Date: Sun, 27 Feb 2005 17:55:17 -0800 (PST)
From: Olsen Guerra <ophiucus23@yahoo.com>
Subject: Serpent's Salvation Ch.1

This story is copywrited and is property of the author. It cannot be
reprinted or posted anywhere without the authors consent. If gay stories
offend you, or if you are underage then this story is not for you. If it is
illegal to view this type of material where you live, leave. This story is
gay mythology-based fantasy fiction. It will build slowly, so don't expect
instant gonzo sex.


			      ---Prologue---

   "For what it's worth, I'm sorry"

   It was conspiracy. The news that Aurel's assistant had just given him
had cut to the heart. He had grown up with Baruch, trusted him like a
brother, and now to find out...

   Betrayal.

   He clenched his eyes shut for a moment before recovering his mask and
turned back towards Mychael.

   "Did you find out anything before he died?" Aurel said, once again
shuttered and hard.

   "No. He turned vicious. We thought we had him cornered. We never thought
that he'd..." Mych's voice trailed off. He was unaccustomed to making
excuses. He never had reason to before. And the memory of what had
happened; he shuddered involuntarily as his mind shied away from even
contemplating it.

   "We're still searching his things. There might be something that will
help us", Mych said, even as his face said otherwise.

   Aurel shook his head, eyes staring out the window at the violently
crashing sea below.

   "No. Nothing can help us."


                                  ***

                                                   Chapter 1


   "I wish that you would reconsider this, Aurel.  We can keep you secure
when everything is locked down, but we can't make any promises when you
invite everyone and their performing monkey in," Mych said, acknowledging a
passing guard as they walked through the private hallway.  "Your house is a
logistical nightmare." He had to pick up his pace to keep up with Aurel's
long-legged stride. Not that he was a small man, not even close, but Aurel
was at least half a head taller.

    "We've been over this Mych. The council meeting was scheduled long
before our problems started and it's my turn to host. I can't lose face
right now, there is much more at stake here than just me."

   "I know that," said Mych, "more than anybody. But if something happens
to you all of our plans are dead in the water anyway."

   "Hmm."

   "Pun definitely intended. No one will pick up where you left off."

   Aurel took a moment to consider this. "There are a few who might take up
the gauntlet."

   "But nobody that could do it justice. You know that. It isn't bragging
on your part, just stone cold truth."

   "I've given you extra men, extra money and extra equipment. I'm as safe
as I'm going to get Mych. I trust you to do what needs to be done. We are
fully committed so quit acting like a hen."

   "That's mother hen to you," said Mych. He expected a sharp reply but
Aurel just kept walking. They slowed their pace just a little as they
approached a polished wood door with an intricate lock system.

   "Remember," said Aurel, "no oral communication from you or the other
guards outside of the private living areas. Not while the house is
occupied."

   Seen and not heard, boss.

   "Damnation," Aurel said, "I wish I could do that."

   Perfection isn't easy to achieve.

   Mych sighed like a Martyr before wincing and rubbed his throbbing
bicep. "What was that for?"

   "Insubordination. And I barely tapped you."

   Mych rolled his eyes as he did a security check. "If that was just a tap
I don't know why you have us around in the first place."

   "It strokes my ego."


They took a labyrinthine jumble of corridors towards the library. Aurel
nodded to the door guard before slowly licking his lips, letting his senses
spread, even as Mychael inhaled, nostrils flaring gently, both seeking the
identity of the room's occupants. The guard had told Mych who was present,
but redundancy could mean the difference between life and death.

   Clear.

   Mychael's thought was a gentle flutter in his mind, confirming what
Aurel already knew.

   Despite the multitude of precautions they had already taken, Mychael
entered the room first; his fluid, graceful movements belied the fact that
he was prepared for violence.  He prowled the library out of habit while
scanning the leather volumes and comfortable chairs for anything out of the
ordinary. Aurel closed and secured the door behind him before turning
towards the rooms occupants. He scowled as he walked up to one of them,
picking the man up in a powerful embrace.

