Pras was sprawled beside Nikol, idly fiddling with a data tablet that the pilot had brought back from his ship earlier. He set it aside when he stirred. Eying him critically, Pras brought his palm to his brow.
Nikol stretched sat up. “How long did I sleep?”
"It’s just past midday.” Pras waved at sensor built into the wall. The window’s transparent barrier slid away and the lights went out. He tugged on Nikol’s hand. “I want to show you something.”
A cloudy darkness cradled them. It was so thick he barely see Pras. He could only feel him, the heat of his body as he urged him to cross the darkened room. “There’s a storm.”
Nikol followed, intrigued by the way he spoke in such an excited rush of breath. The wind blew in, carrying the taste and wetness of the rain with it. It was full of earth, mineral and the green scent of wounded trees. The clouds obscured the sky. It might as well have been night. Drenched by the wetness from the sky, the tree with crimson leaves was in full bloom. Its swollen petals were glowing. Their sharp, sweet fragrance filled the air. Nikol stared, awestruck by the wonder that graced the wild garden below. The tree was glimmering like a star. It was an impossible, magnificent thing.
"Bioluminous?"
"Only after rain." Pras' his eyes glittered in the dark. “This is the garden that I made, Nikol. Do you see?”
When the wind whipped through the canopy, hundreds of blossoms were being carried away down the raggedly slope to the sea. There was already a wide and winding river of them streaming toward the distant horizon.
“Once when I was sleeping,” the immortal murmured. “I had this dream.”
It was both beautiful and disturbing, this incredible vision that Pras had realized. What exactly had he been trying to capture? What had he been chasing as he slept? His eyes were brimming with some deep, heretic emotion that Nikol both yearned for and wilted away from touching. Overwhelmed, he shook his head, slowly. Wordlessly. He was shaken, breathless. He couldn’t look away from him, couldn’t speak. In that instance, Pras wasn’t the man Nikol felt he knew. Once again, he was something else. He was something mysterious, maddening and lost in some faraway place that Nikol could never hope to reach him. Those eyes cleared after a moment, and he was himself again.
He smiled in that slightly chagrined way of his. “What do you suppose it means?”
Nikol’s heart ached. He reached out before he realized it, sank into Pras’ embrace. He drank in his scent, inexplicably relieved it was the same as always. “Don’t do that anymore,” he uttered senselessly. "I don't like it!"
Bewildered, Pras’ hands cradled Nikol’s dazed, upturned face. He was shaken by the beseeching look in his eyes. “I’m not sure I--”
His protest was swallowed up by a desperate kiss. The clouds rumbled and the downpour intensified again. A blast of wind carried in the rain, drenching them both. Nikol’s wandering hands tugged at the belt of his robe. He shuddered as the wet fabric slipped to the ground at their feet. Lightning and the soft glow from the tree set them aflame. He was sinking. Drowning. He let the current pull him under. Limbs tangling, they tumbled together.
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Pras licked the skin at the Nikol’s neck where his pulse was madly throbbing. He shuddered, fangs lengthening. He withdrew, needing a moment to rein himself in but Nikol shifted with him, closing the distance between them. His teeth grazed Pras’ lower lip.
“Take my blood,” he offered softly. “You want to, don’t you?”
“Aren’t you afraid I might--”
“Please?” His breath was a shaky whisper. “I want to know how it feels.”
He closed his eyes and waited a few heartbeats. There was a sharp, ragged gasp as Pras made his move, sharp fangs sinking into flesh. Nikol choked, overwhelmed by the dizzying torrent of emotion and imagery pouring into him. Stars exploding. Blood. Screams. A black haired girl with brilliance bursting from her arms. Grief. Elation. Heat. Cold. These things spun a web through his blood until his sense of self started draining away...
“Breathe, Nikol.” The vampire’s laugh was low and strained. “Breathe!”
There was a jolt. Nikol suddenly became aware that his starved lungs were begging for air. He inhaled deeply, painfully. Pras hovered over him, eyes wide and worried. His vision wavered. His was only vaguely aware of his arms reaching outward. Pras was glowing, a strange fire coursing through his whole being. Did he even notice? Nikol couldn’t quiet his shuddering heart. Didn’t want to. Pras' mouth covered his and filled his tongue with a sweet, metallic taste. Blood. That’s my blood! He thought.
He managed a shaky laugh. “I never imagine it might be so...”
Pras smiled slightly, anxiety palpable. “Terrifying?”
“Intense. I saw... I saw...” Tormented and fascinated, Nikol frowned. He couldn’t remember. The visions had left him already. Feverish, he moved restlessly against the immortal. “Again! I have to see...”
To his dismay, Pras pressed the flat of his palm down on his chest. He was so strong! It took barely any effort, yet Nikol was immobilized. He stopped struggling after a moment and frowned over at his companion.
“You’re being incredibly selfish, Pras.”
Pras’ laugh was bit forced. He seemed to be having trouble breathing. “No, I'm not.”
