and search from something from Aislen Carter or Morgana Ivy.The envelope of paperwork and Patrick Carter’s personal effects sat in his tra
Havermouth, Three Weeks Before Cameron had just parked his Ute on the main street of town when his phone began to ring. Heath. He answered absently as he got out of the cab. “I’m just going for a run,” he told his mate without greeting. “I’ll grab something for dinner when I’m done. I know we need milk.” “I didn’t call about groceries,” Heath replied, and his tone of voice froze Cameron midway through closing the car door, his heart leaping within his chest. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, what that tone of voice meant. “She’s back,” Cameron breathed into the phone. “Yes.”“What is she… what is she like?” Cameron asked leaning back against the car, his strength seeming to seep through his body and out the soles of his feet like water. Was she sorry, he meant. Was she sorry for leaving them, was she ready…? “Have you got her there?” He started to open the door, intending to go to them. “No,” Heath hesitated. “She’s… It’s hard to know, Cam. I don’t know.” “What do you mean, y
Havermouth, Three Weeks BeforeThe Triquetra lingered over their wine. Heath and Cameron had both detailed their encounters with Aislen and they had dissected every word she had said, every gesture, every expression between them.“So,” Rhett swirled the last of his wine around the inside of the glass. “Basically, she hasn’t changed at all. She’s still a smart mouthed bitch with a chip on her shoulder and an attitude.”“Yeah,” Cameron’s grin was wide. “Except she’s even sexier now. Wait until you see her, Rhett. You’re going to come in your jeans.”Heath leaned back in his chair. “We have time. The funeral isn’t until Friday. She’s not going anywhere until then.”“So, my turn?” Rhett wondered and saw Cameron and Heath exchange a look between them. He sighed heavily. “You’re f-king kidding me, right? She basically told Cameron to f-k off and she didn’t exactly throw herself into your arms either, Heath, but you’d have me, what, not see her at all? Because you’re jealous that she - ”“Rh
Havermouth Present TimeAislen’s voice caught Heath’s attention and he turned to look across the room, to the open door of the office that had become Rhett’s cage. Heath’s mates were in the process of transforming the office into a bedroom for the five of them but had broken off their activity whilst Aislen argued with Rhett.“She wants to come,” Leighton observed looking up from the map of Havermouth that he had spread over a table in his workspace.“She does,” Heath agreed. Rhett was shaking his head, obviously agreeing with Cameron and Heath that it was simply too dangerous. “She’s always been f-king stubborn,” he added with a sigh. “Trouble from the moment we met her.”Leighton raised his eyebrows but looked down at the map without commenting on the argument. “Here would be the best route for us,” he traced it on the map.“I am assuming that you can move with stealth when needed,” Heath slid a look at the other man. He was fascinated by the confliction in his mind, the layering of
Havermouth, Present TimeHeath stalked the shadows, feeling the breeze ruffle his fur as he paused to sniff the air. The carpark around the hospital was hidden beneath white tents that fluttered and shifted in constant movement. To get within the tent-city and the hospital beyond it, however, he had to pass the barricade – the road lit by floodlights, black 4WDs bottlenecking the road into a spike-strip. Keeping people out, not in, Heath thought. If the hospital were overrun with infected, surely their efforts would be directed the other way.“Help!” Talen’s voice rang out in the night, and Heath’s attention jerked to the road, his heart staggering to a panicked halt as the vampire ran towards the barricade carrying Aislen in his arms. He could smell blood, and Aislen clutched her hand to her neck.The soldiers broke from the barricade to surround Talen as he approached.“She is bleeding!” Talen’s voice rose over the soldiers enquiries. “She needs medical care.”Heath was frozen. What
The Human Enemy’s Land, Eleven Hundred Years Before“Her name is Lady Beupraxia,” Gera sat at Thaelen’s side, shoulder to shoulder, sharing body heat between them and watching the rats scurry across the floor. He flicked his foot when a rat drew too close.“Don’t scare it off,” Thaelen recommended. They both stilled as they heard the familiar footfalls of the guards, the creak of their armour and the rattle of their keys distinct within the dungeon noises. They waited to see where the guards would go, and heard a scuffle and yelling as they dragged a prisoner out of his cell. For a prisoner to fight to remain in the cell meant that the destination was worse, Thaelen thought grimly.“It will bite us whilst we sleep, and it’s crawling with disease,” Gera protested as the sounds retreated, his attention still on the curious rat.“It is food, and its blood is liquid which you can drink.”” Thaelen replied watching as the rat paused to wash it’s face before following the wall to slip out of