   "Get off me!" The voice was good humored, the accent blunted and
Americanized, but the struggling was very real. Aurel was almost crushing
him. Putting him down, Aurel smiled for the first time in days, his dark
chocolate eyes crinkling at the corners, a smile that coaxed a similar
response from the blue depths of the man in his embrace. Aurel loosened his
tight clasp but didn't break the physical contact.

   "I've missed you," he said.

   "I've missed you too. It doesn't mean that I want to dance with you."
Alex flashed him a lopsided grin. "I admit that it would probably be much
more interesting if you were a girl," he mused, looking pointedly at
Aurel's eye level pectorals. "But I only dance with your sister. Sorry to
disappoint." Aurel's laugh sounded forced even to himself.

   "I wish she could have come," Aurel said.

He must not have been quite successful in keeping the wistfulness at bay
because Alex felt the need to tighten the hug for a moment before releasing
him.

   "Misha wanted to be here, but honestly, it's for the best. If anything
ever happened to her or little Nicki..."

   "I know," Aurel said. "You don't have to say it."

   "Anyway, the hug was from her and she is expecting a phone call from us
both."

   "I will do so tonight."

   Aurel turned to the other two men, greeting them and clasping their
hands in turn.

   "Cai, Ruvn."

   Mychael nodded a greeting to the men as well, his gaze lingering on
Ruvn. Tall, dark, rather gaunt, he looked like a storybook undertaker, a
perfect foil for his sarcastic sense of humor. The humor wasn't present at
the moment however, as Ruvn gave a mournful shake of his head.

   Nothing.

   "We've gone through everything of Baruch's", Ruvn elaborated, "and we've
found nothing. They must have been extremely careful. No scent trails,
nothing on the computer. They could have used an old fashioned drop, but we
haven't been able to find it. It's unlikely that they would have a telepath
of their own."

   "You know how they feel. They wouldn't get near enough to one of us to
poke us with a sharp stick, let alone trust us with something so
politically volatile," Mych said.

   "They?" said Alex.

   "Just a general term. We have no idea," Ruvn said.

   "Oh, I have ideas aplenty, just no concrete evidence." Mych replied.

   Aurel sighed, resigned. "Don't look so upset. It is nothing less than
what we expected. We have about half an hour before we do the pretty. Cai,
have you heard anything?" He looked at the other man, almost his bookend in
terms of size and build, but blessed with the white blond hair and chiseled
face of a Viking.

   Mordecai sat down and poured himself a drink from the colorful cut
crystal decanter at his elbow, then took a sip before urging the others to
join him. They all metabolized alcohol swiftly, so there was no worry over
ill effects or the blunting of instincts. "So far, no rumors, nothing out
of the ordinary. Everyone believes that Baruch's death was a tragic
accident. There have been a few comments about the coincidence of so many
accidents so close together, but nothing concrete. Everyone suspects that
something is wrong but nobody is pointing fingers. It is only a matter of
time though; your enemies are like swift raptors when they sense easy
prey. Not that we are easy prey," he added, before they could speak, "but
it is a vulnerability."

    "Niran is gloating," Alex said.

    " But that's no more than usual. And Mercer is being a typical hard
ass." Cai shot a wicked grin at Alex as he used the borrowed
colloquialism. "There is a lot of support for you Aurel, but..." He shifted
in his seat, not quite meeting Aurel's eyes.

   "But?"

   Cai looked at him candidly. "They have to be wondering what will happen
if they ally themselves with you."

   "I've been wondering that myself," Aurel said.

   "Aurel, you can't just-"

   "Listen to me." The others gave a start of surprise when Aurel cut off
the beginning of Alex's tirade. "There is danger here. I am walking a
tightrope and anyone connected with me could be a target. One of our own
has already betrayed us, Clan members have gone missing, have died. I
believe in what I am doing, I've risked my life for it, but I can't ask you
to do the same Alex. You have a bound mate and a son. You have your own
Clan to worry about. I will not endanger you or your people. I won't
endanger my sister."

He looked around, taking them all in. "I won't endanger all of you."

