Later that night…
Orion scowled as he approached the quaint white house located nearly an hour’s drive north of Chicago. Of course, he hadn’t driven. That was a skill of the modern age he found no interest in acquiring. Instead, he’d flown as a murder of crows so that he could gaze down upon everything beneath him.
And it was beneath him…
Not a single soul existing in the city, not even the younger generations of the Children of Shadows, had any clue as to exactly what terrible fates beheld them.
Orion stared at the small white house in front of him. He now stood in front of the home of the greatest crime against humanity, and his fiercest rival, The Butcher of Naples, Lord Stefan Nelek.
A growl rumbled in his chest. He despised coming here. He hated being here more than he hated Lord Nelek himself. However, appearing here was part of the match. It was the way they had engaged in this…recreation…for nearly thirty thousand years. This was an enduring tradition, and one he refused to rend asunder.
He glared between the two
Rotweilers
resting back on their haunches, guarding the entrance to the house. How little the world truly knew, and how clouded were its perceptions.
He willed the simple wooden gate to open, and as he crossed onto the grounds, crimson waves of magical energy flared around him. The quaint little house disappeared scant seconds later, and in its place loomed Castle Nelek.
Orion had seen the spectacle thousands of times in his existence. Yet, he found no awe in it. Indeed, it was a medieval castle in its truest form. The structure had been built from the blackest volcanic stone, and was larger than any building human kind would ever dream or dare to create. Crests of Nelek flew from towers that seemed to touch the sky, while twenty foot stone walls surrounded the edifice, cutting it off from the world around it.
Even the land beyond the walls grew and bloomed with nature the world hadn’t seen in millennia. However, the sweet scents of flowers that had been lost to the ages were nearly imperceptible, overshadowed by the fetid odor of death that hung heavy in the air.
This was not the home of a man. This was the home of a vicious, malignant force that attempted to guide the world with an iron fist.
Orion lowered his gaze from the castle and leveled it on the
Rotweilers
. No longer were they simple dogs. Now, they were ancient creatures that once fueled the greatest legends of medieval times. One ashen gray and one rust colored dragon guarded the wrought iron gates inside the main walls of the castle. Neither was less that forty feet tall, nor had a wingspan less than eighty feet wide. And though they truly were a sight to behold, Orion remained unmoved.
He approached the wrought iron gates and waited to be formally acknowledged. The wait wasn’t long, as Alfred, Lord Nelek’s personal
Servio,
opened the massive front doors of the castle and made his way to the gate.
“He’s been expecting you, Orion,” Alfred said with a nod.
Orion returned the respect. “Tradition breeds expectation. I have come to move my piece.”
The Ancient servant pulled the heavy gate open with ease. “Please, enter at your leisure.”
Orion stepped inside and followed Alfred into the main hall. While he waited to be announced, he cast his gaze to the tapestries and oil paintings hanging from the stone walls, all of which had been lost to the human world centuries ago. Their beauty was only second to the sculptures and busts adorning the wide hallways branching from the main room.
“He will see you now,” Alfred said as he opened the heavy blackened doors leading to Nelek’s private chambers.
Orion nodded to Alfred once more then made his way into the chamber. For any other being, this moment would have been absolutely terrifying. But for him, this moment had become a deplorable routine. Where others might have turned to run, he moved in no direction but forward. Where others would have surely faltered…Orion was stoic.
He crossed the distance between the door and Stefan’s throne in a few long strides. Stopping at the stairs leading up to where the Master of the castle sat, he stared at the grotesque chair and smiled. The throne, constructed from the bones of Stefan’s favored fallen enemies, was ever incomplete, as the space for Orion’s own skull was still empty.
Orion turned his gaze to his rival. Stefan was unchanging in a world he’d left behind millennia ago. His obsidian black armor glowed as the open ceiling allowed silver rays of moonlight to play across the room. Long black hair framed his unnaturally perfect and alabaster face. And where his eyes had once been only burnt out hollows remained, making it nearly impossible to discern where he focused his true attention.
But make no mistake, Stefan Nelek was not blind. He saw the world with a clarity that many would forever only dream of.
To Orion, there was nothing strangely beautiful or even remotely human about the creature. And where others would have fallen on their knees in reverence, he stood in absolute defiance.
“Running a bit late, aren’t we?”
Orion smiled as the room itself spoke. He swore the creature hadn’t moved its own seemingly human lips in years. “I had other things to do.”
“I was worried, Orion. I wouldn’t want anything
bad
to happen to you, especially when you come here in defeat.”
Orion waved away the latter part of the comment. “I wasn’t aware you were still capable of emotion. Worry is a rather human condition, is it not?”
“As is weeping, yet you wept when I destroyed your beloved city.”
Orion clenched his jaw. There was no honor to this man. “If I recall correctly, I believe you did the same when I destroyed yours. Now, if you’re finished with your attempt to anger my blood, shall we continue on to the purpose of my appearance?”
“At your leisure, you are the loser this time,” Stefan said as he waved a mailed hand.