The frenzied, ravenous feeling slowly dissipated. The spinning in Nikol's head finally ground to a slow waltz. Breathing became easier. His body curled against Pras. He suddenly shivered.
The immortal’s breath was warm against his ear. “Cold?”
“So it seems.”
Pras surged to his feet. He led Nikol out of the rain soaked room and to another sprawling suite, not far down the hallway. They settled amidst the soft cushions there, burrowing under warm coverings. Pras’ fingers toyed with the damp curls of his hair. The silence enveloped them until Pras finally broke it.
“What you thought you were feeling just now. You understand?”
“Yes.”
Wide eyed now, Nikol stared up at the skylit ceiling. The clouds were clearing. The light of day, slowly returning. He released a shaky breath. Lust. Hunger. They were an overwhelmingly erotic and powerful combination. The taste was still thick and heavy in his mouth. Everything Pras was feeling had been flowing into him. Eagerly feeding into that sensation, he’d been recklessly urging him on. A sudden jolt of realization hit him. For a vampire, taking blood without taking a life must take such monumental effort.
Pras nodded briefly at his chagrined look. “Be more cautious next time, will you?”
Nikol raised a brow. “What makes you think there will be a next time?”
Eyes, dark and endless trapped him and stole his breath. There was a challenging, relentless smile. “Won’t there be?”
The moon was a misshapen oval in the sky. It had been that way since long before humans came to this world, even before sapient life first sparked there in the murky brew of the emerald depths. The ship had set out at dawn, three days earlier. The captain, a burly man with a scar beneath his right eye, had overseen the purposeful flurry of activity. A robust gust had risen up and drawn the lofty sails into it’s embrace. They’d sped into the brilliance of the distant horizon. The sun, peeking up from the lower hemisphere had been a glittery beacon pulling them toward the center and into the unknown.
The captain, back to the horizon, had watched the mainland until it fell away from view with a growing sense of dread. The man knew that on this vast ocean, every time he set sail might be the last time he’d ever set his eyes on solid earth again, for humans held no dominion over this great body. Ships were merely flotsam that may or may not be tolerated by the capricious being that carried them. Their fates were all too often determined by the water’s whim.
His ominous passenger lay at the root of his discontent. She was an enigma, the dark woman-child whose stormy eyes were brimming with untold secrets. They'd crossed the ocean from the island temple a continent away. He was already a strongly superstitious being. When the high priest of one of the oldest known religious orders made the request to transport the temple's ward to the forbidden coast, he couldn’t have refused could he?
Earlier a storm had risen. Dark clouds had covered the sky, turning day into night. The waves had spun them about and off course. The sky had remained dark even after the water had quieted. When the captain contemplated dropping anchor until either the sun or stars appeared, the girl had simply pointed obliquely and ordered him to keep the ship moving. Not long after, they’d come upon the ghostly path of lights leading in the direction she’d told them to go. Although there was no moon, they’d all seen it, the eerie light beckoning from a great distance away.
As they lowered her small watercraft into the water near the shore, she called out an order. “Return to the temple and tell them what you've seen.”
Without so much as thanks or a fare-thee-well, she turned about and began rowing towards the shore. The captain had muttered a small prayer of thanks that the ungrateful brat had been right and that they had completed that accursed mission with expedience.
Shannah Varia tossed one last scowling glance at the vessel she’d just left.
“I heard that, damn you!” She muttered under-breath.
She was torn between rejoicing being free of that nasty, paranoid lot and worrying about the challenge that lay ahead. Her anxiety was such that her heart was racing painfully. She faced the dark mass of land that loomed ahead with trepidation. What was she more afraid of? The possible horrors that lay ahead or the painful death that awaited back at the temple, should she fail. She rowed until she lost the feeling in her arms. When the bow of her small boat finally touched solid ground, she barely had enough strength left to drag it away from the waves. Thoroughly exhausted, she lay inside the grounded vessel and closed her eyes, intending only to rest long enough to catch her breath.
A massive entrance had been built into the windward side of the great hill, allowing easy access to where Pras ship was stored. Nikol distractedly guided the Prideful Hooligan downward and toward the opening. He was still bleary eyed-from sleep and drunk on the events from the day and night before. Unconsciously, he brought his fingers to the back of his neck where Pras had bitten him. At his own insistence! The memory made him shudder, made his body go tight all...
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"
Pandora’s shriek had him snapping back to the present. With a jolt, he pulled up just seconds shy of careening into the side of the hill.
“Sorry--sorry! I guess I’m a bit... er... distracted today.”
“You don’t say." Was her disgruntled retort.
It had been enough of a near miss for his hands to still be shaking as he brought his ship back upwards and circled around again for entry. He happened to glance land-ward as he completed the arc and ended up swinging about and away. He circled the coast once before heading back towards the hill.
He buzzed the bridge as he carefully guided the Hooligan into Pandora’s cargo bay.
“Pras, could you come down for a bit? Something strange seems to have washed ashore.”