 "You won't, will you? Who are you to order about the head of Clan Von
Erlach?" Alex said, his even voice and flashing eyes more forceful than any
shout. In that instant it was easy to see how someone so normally laid back
could inspire radical devotion in his people. "You are not my keeper. I
rule in my own right and I make my own decisions. Your sister wouldn't be
happy with your casual dismissal of us either. We believe in what you are
doing.  As a former outcast myself I have a stake in this as well. You're
my brother and I'll support you even if you're going to be a total jackass
about it." Alex rested his elbows on his knees as he leaned towards
Aurel. "Who helped you negotiate the Garuda Accords? Who volunteered to be
one of your ambassadors when everyone else was expecting certain failure?
Did you think that would be a cakewalk or a tiptoe through the tulips? It
could have blown up in my face."

   The silence was uneasy.

   "I thought as much," Alex said. "I helped you then and I'll help you
now."  He relaxed into the leather sofa and took a sip of brandy. "Besides,
I wouldn't want your sister to cut me off. I've become accustomed to
certain...things."

    Instead of rising at the bait as he usually would, Aurel looked pensive
for a moment, absorbing everything that was said. A weight that he hadn't
realized existed lifted off of his chest, leaving him almost lightheaded
with relief. He had been willing to go it alone, but it would have been
much more difficult, perhaps impossible. Even suicidal. Maybe he was
selfish, but the response he received had been the one he had hoped
for. Still, he had needed to give Alex an out. Aurel blindly gripped Alex's
hand and said "Thank you."

   "Don't mention it. Though I will have to tell Misha about your little
lapse into idiocy. Be prepared for a tongue lashing like no other."

   Aurel looked at Cai, who had gripped his other hand. "Cousin, where you
go, I go. You and Misha are the only family I have." The moment was ruined
when Alex cuffed Cai on the back of the head.

   "Leave someone out Cai?" Alex said.

   "My apologies. Aurel, Misha, and...little Nicki," Cai replied, playfully
ignoring Alex's glare.

   Mych and Ruvn had been lost in thought during the exchange, sharing a
silent communion before Mych spoke for both of them. He had to struggle
past the lump that formed in his throat. "I'm not used to speaking so
seriously, but if there was ever a time for it I suppose this is it." He
took a deep breath. "Aurel, we have no choice in the matter. You made the
choice for us the day you took us in and thumbed your nose at the rest of
the world. Our own tribes don't want us. They even hunted us for sport
before you came along. Everyone else was happy to let us find hell in our
own way but you gave us a family when we had nothing." The confession was
difficult for him. He was looking at the floor; his hazel eyes squinted as
if looking into a bright light, unruly black hair partially hiding his
expression. "I can't repay that, I don't have money enough, even friendship
enough to cover that debt, but I can die trying," he said, finally meeting
Aurel's eyes with the fierce determination in his own. Ruvn nodded his
solemn agreement.

   Aurel stood abruptly, turning to the door to hide the unaccustomed tears
that threatened to pool, grappling with the foreign feeling. He mentally
chastised himself. He never relinquished control. He never showed strong
emotion. With the depression he had fallen into, he didn't think he had any
strong emotion left in him besides despair, and even before that he had
been reserved. Aloof.

   Alone.

   He kept his back to the others, holding himself rigid to conceal his
turmoil. He almost choked before giving gruff thanks to Mych, unwilling to
reveal his weakness, but equally unwilling to ignore the heartfelt words of
a rare friend.

   " Cai, will you and Ruvn go on ahead? We will meet you at the
entrance. Mych, I need you to tell the guards that we are prepared to
leave."

   The others left quickly, even Mych, who could have easily communicated
with the other guards from inside the room. Only Alex now remained, staying
behind to mock him with worried, questioning eyes. Aurel would have walked
past him, but Alex bared his way with an arm and a glance. Aurel pointedly
ignored him, but didn't push past, knowing that he would have to submit to
a discussion.

   "You look like shit Aurel."

   "I'm fine."

   "Cut line. You don't look fine to me," Alex said, "and I'm sure Mych
would agree."

