Erotica Harem

Title: Crimson Cries

Chapter: Chapter 18

Author: dusktildawn

Setting: Daniella’s private jet, Palladin’s private hangar at the Seville airport and a field behind that. You gave enough description for these to be quite clear.

Character(s): Daniella and Aiden. These two remain in character and you do a wonderful job of portraying their emotions.

Referencing: No problems here at all.

Plot: Still right on track. The Nine seem to have been setting a trap for all the vampiric elders, not to mention other vamps and their own kind even.

Grammar: Nothing I could find.

General: This was a fantastic chapter, bringing us closer to the end conflict between the vilkacis and vampires with the Nine. This is getting tense and I wonder who’s going to make it out of this alive.

Line Edits:

Emile’s dulcet voice hummed over the aircraft’s intercom. “We will be arriving in Seville in approximately eight hours. Bon nuit.” A click sounded and silence followed.

Stealing sidelong glances at Daniella sitting on the other side of the plane, the ramifications of what they’d done jackhammered through Aiden’s skull. Guilt riddled him, yes, but the righteousness of what they’d done nullified nagging doubts and other useless emotions he didn't want to think about right now. He was a police officer first and foremost, sworn to protect the public, and in every sense, he’d done just that.

They’d left DeNora’s ashes drifting in the breeze as they traveled the air currents to reach the outskirts of the city. From there, however, the distance to the airport proved too far, and Aiden’s magic waned. It would take years of strengthening and practice before he matched Daniella's powers, if at all.

He’d sensed a difference in her since she drank from Sanehet. The same daunting preeminence emanated from her now, and he didn’t have the balls to ask her about it, and with everything happening as it was, it stayed his hand even more. He hoped she'd come clean and tell him, but he wondered whether she knew herself. They never talked about what happened at Stronick Castle except for the basic facts of how Kon, Teanna and Kiernan met their end, and poor Connor Talbot's death, but whatever transpired between daughter and father remained unsaid, hanging over their heads like a shroud. With Sanehet destroyed, the isolation and loneliness he’d sensed when meeting her for the first time was stronger than ever. Coldness stole the verdant luster from her eyes, and she seemed to be moving away from him, cocooning herself within that impenetrable shell he had finally managed to shatter. How many centuries will pass before she forgives herself? Maybe it was best he kept his mouth shut. Lately, all he seemed to do was argue with someone.

As they waited by the side of a road, Daniella used her cell to call a cab. Mustard sands danced with dry, desert winds, creating a surreal fog that encased the city lights. Aiden stared, seeing DeNora’s transformation swirling within it. Holy shit! he thought for the hundredth time. Will I ever get used to this? The scene played like an annoying ditty in his mind, and one he’d rather forget.

When they boarded the plane at twelve thirty-five, the adrenaline rush wore off and nuances of vampiric sleep weighted his limbs. Aiden rose from his seat, and opened the cockpit door. He spoke with Emile for a moment and said goodnight before walking back down the aisle, pausing beside Daniella where she sat in brooding silence. “Care to join me?” he asked, incorporating a hopeful lilt into the question. She shook her head, her gaze fixated out the window. She’s been through enough already. If she wants alone time, maybe it’ll bring her outta that shell. He entered the bedroom and flopped on top of the bed. Lustful memories of the last time they shared this room followed him down into sleep.

After he woke, he showered and returned to his seat just as they landed in Seville. Daniella still hadn’t acknowledged him. She sat where he’d left her hours before, knees gathered to her chest beneath his jacket, her head against the window. Better to let sleeping panthers lie. The last time he’d seen her like this was when Manvera Talbot, her long-time attorney, friend and granddaughter of Connor, became Damien Rainer’s fifth victim. Mere months ago…I was a regular Joe, investigating a frigen serial killer. He’d never been further than Chicago to visit his brother, and now, here he was, traveling the world, hunting monsters he never believed existed. After Rainer’s bloodthirsty trail of murders, losing two of his best friends, being kidnapped and used as a pin cushion to vamps no less demented than these Nine, he and Daniella managed to find one another through the chaos. He never thought he could love someone so completely as her. There were times, like now, when he felt like he’d skidded into another time continuum, and in a sense…he sure as hell had.

Aiden stared out his own window. A bright red building situated in the center of a field at the farthest end of Seville’s main terminal continued to get closer. Hangar doors rolled open as Emile taxied the jet toward the gaping maw.

Aiden’s thoughts turned to DeNora Haber. She’d been methodical and far deadlier than Damien. That prick was just plain insane, but these Nine…they’re like a fucking army! Now that he’d slept on it, he felt no guilt over what they’d done, or more precisely, what Daniella had done. DeNora wasn’t human, plain and simple. He shivered, sneaking a peek at the First, and thought,Then again, neither am I.