Havermouth, Present Time Aislen hit her head hard on the floorboards and lay for a moment with white noise ringing in her ears, staring sightlessly up at the beams of the roof. Her entire body ached. She could feel the sharp sting of the cuts across her torso and the wetness of her blood, and she knew that she was dying. She groaned and put her hand to her chest, surprised to encounter cloth and not skin, and lifted her hand, wondering at how it was not covered in blood and what the black chalkiness was that stained her skin. She slowly lowered her chin to her chest. There were no wounds. Oh, yeah, she wasn’t the one bleeding... The thoughts rolled through her mind in slow motion, as if she was thinking through treacle. “Shit,” she groaned. “Heath!” Where were her mates? “Cameron, and Talen,” she whispered, closing her eyes and then opening them again, her vision focusing, the beams coming into focus. She was on the floor of Leighton’s workspace, she realized, and recalled the salt
Havermouth, Present TimeCameron cried out and threw his arms around Rhett, gripping him tightly before catching his face between his hand and kissing him with a thoroughness that left Rhett breathless until the bathroom door suddenly opened, and he released him out of habit, both men breathing heavily as they stared at the startled intruder.“Ah, sorry,” Will Peters was wide eyed. “I can wait…” He backed out letting the door swing shut behind him.“Shit. Oh well, I’m not hiding anymore,” Cameron shrugged, turning back to Rhett, and pulling him back into his arms. “I’m so happy to see you. And you’re looking so much better. Skinny. But better.”“Wow, Cam,” Rhett laughed. “I should come to the rescue more often. Hey there’s power on here!” He added squinting up at the neon lights. “Who would have thought I’d be happy to see the flicker of neon again.”“Did Aislen send you?” Cameron asked, leaning back in order to look at him. “Did she do one of those portal thingies? Where’s Heath? And
Havermouth, Two Weeks BeforeHeath Gale and Rhett Salem, Talen turned the names over in his mind as he reviewed the details that Tony had sent through to him on his laptop. In one of those twists of little towns, Heath Gale owned the firm that handled some of Zeus’ legal work. A lawyer.Well, that explained the expensive suits and impeccable grooming.Young, he observed, lifting his eyebrows as he saw the date of birth. Young and rich. The rich wasn’t a surprise, most of the werewolf families did well by themselves, but this young man did better than most. Lived just outside of Havermouth, in a heritage home owned by another pack family, the Edison’s.Rhett Salem, the sexy tattoo artist, owned the tattoo parlor in town and made more than a decent living from the business, though the bulk of his wealth had been inherited.“Hmm,” Talen tilted his head and flicked back to Heath’s file.They lived at the same address. Interesting. But not necessarily remarkable, he decided. Young men ofte
Havermouth, Two Weeks Before “I already knew what you all were, and I didn’t tell anyone.” Aislen finished her glass and held it out for Heath to refill.“Yeah, Rhett said that.” Cameron looked at Rhett.“If the pack knew that, though,” Rhett explained. “They would decide that you were too great a risk and kill you anyway, so we couldn’t let them know about that…”“And we couldn’t talk about it with you without breaking werewolf law,” Heath told Aislen. “Until you were officially ours, officially recognized as part of the pack, we could not openly talk about ourselves to you, or show you…”“I’m not part of the pack, or yours now,” she pointed out.“No, but things have changed,” Rhett let his hair fall over his face, avoiding looking at Heath. “You are in danger.”“You were an idiot,” Heath sighed out his frustration. “Arrogant and prideful as always and decided to show off what you knew with that f-king Secret Keeper poem.”“When you came back to Havermouth, we had another chance, be