   "He hasn't said anything to me."

   "He worships the ground you walk on. Of course he hasn't said anything."

   "Maybe Mych hasn't become all touchy-feely since he married my sister,"
said Aurel.

   Alex grabbed Aurel and turned him to look at him. "That was beneath
you."

   Aurel still couldn't meet his eyes. "I know."

   "I'm just concerned Aurel," Alex said, " It's not like you would've won
any beauty contests before, but now you look haggard." Aurel knew it was
true. He hadn't been sleeping enough, and small lines of worry had appeared
around his eyes. He wasn't what he would have termed classically handsome
on the best of days, but he had always considered that his blunt, leonine
features suited his large frame. Ruggedly masculine was what he thought
when he was being particularly generous with himself, but now he just felt
drawn.

"Your sister will have me skinned if she finds out I didn't do anything to
help. We both know that it isn't just recent events that have affected you
like this, It's been coming on for a while now. Talk to me. Please."

   It was the please that did him in. Aurel studied the toe of his shoe
like it was the most important thing on earth, trying to convert his
thoughts to words and finding none. It would have been novel if the matter
were not so serious; he was rather known for his glib tongue. He just
didn't know what to say. He searched for the words to describe what he
felt. If he felt.

    How do you tell your brother that you are lonely, that he had taken
away the one person that made your stark life bearable? Aurel hadn't
realized the magnitude of his loss at first. He was happy for her,
truly. He had gone on as he always had, only gradually sinking into the
depression that now consumed him. No Misha to lean on when he needed to be
strong for everyone else. No Misha to be his conscience. No Misha to
pretend with him. She had left pretend behind when Alexandru had swept her
off her feet; beautiful blond Alex, giving her the real thing and showing
him the parody his life actually was. Aurel had thrown himself into his
work to make up for the lack in his life but now... He was breaking
down. His political life was in danger of being assassinated as thoroughly
as his friends and associates. He was at the end of his tether.

      His consternation must have shown, because awareness fell over Alex's
face like an eclipse. Aurel winced at the look of sudden understanding, and
seethed at the thought that he was pitied. He threw off the hand that had
come to rest on his shoulder and snarled, stalking out the door to meet
Mychael.

   Alex watched him walk away with an impotent sadness. Mates were so rare
and so highly prized; everyday he thanked a God he had once denied for the
love of his life. He was sure that Aurel had lost any hope he had once held
for something, someone, to give him the same joy.

   "Aurel, I know there is someone waiting for you."

                            ***


   The early evening was a cool grey that blended into the harsh sea, a
hint of pink and a foam of frothy white the only delineation between the
water and the sky. The birds that normally circled the churning waves were
curiously absent, gone to easier, safer shores. The house was stark and
imposing in it's isolated splendor on the bluff, its sward of green lawn a
clean contrast to its monotone elemental surroundings.

   They gathered in an underground chamber, a cavern in the rocky coastline
below the manor that had been modified suitably for the purpose. There were
only two entrances, the narrow concrete passage that led from the main
house, and the sea, a tempest of water and rock that kept most people from
exploring too close. It was a discrete entrance as much as an escape, one
that most of their number used.

   Despite the ocean noise and the rough rock walls, or perhaps because of
them, the large room was well appointed. Recessed lighting softly lit the
thick, jewel toned rugs, comfortable club chairs and honey colored wood
that graced the leveled floors. A bar in the corner served drinks and a
buffet table held an array of gourmet canapes and more mundane foods of
every description. Aurel would be the first to admit that it resembled a
gentleman's club. He had planned it in detail. On more than one occasion he
had been forced to suffer the hospitality of those who were less inclined
towards simple creature comforts and more towards Spartan masochism.

   People were still occasionally ascending the spiral stair that led down
to the pool that fed into the ocean but most had already arrived. The
meeting wasn't to begin for another half an hour, but everyone gathered
early to cement alliances, reaffirm private agreements, and publicly snub
those who displeased them, all under the pretense of mingling. Aurel
silently walked through the gathering, Mychael hard and inscrutable at his
side. He preferred to use this time to appraise his adversaries rather than
posture, bullshit or both.