Darkness crept through the airplane’s interior as they passed through the massive entrance and rolled to a stop, the doors closing behind them. The drone of the engines fell silent. Emile exited the cockpit looking like he’d just arrived at work, beaming a toothy smile. “At your request, Ms. Rolfe, we’ve arrived at Prince Sandalio’s private terminal.” He leaned over and opened the side door.

Aiden rose with Daniella. She handed back his jacket, refusing to look him in the eye. “Thank you, Emile,” she murmured.

Sometime during the night, she’d changed into dark purple, light-fitting drawstring pants and a matching short-sleeve hoodie. The material hugged every curve and ample swell.

“Is the back exit ready?” he asked the pilot.

“Back exit?” She shifted to Emile as he nodded.

“As you requested, Monsieur Blackmore.”

Aiden leaned in front of her. “Emile, Mr. Blackmore was my father. I’m just Aiden, remember?”

The Frenchman was about to answer, but Daniella cut him off. “Would you like to fill me in?”

He ignored her tempered tone. “Go take a couple of days off, Emile. Visit a beach or two, suntan, get laid, go do something fun.” He smirked and placed an arm around her shoulders. “We plan on doing some sightseeing while we’re here.”

“Oui, Mons… Aiden.” The pilot tipped his captain’s hat, flashing another grin before taking off down the stairs and disappearing into the gloom.

She leveled a guarded glare in his direction. “How did you know we’d be heading inside a hangar?”

He threw the jacket she’d handed him over an empty seat. “I asked Emile before I went to bed. You weren’t in a talkative mood.” When she pursed her lips, he hurried on. “This is how I see it, Daniella. My guts are churning here, and something isn’t right. We’re being herded. I can’t tell you why—”

“I know.” She rubbed her temples.

“How about you tell me what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours? You’ve been so quiet and…well, if you won’t talk, I’ll find out information in other ways.” He drew her into his arms. “I’m pretty resourceful, remember?” His lips brushed across the top of her head. “I just put a few precautions in place.”

“It’s daylight, people are around, so I don’t anticipate an attack.”

“Well, I’m not as optimistic as you.”

She pushed away. “No. You’re not me,” she snapped.

He hid his surprise, and hurt. “What do you mean by that?”

She lowered her gaze. “Never mind.”

He embraced her again, pressing her rigid body closer. “I’m a cop first, then a vamp.” He felt her forehead furrow against his shoulder. “Daniella, I wouldn’t have done anything different than you did.”

She pulled away and stared at the floor.

“Okay, I might not have sucked her dry like that, mind you, but…” He sobered. “You did what you’ve been doing for centuries.”

“After everything you know about me, and then seeing that…that…” She stepped away. “You didn’t need to see the monster in me.”

“A monster? Who saves lives? Hell, Daniella! Look at me.”

She stared up through her lashes, cold and unyielding.

“Then I’m one of those monsters too.” He chewed the inside of his mouth, trying to form the right words so he wouldn’t start an argument. “We’re the good guys, remember? And if I can bloody well understand this whole scenario, you must too.” He moved forward, forcing her chin up with his thumb. Her eyes held him as he searched her face. What he saw almost buckled his knees. “I don’t think any less of you, and I never will,” he whispered. “You’ve been upholding the law…well, laws that are little different than what I’m used to, mind you, but you’ve been doing what I’ve done…protecting the innocent. We’re still putting away the bad guys, only there’s no jail for these types of criminals. That’s what they are, Daniella, murderers taking innocent lives. If not us, then who?”

She forced a smile. However small it was, he saw relief on her face.

“You’ve been thinking about this for some time, haven’t you?”

He offered her his cockiest grin. “I’ve been working on that very answer for," he paused and stared at his wrist, "what time is it?”

She shook her head, trying not to smile. “Why are we using the back exit?” She gathered her purse and talked over her shoulder as she made her way down the metal stairs.

“Because if they were here in Seville to kill off Palladin’s household staff, they haven’t gone far.”

“And is this your famous gut feeling?”

He chortled. “Yeah, but now I don’t have to eat an entire package of antacids to deal with it.” She waited for him at the bottom rung, and he knew his joke fell short.

“I’ve had similar thoughts myself.” Lines deepened on her face. “Shield yourself like you’ve never done before, but be careful, Aiden. Concentrate on every sense you possess, especially hearing and smell. Remember what happened at the hotel? DeNora let down her guard, thinking she was safe. Let’s hope the other Nine think the same way. Perhaps Palladin was right, and some of these vilkacis are too young to master their powers yet. They won’t know how to effectively shield themselves. We’ll use it to our advantage.”