Havermouth, Two Weeks Before The necklace around her neck was held together by a padlock. Heath hadn’t noticed it at Rhett’s tattoo parlor – things had happened so quickly, and he had been so angry, it was no wonder that the details of her outfit had skipped his notice. But he had seen it the moment they’d entered the kitchen, noting the workmanship of it and the glitter of diamonds.A love token from the vampire, he had decided straight away. It wasn’t until they were sitting across the table from each other and the infinity knot had slipped to the side, that he’d seen the padlock holding it closed at the rear. A tiny padlock, but a significant one. The necklace wasn’t a lover’s token but rather a declaration of ownership.Considering how the vampire had defended her against Heath the evening before, he wasn’t surprised that he had made sure to mark Aislen as his. A warning to Heath to back off, and a notice that the vampire intended to continue his pursuit of Aislen.Heath wasn’t s
Havermouth, Two Weeks BeforeJules leaned against the fence and wiped his brow on the back of his sleeve. “That’s done then,” he decided his eyes on the indignant wet sheep in the holding pen. They’d spent the day putting this part of the herd through the dip – a process that Rhett always found comical when he was drafted in to help, enjoying the complaints of the sheep as they treaded dosed water before being drained and released into the pen.Cameron had left him in bed that morning, however, as Rhett wasn’t himself. The sex the night before had been… strange. It had held shadows of the early part of the last five years, when sex between the Triquetra had been about hurting each other as much as getting off. Rhett hadn’t hurt Cameron precisely, but Cameron had known that the sex hadn’t been about him, although he was the recipient, but about Aislen.“Yeah,” Cameron agreed. “I’ll grab a shower, change and head home.” He headed towards the house.Jules checked the gate before followin
Havermouth, Two Weeks BeforeRhett couldn’t concentrate, so it was lucky that he didn’t have any clients booked – he had cleared his schedule anticipating that they would still be at the river house with Aislen. He pottered aimlessly in his office as a result, shuffling paperwork that he didn’t have the focus to read, and collecting up the empty coffee cups that clustered on every surface, pulling his face at those which had a skin of green over them.Coffee was a good idea, he decided, and the walk to Boyston’s and back would clear his mind, even if the trip risked him bumping into Heath. His blond mate had returned from work the night before in a foul mood having broken his own rules and gone to see Aislen, only to find the vampire already there.Rhett was the only one who hadn’t broken the rules so far, as Cameron had come knocking on his door the previous afternoon, still sweating from his run and reeking of sex with Aislen. Rhett had been trying to do something constructive with
Concordia, Eleven Hundred Years Before Thorarin looked out from the top of the sand dune. “A kings worth is measured not by his success on the battlefield during times of war, but in his daily judgements. It is too easy, my son, for a man to overlook the day-to-day in seeking glory, but the true glory of a ruler lies not in the battles won, but in the actions that he takes during peace time.” “Father,” Thaelen’s voice caught in his throat as he watched the wind string out Thorarin’s hair, the colored beads arranged in a pattern that only Abara had ever mastered and had taken to the grave with her. “How did you die? I must… I need to know. Were you…” He closed his eyes on the tears that burnt there, but they escaped anyway, sliding down his cheeks and into his beard. “Was it peaceful?” “Is death ever peaceful, Thaelen?” Thorarin replied without looking at him. “Especially for immortals such as we are? But, yes, perhaps. I recall little of it. We drank… and slept, and there was no mor
Concordia, Eleven Hundred Years BeforeThaelen was pleased to see Gyrd and his son leave through the stronghold gate as Thaelen led his army within the range of the archers on the walls of Gyrd’s stronghold – a move that required confidence that Gyrd would not turn traitor and shoot them from behind. The Lord’s presence was reassurance that treachery was not planned although the archers remained at alert, the top of the wall bristling with their strung bows.“My king,” Gyrd bowed. “You are a welcome sight to behold in the Gulgane armor.”“Gyrd,” Thaelen reached out to clasp the Lord’s arm. “And Timal,” he greeted Gyrd’s son and heir. “I thank you for your loyalty to the Gulgane family, and for holding this stronghold against the invading humans.”They turned to regard the campsite. The distance made the details difficult to make out, however there was no gathering of men, no readying of the siege machines that they had been constructing, and minimal activity. Thaelen narrowed his eyes