   He smiled to himself. Apparently Cai was not the only one to have his
language mangled by Alex's bad influence. He parted ways with them both at
the door like they had arranged, intent now on sizing up the gathering.

   His was a subtle lot, but almost no one could maintain a rigid guard
indefinitely. Anything could betray a person's true thoughts, a shift in
body temperature, a nervous hand gesture, a blink. Rhys always laughed
nervously before telling an untruth. Aurel nodded at the man as he went
past. Sadira always glanced to the left. Aurel bowed graciously to her
before continuing his circuit of the chamber. The money he could have made
if only he went into poker instead of the often unrewarding path he had
chosen.

   No matter how often they gathered, Aurel could never quite escape the
feeling of awe he felt. It was a riveting kaleidoscope of color and
culture. He idly identified a dozen languages and made a guess at over a
dozen more. Farsi. Tagalog. Deutsch. Thai. No thieves' bazaar of the
imagination could compare to the eclectic mix of people and costume on
display. Here, a dour British professor talking to a jeweled Arabian
prince; there, a Polynesian dancer in agreeable conflict with a kindly
Asian monk.

   He took special note of a select few. He caught the eye of an intensely
rigid man with a prematurely white buzz cut who stared daggers at Mych. He
returned Aurel's barely perceptible nod without stopping a terse
monologue. Mercer Bennet.

   Militaristic bastard. He must have an assault rifle up his ass. He
probably masturbates with napalm while watching The Killing Fields.

   Aurel suppressed a smile at Mychael's rather rude indictment of the
man. He had to agree.

   A lone figure on a dais at the end of the room caught his attention and
held it without effort.  Aurel responded to the man's beckoning hand with
alacrity.

   You know how I feel about this Aurel.

   "Noted. Now hush."

   But he's a goddamn robot! He gives me the willies.

   "Mych." He couldn't mistake the warning growl in Aurel's voice. "He is
not a robot. And there are many here who would say the same thing about
you."

   The youthful man that had summoned him was garbed simply in a suit of
fine white linen that deepened the olive of his skin. His dark hair was
swept back in a clasp revealing unlined, ascetic features that gave away
nothing. He sat casually in the chair, legs crossed, slim form fluid, but
anyone present could tell you that looks were definitely deceiving.  Aurel
presented himself and made a small gesture of obeisance. Mychael hung back
at the edge of the crowd, looking mutinous but equally unwilling to incur
the wrath of Aurel or Aurel's elder. The seated man looked at Mych for a
long time with an unfathomable expression before turning towards Aurel.

   "They all avoid me, Aurel." The man indicated the crowd with a wave of a
slender bronze hand.

   "You don't seem too concerned," Aurel said.

   "That is because I know why they avoid me." He looked pleased. "And yet
you are here. They think you either brave or foolish."

   "Perhaps a bit of both Seth."

   "No. You have the heart of a lion. She," he indicated a matronly woman
who immediately cowered, "has the heart of an incontinent guinea pig."

   "You overrate me. I'm just less prudent than most."

   "If you were twice as prudent and half as wise you would still seek me
out."

   Aurel laughed, just as Seth intended. "Maybe I would at that."

  "Would you give me your hand?" Seth asked.

   Aurel hesitated for a moment, reluctant, but gingerly placed his hand in
the other's, jumping at the frisson of sensation that raced along his
arm. It was like a shock of electricity, and no matter how often he felt it
he could never get used to it.

   Seth inhaled sharply as his hand clenched and his black eyes unfocused,
the pupils dilating and swirling with raw power. Aurel hated this, at this
moment especially. He had always felt that Seth could see into his soul,
like his entire emotional state was flayed open and laid bare, a sacrifice
whose entrails were to be read. Aurel's every nerve was twitching, not
exactly painful, but not comfortable either. The time that passed was
brief, but to Aurel, it seemed like an age of pins and needles. Seth's eyes
slowly refocused, coming back from wherever he had gone, his hold on Aurel,
both body and mind, relaxing. His look was knowing and something
else. Compassion?

