Rebirth of the Heroes Page 4

  The amount they drank was shocking. During their time together it was clear they drank a lot, but at that rate, they would have to be drunk all the time. She struggled to imagine needing, or wanting, to drink that much, but hearing Slava was proud of her made her heart soar. He had become a kind of surrogate grandfather toward her. It seemed a little dirty though, to view him like that, given her feelings for Lance.

  She sighed. Life shouldn't be so complicated—if only there was a way to go back before her parents died.

  "What is it?" Slava asked.

  "Nothing, I was just thinking about shifting. I didn't know I would be so strong."

  "Yes. You will be a great fighter. Lance is glad he changed his mind. Now you rest. He will be back soon."

  Kandice closed her eyes again. Soon, her mind filled with thoughts of Lance.

  They were alone again in the forest, but they weren't training. She grabbed his arms and pinned him to the ground. His eyes shimmered in the sunlight. As she ripped his shirt off, his teeth shone white through a massive smile. His lips were soft, and his tongue moved with grace.

  He flipped her to her back, and his hand worked its way down her pants. First, undoing the button then, sliding the zipper down. When his fingers pushed back the top of her panties, she moaned.

  * * *

  "She woke up for a moment," Slava said. "She has been asleep since."

  "Good," Lance said. "I can't believe she woke up. I worried when she passed out in the SUV."

  "She is a fighter."

  "I think she might become a better one than you," Lance said. "Maybe even me."

  "You never knew me when I was your age."

  Kandice opened her eyes. She couldn't hold on to the dream with the sound of their voices.

  "She's up," Lance said. "How do you feel?"

  "Okay," she said.

  All the pain was gone, but her panties were sticking to her. A hot shower sounded perfect.

  Lance reached under her and pulled the metal seal off her back. She shivered as his fingers grazed against her skin.

  "Are you sure? You look flustered." Lance placed his hand against her forehead. "I think you might have a fever."

  "I'll be fine," she said. It was time to go home, to her shower, and her bed.

  "Actually," she said. "I need to get home. Where are my keys?"

  She patted down her pants, but there was nothing in her pockets.

  "They are here," Slava said, picking them up from a bowl on the counter.

  "She's in no condition to drive," Lance said. "If you need to go that bad, I'll drive you home."

  "Oh, no," she said. "That's okay. I'm fine."

  Being in a confined area with him wasn't a good idea.

  "I insist," he said.

  The look on his face said no was not an option. If she wanted to get home for a shower, he would be the one to drive her there.

  "Fine." She threw her hands up in surrender.

  Slava packed her a small bag with an extra metal seal for her to put on before bed, a small bottle of vodka, and an herb pack for tea that would help her sleep. Lance insisted on helping her into the SUV. He seemed to not believe she could manage on her own, and it annoyed her a little.

  Chivalry is one thing, but no should mean no.

  The drive was awkward for Kandice, because he still smelled like barbecue to her, which made her hungry and horny. She'd never been so sexually frustrated in her life. Her mind screamed, rip his clothes off and fuck him in the back seat now or else.

  When they got to her apartment, Lance walked her to her front door. She invited him in since it would seem rude not to.

  "We need to get you a car or SUV," he said.

  The comment caught Kandice off guard. "Why?"

  "Well," he said. "A moped isn't safe. If you ever need to chase someone, I doubt it could keep up if they got on a highway."

  In the few times so far that it had come down to a car chase, her moped hadn't kept up at all.

  "I don't have the money for a car."

  "I've told you. We've got plenty of money. Tomorrow, we'll go pick a car out. We'll use our guy, so he can make the fake registration. That way, if you ever need to ditch it, you don't have to worry."

  Kandice forgot they could make money out of thin air. They lived such a modest lifestyle she kept writing them off as half-poor.

  The car idea made sense. An unregistered car would make things a lot easier for her if the cops ever got involved. She'd seen him and Slava change out cars so many times by now it had become normal to her.