Lips curled into a scowl as he glanced around the dim hangar. He lowered his voice. “They’ve left evidence of their kills.spacePolice, army, not even the fucking government….no one can understand it. Because no one's claiming responsibility, unlike terrorist groups, it’s shoved into some forsaken closet and forgotten. If they don’t understand something, they hide it away from the public.” She touched his arm to interrupt, but he continued, stepping closer to the back door of the hangar. “So, why show themselves now? My spider senses are doing more than just tingling, Daniella. And like you’ve done yourself, I’ve always trusted mine. These rules are completely insane. They’re organized and methodical, just like regular criminals, only with bigger teeth and disgusting tastes. Now, we’ve killed one of them, and DeNora wasn’t just some grunt. We’re going to feel retribution…and it’s gonna be here.”

They stepped through the metal door and he reached for his sunglasses, shielding his sensitive eyes. He envied Daniella, who had more years to adjust to such changes. Sunlight glared off a sleek, black minivan that waited for them. He took two steps and stopped, every cell in his body on alert. "Jesus!" She halted right beside him.

He turned just as she grabbed his hand. “Don’t even look in that direction. Don’t do anything!” She hissed. “I sense her as well. Two o’clock, over my right shoulder.”

“Holy shit, they have balls!” His fingers twitched to pull his gun.

Daniella opened her purse and did a frantic search through it. Aiden frowned, confused. “What the hell are you doing?” he asked between clenched teeth, emptying his mind of all thoughts.

Creating an element of surprise. She threw a hand up in the air. “I must have left it on the airplane.” Turn and head back in.

When the door clanged shut behind them, he placed his hands against the cool metal frame, and closed his eyes. “She’s about a half mile away.” His sight was like night-vision. The terrain held a sepia glow as his vampiric sight searched the knee-high grass of the adjacent field. Perfect camouflage, you wolf-bitch, he grumbled. He halted fifty yards from a dark-haired woman lying on her stomach, binoculars balanced on the flat of a large stone. He lingered a second longer, memorizing the lay of the land.

“Talk to me, Aiden.”

Adrenaline rushed through him. “We go out the front. We’ll sneak along both sides of the perimeter. There’s no cover, just an open field, but the grass is tall. She may sense our approach. There’s… Hold on a sec.” He concentrated, tracking the sliver of dark magic like a hound. It thrummed like a guitar string, but so faint. “There’s a grassy knoll on her right about ten feet away. I’ll go wide on her left, you on the right, just out of her line of vision.” He turned and opened his eyes.

Daniella nodded, calm and ready for battle. “Good plan.”

Aiden drew his weapon, screwed on a silencer and pulled out a clip. “Spencer calls these Silver Death. They’re special hollow-heads encased in regular metal, but the bullets are one hundred percent silver inside. When the shell makes contact,” he paused and snapped a clip in, “the head explodes with liquid silver nitrate and aconite.”

“Monkshood?” A brow arched, and her smile widened. “You and Spencer have been busy.”

“Nope, not me. This is Spence’s doing.” He gave a wink. “I think he has a crush on the guy who makes them.”

“Not likely, Aiden. I’ve seen the gunsmith myself.” A somber shadow flitted over her face, and worry flashed in her eyes. “You know what to do?”

“Yep,” he answered, offering her his infamous, lopsided grin.

They flew through the dimness of the hangar, clinging to the murkier shadows of the corners like shades, unseen by the small handful of mechanics working on the two jets. He glimpsed the other plane, identical to Daniella’s. Man, it must be nice to be royalty.

The doors slid open on silent wheels. Daniella vanished right, Aiden left. Using the elements of the wind and grasping sight and sound to themselves to cause seconds of nonexistence, they swept toward their quarry.

Simone’s attention was elsewhere, riveted on the hangar and oblivious to their approach. When her head shifted, Aiden didn't hesitate. He fired once into her spine. The roar of a cargo plane touching down swallowed the French woman's shriek as she lurched onto her back.

Weaker in sunlight, weaker in sunlight… Aiden repeated it like a litany. He moved fast. He wasn’t allowing Daniella to have this one without getting answers first. He had Simone in a headlock, the silencer of his gun crushing into the side of her temple. He sensed Daniella’s wrath and need to kill. “No! Wait. We need answers.”

She halted a foot away.

Simone struggled in his iron grip. He dug the muzzle harder into her skull. “Listen up, vilkacis-bitch.” He snarled, using his best bad-cop impression. “The way I see it is you have limited choices here. One, you’re gonna answer some questions. For each one you don’t answer, I’ll pump a bullet into you until you’re so full of poison, you’ll die…eventually…but it’ll hurt like hell. Or I just let Daniella rip that head of yours off your shoulders and be done with it.”

Taut muscles stiffened like marble before falling limp. He didn’t have to look at Daniella to know what she thought. He sensed the violence pulsating off her in waves. “Now, where’s your merry band of puppies?”

“Fuck you!”

