Genesis: A Soul Savers Novella (10 page)

“We’ll stay here for the night,” Eris finally said when they appeared outside a cave on the side of a mountain. She had to shout over the sound of a raging waterfall across the valley. The air here was much colder and crisper than where they had been just that morning—according to Eris, they’d already traveled much farther in one day than they had in all the weeks past.

Inside the cave, a mound of furry pelts sat near the wall. Eris sorted them into two piles and Jordan quickly realized they weren’t just flat furs. Some were stitched into the form of heavy cloaks and coverings for their legs.

“You’ve been here before,” he said, stating the obvious.

“Another of my homes.” She flicked her fingers and flames burst from the stone floor. She handed Jordan a cloak and leg coverings. “It gets very cold here, especially at night.”

Although the air itself seemed to freeze after the sun set and Jordan had never felt so cold in all his years and all his travels, Eris still kept him at a distance. They lay on opposite sides of the fire under the heavy furs and she continued her on-going explanation about the creatures that made up the Daemoni. Besides vampyres and mages, the Ancients had created shifters or, as Eris sometimes called them, Weres. A number of Ancients had taken the bodies of every kind of predatory animal that lived on Earth and, using their unearthly powers, created beasts that could transform into human shape and back again.

“You have encountered one,” she said. “A werewolf. Your sister’s friend almost killed him.”

“That was a werewolf?” Jordan asked.
I was right! It wasn’t a normal wolf.

“The Daemoni have been living among humans since nearly the beginning of time. People who disappear, seemingly lost in the woods or wilderness...they become food. Or sometimes one of us. A vampyre or shapeshifter, that is. No human can
become
a mage. We are born.”

“Vampyres and shifters are not?”

“Weres can be born, but they can also be created through infection of a human. Vampyres can only reproduce by draining a human’s blood and then replacing it with some of their own. The human nearly dies and nearly comes back to life. But not all the way.”

“Like those soldiers Cassandra saw,” Jordan muttered, recalling his sister’s story.

“Hmph. Another problem with vampyres. The Ancients want them to keep creating more and battlefields provide perfect opportunities, but they are usually sloppy at it. They shouldn’t let their children rise all alone like that. It’s too dangerous.”

“Are you saying you care about the humans they’ll attack?”

“Of course not. I care for our secrecy. Abandoned newborns can ruin us.”

The following day, Eris led him again on flashes through the mountains until they appeared on a snow-covered expanse of land bordering a lake so large, Jordan couldn’t see the other side. Perhaps it was a sea. He found the whites and blues of the landscape beautiful in a completely opposite way of how he thought of home as beautiful, but he saw no indication of any kind of life—not human or animal or inhuman. At least, not until Eris waved her hands and an entire village suddenly appeared around them.

The village was small, made of several tents encircling an open area where people dressed in furs gathered around a large fire pit in the center.

“Shaman,” Eris said, nodding at them. “That’s what they call themselves, though they are essentially witches and wizards. Follow me.”

She led him into one of the tents made of animal skins stretched over long logs. The tent was barren inside, showing no signs of being used. Jordan wondered if this was another of Eris’s homes, but before he could ask, she waved her hands over the center of the floor and a hole opened up before them. Crude stairs carved into the earth descended into darkness. She led him downward.

The stairs became a tunnel that continued down, far below the Earth’s surface. Just when Jordan began to tire of this unending descent, the tunnel flattened and opened wider, into a network of caves. The deeper they went, the more Jordan realized it was like an underground city, lit by fires in sconces on the walls and in pits dotting the caverns. People who weren’t really human—he could feel the magick crackling in the air—milled about, conversing in languages unfamiliar to him.

In one cave they passed, a pale-skinned vampyre bent over a naked human, his mouth at her throat and his hand between her legs. She didn’t struggle, even seemed to be enjoying it, as the vampyre drained her blood. In another cavern, three men sat around a wooden table and gnawed on bones, their teeth scraping and pulling off the raw meat, reminding Jordan of wild dogs consuming their kill. Yet, in others, men and women traded furs and pelts, jewels and other goods, just as they did in the agora back home.

Eris tugged at his hand. He’d slowed, distracted by all the activity, but she told him they still had a ways to go. They left what must have been the city’s center, passing more caves, these dark and cold. Moaning, growls and even cries of pain filled the air. Finally, they came to the end of the passage. A heavy wooden door with two beastly men blocked their way. Eris murmured something to them in a language Jordan didn’t know and tossed her head toward him. They nodded and one stepped back while the other opened the door.

They passed into a large, circular room with hearths carved into the walls every ten or so strides, fires burning within them. Jordan had never seen flames with such vivid colors of green, purple, pink and blue. In a semi-circle of chairs that looked like king’s thrones sat figures covered in black cloaks, hiding their forms and faces. Naked women fed them grapes, wine and even their own blood, holding their wrists to where the figures’ mouths were hidden in shadows. The evil power thrummed in the room, almost tangible, giving Jordan a thrill.

“Welcome, Jordan,” one of them said, rising from his chair and dismissing the attractive blond who’d been sitting on his lap. “We have been waiting for you.”

Eris dipped into a sort of curtsey. “Father.”