Orion watched as the stone floor in front of him liquefied, and then rose to form the ancient chess board that held his now worthless pawn. He stared down at the remaining pieces as he contemplated his next move.
Stefan Nelek shifted his gaze to Orion, whose green eyes glowed with intense thought. As much as he hated the man, this was one of the few moments he found even a shred of amusement in.
Orion had never been gracious or honorable in defeat.
He tilted his head as he pondered the numerous human qualities Orion still possessed. The man’s garb was not modern, giving away that he too clung to a time long forgotten. His black hair, which starkly contrasted the silver streaks that began scant centimeters above either temple, hung loose around his shoulders to frame an imperfect human face that still retained the bronze hue the sun had once bestowed upon it. And the vibrancy of his dark green eyes only served as confirmation of his overly emotional connection to the world.
He grinned at the notion. That very connection had always been, and would forever be, Orion’s downfall…if not his undoing.
Growing impatient with the length of his opponent’s thoughts, Stefan leaned forward and plucked Orion’s lost piece from the board. He regarded the pawn thoughtfully for a moment. Natasha Stryker had been a very poor choice for Orion. She had caused him yet another defeat in the match, and a defeat he could ill afford.
“She certainly didn’t stand as a testament to your cause, Orion.”
“How was I to know she would attempt to overthrow Christian Locke? I don’t control my pawns as you do. I still allow them to enact their own free will.”
“I do no such thing,” Stefan said. “I merely arrange situations in which their choices determine the outcome. The amusement of this game is the chance. If I desired a specific outcome, I would take the world and make it as I saw fit. And that wouldn’t amuse me nearly as much as this does,” he said as he closed his hand, crushing the small ivory carving that resembled Stryker.
After watching the dust fall to the floor, Stefan leaned forward and removed Toni Tutoro’s piece from the board. He considered her for a moment as well, and then placed her on the stone shelf cut into the side of the pedestal holding the board.
“What are you doing?” Orion asked. “She wins the space Stryker occupied. Place her back where she belongs so we can continue.”
“I am removing Toni Tutoro from the board at my own expense. I made a promise nearly two decades ago that our chosen recreation would never touch the lives of Justin Black’s children, and unlike some, I honor my words. Toni has found love with Drake. No more needs be said.”
“Very well, then. Although I find myself somewhat taken aback, considering your decision to forfeit her space not only leaves a gaping hole in your defense, but also allows me choose a gallery piece and challenge for the square all over again. However, if that’s your heartfelt wish, I’ll agree to it.”
“Please stop wasting my time with your banter. I’m well acquainted with the rules of our game. Either choose a piece that is currently in play or select another from the gallery to replace Stryker. Finish your move.”
Orion’s eyes drifted over the pieces in play, and then to the gallery of those waiting. He gave an extended and wholly unnecessary amount of thought to every individual he surveyed before he finally reached a decision.
Stefan considered the distinctive obsidian likeness now sharing a space with Orion’s newly chosen piece. “You would threaten him so soon after the courtesy he extended Drake?”
Orion nodded. “He’s obviously in a weakened state. Now is the perfect time to lay him low.”
“So be it,” Stefan said as he waved away the board. “Let the new match begin.”
***
Three months later…
Drake repeatedly tapped his free hand against the steering wheel as he pulled into his driveway shortly before sunset. He’d been away for almost a week, fulfilling a contact that had left him a little worse for wear, but with no major injuries.
He jumped out of the car the second the engine died, grabbed his duffle bag from the trunk, and then ran into the house. After closing the door behind him, he dropped the bag on the floor and kicked his shoes off. He couldn’t help the smile draped all the way across his face. If he hurried, maybe he could slide in next to her before she even woke up.
Drake pulled the present he’d bought her from his bag, and then jogged down the hallway. He stopped just outside the door and frowned as an odd feeling washed over him. He’d done this once before and it’d gone horribly wrong.
It was a memory he still couldn’t quite get away from.
It wasn’t until he reached for the door that Drake realized his hand was shaking. After taking a short series of deep breaths, he turned the handle and pushed the door open. All he wanted to see was her beautiful face…
And that was exactly what he saw.
Toni was lying on his side of the bed, wearing one of his t-shirts, with his pillow tucked up underneath her chin.
He smiled at the sight then blew out the nervous breath he’d been holding. It wasn’t that he doubted her. He never doubted her…he doubted himself. He still had trouble believing a woman like her could love a man like him. Sometimes, he even pinched her in the middle of the day to make sure she was real. And sometimes, she didn’t appreciate that very much.
He chuckled at the thought. Regardless of her mood, Toni was absolutely amazing. Everything she said, and everything she did, more often than not left him utterly speechless.
When he’d gone with her to her family home, at first he wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle it. But she had, and she’d done so in a way that had completely astounded him. She’d cried as she walked through the house, holding his hand. But somehow she’d found the strength to tell him nearly every memory she had of living there.
He’d always known how much her family meant to her, but after listening to her and being there with her, he finally understood what she’d meant. Because the way she felt about them – was the exact same way he felt about her.