“Hmm, wrong answer.” He aimed the weapon at her calf and fired. This gets easier all the time, he mused, somewhat surprised. An image of DeNora shapeshifting filled his mind, urging him on. Simone jerked and screamed. He placed the barrel back at her temple. A dark stain formed through the pant leg of her jeans.

“Aiden…”

“Not now, Daniella.” He ignored her exasperated sigh. “Now, I’ll ask you again. Where are your friends?”

Sweat dripped off Simone’s face, her dark hair clinging to cheeks and forehead. “Here. In Seville.” Her words came out in a strangled gasp, the poison now creeping into her bloodstream.

The Nuasair growled again, a vile sound that made him shiver. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? You have two doses in you now. Not enough to kill you...yet. Wanna work on three? Where in Seville?” He loosened his hold around her neck, and she slumped to the ground, grimacing.

“Aiden!”

“What?” He looked up. The scowl across Daniella’s features deepened the anger so visible on her face.

“Kill her and be done with it. She’s not going to tell you anything. She dies if she does and,” she paused to sneer downward, “and she’ll be destroyed if she doesn’t.”

“Well, that just shot my interrogation skills to shit,” he muttered.

Simone’s eyes widened.

“What are you doing in Spain?” Daniella demanded, narrowing her eyes.

“Waiting for you, and…and...” The Nine bit her lower lip and drew a shuddering breath.

A moment of empathy washed over Aiden, but it vanished when he realized she was trying to mutate. With a nonchalant aim, he fired into her left thigh.

Simone howled, and flopped like a fish in the grass.

Daniella moved closer and knelt, sticking a finger into the bullet wound in her thigh and digging deeper. “You and the rest of the Nine attacked and killed Palladin Sandalio’s staff—”

“Ne pas moi. I wasn’t here!” she panted out, terror blanching her features. “I-I- was in Romania.” She jeered up at him, and Aiden saw a glistening sheen of blood staining her perfect teeth.

Daniella grabbed the woman’s shirt. “Romania?” She growled. “When, why?”

What’s so important about Romania? It took a moment to register. Alleandros!

“Several days ago.” Simone grunted and coughed out a wad of blood. With three bullets diffused in her bloodstream, the poison was enough to bring down an elephant, but she remained defiant.

Daniella’s hand snaked out and gripped the woman around the neck, raising her upper torso off the ground like a loaf of bread. She leaned in close. “Why were you in Romania?”

“All-a-lleandros.”

He watched Daniella’s knuckles whitened as her steely grip tightened, and her nails grew long and sharp.

“Did you find him?” Teeth grew and slipped over the fullness of her lower lip

“I saw you there—” Simone coughed again, spraying droplets of blood over Daniella’s face. Aiden’s mouth watered and with effort, he pushed aside the sudden hunger.

Daniella rose, bringing the Nine with her. Simone’s army boots dangling a foot off the ground. “You destroyed him, didn’t you? Didn’t you?” She shook the wolf like a rag doll.

Simone tried to nod and breathe at the same time. Her face flushed red before turning a deep mauve.

“We’re not going to get answers like that.”

Livid, Daniella whirled on him, her eyes tinged crimson. “We’re not going to get answers from her…or from any of them. She killed an Elder. Blood for blood.”

He searched the field. They were far enough away to be nothing more than a smudge in the distant.

Simone lashed out with one last shred of strength. She grabbed at Daniella’s hair, but the First swatted her hand away as if the woman was some annoying gnat. She leaned close to the vilkacis’ ear. “The silver is working through your blood, killing you ever so slowly. A swift death is too good for you. You will think of the Elder you destroyed while you die." She dropped her like a fetid piece of fruit and snatched the gun from his hand. Daniella fired two more shots close to the heart before tossing him the weapon. She turned away and stepped through the grass toward the hangar.

He heard a choked whisper. “Alleandros.” He looked down. Simone struggled against a death she couldn’t fight. Pity filled him again, the human side he could not, and would not ignore. He concentrated his dark gifts into the body of a woman he didn’t know a thing about, and who he’d just helped destroy. He conjured fire, hotter than the pits of hell. The Nine burst into flames for mere seconds before blackening into ash. She didn't make a sound. He turned and caught up to Daniella.

“They’ve been hunting the Elders, Aiden.”

“Think about it, Daniella.” He looked back once before continuing. “It's the law of the jungle, right? Kill the strongest in the herd and the younger ones starve and fall. They’re hunting like a fucking pack...an army, picking off the generals.”

“How many do you think are left?” Do you mean the Nine or the Elders here?

He shrugged. “You’re asking the wrong person.”

She stopped and faced him. Shoulders straightened and that steely resolve he loved so much returned the fire in her eyes. “Every Elder knows of this parley. They’ll all be here, Aiden. We’ve played right into their hands.”