    Aurel did not prompt the other man. He waited, hardly daring to
breathe, knowing that Seth was choosing his thoughts carefully, and that he
would tell him no more than he thought necessary. Seth was sometimes
cryptic, often incomprehensible, his hints not resolving themselves until
the events were already unfolding. At other times he could be remarkably
blunt, even cruel, but never to those in his favor.

   "Aurel, the fates have not been kind to you of late. There is one that
would destroy you, and one that will be your salvation, but even that shall
come at a price. I wish I could say more, but not everything has been
revealed to me and I cannot anticipate the actions of everyone involved. If
I foolishly interrupt the balance of things all of your work could be for
naught. I will help where I can, but the burden is upon you." Seth squeezed
his hand in reassurance as he spoke, a small gesture that spoke
volumes. "Now go. Protocol will not allow me to show my preferences by
speaking to you for long. At least not in this arena."

  He turned to leave, but was halted by a barely perceptible whisper from
Seth.

   "Aurel. This is just the darkness before the dawn; you will see. Let
Amon guide you." Aurel processed this for a moment, listening more to what
wasn't said, rather than what was.

   He hesitated only briefly. "Seth, you are more a father to me than my
own ever was." It was a demonstration of trust; Seth knew it and valued it.

   "As you are my son."

   Aurel's first step faltered a bit, but Mychael's incipient frown helped
him recover as he strode away. No one would have seen his moment of
awkwardness. Few were prepared to incur the displeasure of Seth as he held
court. Eyes were kept averted out of respect and a healthy dose of
fear. Mychael trailed behind for a moment, his gaze fixed on the man they
had just left.

   Seth's words gave Aurel much to think about. One who would destroy
him. Baruch? No. He discarded that thought almost as soon as it
appeared. Seth talked of what would be, not the past. Another traitor, or
merely a nemesis on the council plotting to kill him? He would meditate
upon this later, when he had less to accomplish and more time for
speculation.

   He would have liked to discuss it with Mychael, but he knew that Mych
didn't trust Seth the way that he did. Didn't trust Seth at all for that
matter. Mych was much too pragmatic for oracles. Aurel had to remind
himself that he had once been just as skeptical, that only time and truth
had swayed him.

   He actually smelled Niran before he saw him. The cloying, oily scent
could be no other. The man must have bathed in aromatic oils.

   If he bathed.

   Aurel looked at Mychael, who shot him a sly glance.

   You know I can't read your mind. I just know you well.

   "Too well", Aurel managed before Niran was upon them.

   Niran was Beardsley's corpulent Ali Baba come to life. Instead of
economical lines of black and white, he was a jaundiced expanse of oily
flesh and hair. His Cheshire cat grin was replaced by a sneer as he looked
at Mychael.

   "Aurel, I would have thought that you would be more courteous than to
flaunt this sort of filth in front of us." He was loud, loud enough to draw
the attention of everyone nearby, the malicious twinkle in his eyes
deepening as he gained an audience.

   "Mychael is my right hand Niran, I would trust him with my life. You
have your allies." Aurel indicated Niran's son, Krait, who stood several
steps behind his father. "Why should I hinder myself and insult a friend to
appease a bigoted few?"

   "He's an abomination! A Ronan. You insult everyone here with his
attendance." Niran spoke with his hands; his chubby, bangled wrists
floundering like dying fish. "In your arrogance you have forgotten your own
people. I've heard rumors Aurel. I've heard that you have befouled your own
nest. I can only assume that it is their doing." He pointed at an
indifferent Mych with a melodramatic flourish, jewels winking on the
sausage-like fingers.

   He missed his calling as a carnival barker. I could be the sideshow geek
for all the elaborate squawking he does.

   Mych was a study in nonchalance, appearing bored but respectful. "And
now you want us to grant them permanent asylum," Niran said. "They are
manipulating you to gain their own ends. Well I won't have it. You might
not care about the preservation of our ways, but I do."