“Thank you, Eris.” The figure removed his hood, revealing a young-looking face with Eris’s dark eyes and the white hair of someone very elderly. He eyed Jordan and smiled. A proud smile. “Do you know where you are, Jordan?”

“Hell?”

Someone laughed—one of the cloaked figures standing by a fire. He turned toward Jordan, but kept his hood in place, showing nothing of his face. “Very close, indeed. As close as you can get on this side of the veil between here and the Otherworld. How does that make you feel?”

Jordan lifted his chest, bowing up. “At home, to be honest.”

He felt more at home here than he’d ever had with his family. They feared their darkness, tried to hide it, pretended they were something they were not. Made him feel like an outcast of his own kin because he let that darkness show, sometimes even embraced it. Here, he could be himself. Here, he belonged, like he had nowhere before. He felt it in his bones.

“Very good, then. That’s what we hoped to hear. But still … you must prove yourself worthy.”

“Worthy of what?” Jordan asked.

“Worthy of joining us,” another figure answered. “This is not a place for weak humans.”

“I am not weak and prefer not to be compared to the humans.”

“We shall see,” Eris’s father said. “Do you believe in God? The one God?”

The way he said “one God” sounded as though he mocked the idea.

Jordan cocked his head. “I did before. Then I wasn’t sure, until my father shared his truth with me. Proved to me that angels and demons exist, so God and Satan must exist, too. With all I have seen in the world, however, I find it difficult to believe that God truly cares for us.”

“Because he doesn’t,” said someone sitting in one of the thrones. “God only cares for himself. He wants all the glory. He wants all the control. He wants everyone to submit to His will. Bah!”

Noises of disgust and anger filled the room, then quieted when Eris’s father, the sorcerer, stepped forward.

“
Our
Lord, however, would be a much better god,” he said. “He doesn’t want all the glory. He wants his followers to keep it for themselves, to feel pride in their accomplishments and who they are. He doesn’t want control, but promises everyone would be allowed to do whatever they want. He will not ask you to submit to his will.” The sorcerer continued sauntering toward Jordan as he spoke, his voice slightly rising as his excitement grew. “When God demands everyone to care for others, Our Lord says, ‘Why? You need only to care for yourself.’ God wants humans to be more like Him, but Our Lord points out the truth—that it’s unnatural. Humans
aren’t
gods. They should be allowed to be human.” He stood right in front of Jordan now and leaned even closer. He dropped his voice to nearly a whisper. “And the inhuman should be allowed to be their natural selves, too.”

Jordan’s eyes lit up. “I think I like this lord of yours. He is … ?”

“Satan, yes,” the sorcerer said. “The truly better god. Do you agree?”

Jordan didn’t have to think about it for long. The choice was simple. “How can I not agree? He offers so much more.”

The figure by the fire moved between two thrones, into the center of the room. He didn’t so much as walk as he did glide. More figures rose from the thrones and gathered in the center, too, encroaching on Jordan and Eris.

“He offers
everything
,” one said. “Money, land, women …
power
. Especially to you, Jordan.”

“To me?”

“He’s been waiting for you. He was concerned with the prophecy about your mother at first, even sent us after her to prevent her from bearing children, but when he learned she would give birth to you, he realized he’d misunderstood. Your sister means nothing to him. He’s no longer worried about her, when we have you.”

Jordan’s chest rose with pride once again.

“But first you must prove yourself worthy,” Eris’s father said. “Prove you can be one of us. Have you taken my daughter yet?”

Jordan looked at Eris and back at her father, surprised at the turn in conversation. “No, sir.”

“Why not?”

“She told me she is not that kind of woman and I respected her wishes.”

Eris’s father laughed. So did several others. Jordan looked at Eris again, expecting her to be blushing. She wasn’t. Her eyes glowed with a knowing look. She licked her lips, her tongue running slowly over the full, pink skin.

“How very
human
of you,” her father said. He turned toward the others. “I told you he was too weak.”

Jordan bowed up again. “I am not
weak
!”

“Then prove it,” one of the cloaked figures commanded. “Take her.”

“Certainly,” Jordan agreed.

“Now. Here,” another said.

“Here?” Jordan asked.
In front of them? In front of her own
father
?

“Can you take orders or not?” someone demanded.

Jordan looked at Eris again. She stood completely still, her body rigid and her face devoid of any emotion.

“Take her whether she wants it or not!”

“Prove yourself, Jordan, or we have no need for you.”

“He’s not worthy,” Eris’s father said dismissively. “Get him out of here. Give him to the wolves.”

Fear of being exiled from where he belonged—rejected by his own kind—jolted through his body.
What do I care about Eris?
If forcing his way with her would prove he was worthy and satisfy them, then that’s what he would do. He clamped his hand around her wrist and jerked her into his arms. Everyone fell silent. He braced the back of her head, preventing her from turning away from him, and crushed his mouth onto hers.

To his surprise, her lips yielded to his, parted, allowed his tongue into her mouth. He’d been yearning for this moment since he first laid eyes on her, wanting to feel her softness under his fingers, under himself. He grew hard against her belly and she pressed herself against him, making him shudder. She moved her mouth over his cheek and to his ear.