   Niran either didn't notice or didn't care that Aurel's eyes were
starting to change in intense anger, the light brown of his iris' turning a
fiery gold. With a last harrumph he sailed away like a triumphant barge, a
flick of a wrist summoning his son after him. Krait followed behind, but
not before looking between Aurel and Mych, his expression intense and
unreadable.

   Aurel sighed, relaxing tensed muscles as Niran walked away and the
people nearby went back to their own conversations. He usually kept silent
when the man chided him publicly, exuding chilly courtesy, knowing that the
man's venom did more to show him for what he truly was than any practiced
insult could.

   I feel sorry for that kid.

   "Kid? Krait is over a hundred years old."

   Nevertheless. He's a kid. With a father like that he has to be
emotionally stunted. He's hungry for something, and isolated. Did you see
the look he gave us? It was pathetic.

   "You sound like you've been reading Misha's magazines again," Aurel
said, but he looked at Krait with new eyes.

   Hard to believe that Niran sired someone like that, isn't it?

   It was. Where Niran was fat, Krait had a hard, lean body, tempered by
exercise and hard work, with a face of exotic beauty. Niran was pompous and
overbearing, Krait quiet and self-effacing. "My own father was distant and
cold, but never abusive. I can't imagine being subject to a martinet's
whims."

   I can.

   Aurel looked at Mych curiously, but he had closed his expression, just
like he did any other time he felt he had said too much. Aurel knew that
Mychael had suffered, but Mych had never shared his experiences with
him. Every small slip gave Aurel a glimpse of what created the man at his
side, and every glimpse was as intriguing as it was painful. Aurel
pretended to ignore his small lapse. Mych knew this and was grateful for
his friend's discretion.

   They walked towards Alex and Cai, who were sitting at the periphery of a
group discussion, biding their time before the meeting began. They had
agreed to share their impressions afterwards, so they relaxed into the
conversation, exchanging easy banter and observations, ignoring the few icy
stares and pointed looks they received. A casual acquaintance cornered
Aurel and looked towards Niran, whose eyes were following them with sheer
malevolence.

   "What was all that about?" She ran her finger down Aurel's bicep, as he
followed her gaze.

   "I'm not quite sure, but I've grown accustomed to it," he said. "If I
said the sky was blue, Niran would claim it was green just to spite me." He
frowned at the thought. "I have no idea why he is so venomous, but I
stopped questioning it a long time ago."

He politely removed himself from her roving hand and turned his attention
to the people around him, not so much the words that were spoken as the ebb
and flow of conversation, seeking a discordant note. Nothing was terribly
obvious so Aurel carefully opened his senses to those around him, just as
Cai and Alex were surreptitiously doing. He let his hypersensitivity come
to full flower, licking the edge of his lips to scent any changes in
emotion, any subtlety that would tell him...

   There.

   Something was definitely odd. He was surprised that no one else seemed
to catch it, but the scent was extremely subtle, barely there. Something
familiar. Something-

   Aurel's eyes widened and he sucked in a quick breath that held. And
held. It couldn't be. And yet...His skin rippled, his eyes becoming a helix
of fire, windows into the blazing inferno that blossomed and threatened to
overwhelm him with its intensity. She was close, so very close. He inhaled
as much of her scent as he was able, taking her into his body, memorizing
every nuance, the subtle shift and play of aroma that marked her. My
God. Marked her as his. He couldn't get enough of that tenuous smell. His
body tightened, tendons like bowstrings, thrumming with possibility, hands
shaking with a need that had been foreign to him just scant moments
ago. His face was a rictus of painful desire, eyes clenched in a futile
attempt at reclaiming his social mask. He tried to maintain his control,
his normal facade. He could hear the whispered concern, a drawn breath,
knew he was failing and couldn't bring himself to care.

   She wasn't here, she was...

   He ran. Aurel raced off towards the entrance to the house, ignoring the
surprised shout behind him, the ripple of interest that arrested the
gathering, the tendril of question in his head. His long, powerful legs
blurred in haste. Mych and Ruvn followed in hot pursuit, their confusion
obvious and total.

    Aurel.

   Aurel!

   What's wrong?

   Aurel couldn't answer, couldn't function until he knew. Until he was
certain. Until he saw her with his own eyes, put his face in her hair to
inhale deeply of her; prove to himself that she wasn't a figment of his
imagination, that she wouldn't disappear like a Djinn. Until he had her
covered, hot and ready, begging for...

   Aurel shook off those thoughts and pressed hard, entering the house,
surprising the man stationed at the door even though he had been mentally
warned. Aurel had always been so cool and composed; his actions now were a
shock. Mych and Ruvn followed close, uncertain and fearful, but committed
to helping their friend. Aurel's Italian dress shoes weren't made for
running and he slid on the slick grey marble as he rounded the paneled hall
into the vast foyer, continuing his sprint to the front entrance.  He
stopped for a moment as he reached the door, lungs working double time,
pulse heavy and fast. She was gone, but not for very long. He spun in
place, inhaling. Her scent was stronger here. It filled the hall. It filled
the world. He grabbed the door guard by his jacket and shook him.

   "Where is she? Where has she gone?" Aurel was more beast than man as he
snarled his demand. The guard, not without his own defenses, became fearful
as Aurel's fangs elongated, as his flesh moved in a sickening wave that
looked like a creature moving underneath his skin.

   "Sh-she?"

   Aurel picked the man up and thrust him against the wall, holding him
there as his feet dangled.

   "Now." The word was a guttural mess, but the guard understood.

   "Th-there is no she. No woman has been here." Aurel thumped him hard
against the wall, the plaster cracking. "I swear!"  The guard was sweating,
eyes wide, brow pinched in combined fear and shock. Aurel shook off Mych's
tentative hand as he prepared to attack the man, savage him, but the guard
reached a shaky hand into his pocket and drew out a slightly crumpled card;
a card that carried her fragrance, waving it like a magic talisman. Aurel
grabbed at the card hungrily, dropping the guard in a heap on the floor
where he scrambled away to safety. Aurel brought the card to his nose,
closing his eyes as he inhaled. He smelled soap, a hint of musk, a fresh
clean scent that reminded him of rainy woodland, and...

   Alarm bells started to go off in his head even before he opened his
eyes. If he had been honest with himself, he would have admitted that he
heard them as soon as he scented her, but had ignored them as his other
senses overwhelmed his instinct. Madness and desperation gave way to
confusion as he tried to deny what his senses were screaming at him. He
smoothed the fine paper and read the neat script with mounting
apprehension.

   Mych watched in horror as Aurel's legs shook, then buckled under his
weight. He crashed to the floor with a sob, shoulders shaking, hands paper
white.

   "Shit!" Mych ran forward to help.

   Ruvn took a tentative step forward. "Is he going to be alright?"

   "I don't know. Don't just stand there, help me," Mych said. "The rest of
you, back to your stations."

The rest of the guards that followed had scattered to the edge of the room,
uncertain and deeply disturbed at this uncharacteristic breakdown. They all
held Aurel in awe, and the fact that he was showing such complete
vulnerability scared them.

"That means now." The men jumped at the barked order and fled the room,
returning to their posts.

 Aurel was unresponsive as he was awkwardly picked up and carried between
Mych and Ruvn, convulsing with tears as he was taken to his room.

   "What do you think happened Mychael?"

   "I'm not sure, but I'm going to find out."

   Mych stayed with Aurel for a while, trying to offer silent support, but
it was obvious that Aurel didn't even know he was there, such was his
grief. He was curled in upon himself, rocking back and forth on the bed
like a small child. Mych covered the hunched figure with a blanket before
quietly making his way outside. It wasn't until he softly latched the door
behind him and entered the brighter hallway that Mych took the small piece
of paper that he had rescued out of his pocket. He read the few words, the
number penciled beneath it, and blanched, a look of pain haunting him as he
looked back at the door he had just exited. He ran his thumb over the
raised print and read the card again, cursing its existence. Just four
simple words. Who knew that four little words could completely destroy a
man?

                             Sebastian Fell
                           Nature Photography


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