  "Okay," she said.

  "Do you have any vodka?" Lance asked.

  "There's some in the bag on the counter."

  "I don't need any. You'll need it later, though. You should have a drink about every two hours. It will keep the pain down, and it kind of helps with the urges."

  "Urges?" she asked.

  "You know what I mean."

  He looked her square in the eyes. "The urge to eat and fuck."

  Her cheeks reddened. She hadn't expected him to know, but then she realized he must go through the same thing all the time.

  "Do the urges ever go away?" she asked.

  "No," he said. "They actually get stronger. It's yet another reason Slava and I drink so much."

  "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "Would it have changed your mind?"

  "No."

  "I didn't think so. I didn't say anything because I thought it would come off as me hitting on you."

  "Oh," she said.

  I'm a fool.

  Her thoughts flashed back to that night in the river. It had just been him shifted. He didn't actually find her attractive. If he had let her in on this, it would have helped her own feelings.

  "It's been hard enough," he said. "It's the main reason I have to drink so much around you."

  "What do you mean?" she asked.

  "You're fucking hot," he said, not breaking eye contact with her. "It's why I stopped to talk to you the first time we met. Slava scolded me afterward. We couldn't have known you could see everything, and he warned me to keep things in check."

  "But why not say something after that?"

  "Well, we were getting to know you. Besides, you being able to help us was more important than my attraction."

  Kandice grabbed the back of his head and forced his lips to hers. The heat between them was electric. Her body screamed for more. It was everything she hoped it would be and more.

  Then he pulled away. "No . . ."

  It took a moment for her to come back to reality.

  "What?" she asked. "You said—"

  "I meant it," he said. "But this can't happen. At least not right now."

  "Why not?"

  "You're new to shifting. It will affect your sex life most of all. Trust me. After we kill the mayor, I'll explain more. If you still want to then, well I'll be lucky."

  "I'm going to shower." Her voice was cold, but her blood was hot.

  Not looking back at him, her clothes peeled off before she'd reached the bathroom. The mind games were too much. So many rules, so many secrets, it was enough for one day. He knew where the door was.

  The water was at maximum heat, but somehow it wasn't warm against her skin. She stood under the water, letting the steam build up around her.

  Of course, becoming an oboroten would come at the cost of sex. Life is a prick!

  INTERLUDE I

  Emerald Nation, Fencura

  Mobo Okonkwo stood on the balcony overlooking the gardens, filled with native and exotic plants, all in pristine condition and planted to display the most beauty possible. His twin children ran around playing tag, ducking and weaving through the plants and stone walkways while laughing and giggling. Amethyst lanterns were lit around the garden to keep the evening's darkness at bay.

  He clenched his hand into a fist and slammed it onto the balcony rail he was propped against. After a grunt and clenching his teeth, he turned and walked into the palace. Throug
h the halls, he stamped his way to where he knew his wife resided. Every subject he past stopped what they were doing to bow and pay their respect to their king, but he didn't acknowledge a single one of them. His mind was elsewhere.

  When he threw open the door to her chamber, she startled in her chair and placed her hand mirror down on the table beside her. She gave him a little smile, but his unmoving expression caused it to fade. She embraced her husband's harsh words since his expression betrayed his anger.

  "Why aren't they studying?" he asked through clenched teeth. His cheeks had turned red from his hasty walk and aggressive thoughts.

  "The twins?" she asked.

  "Yes, the twins," he said. "At this hour of the day, they should be engrossed in their studies."

  Rayowa stood from her chair and walked over to the window to let the light breeze enter the room. She shivered a little, but whether it was from the wind or the fear of her husband's rage, she couldn't tell.

  "You're too hard on them," she said. "They are just children and soon enough the weight of the world will be placed on their shoulders. Let them have some time to be children because the rest of their lives will be filled with royal decrees, tasks, and labors."

  "If they aren't prepared to handle that weight when it comes, it will crush them," he said. "Zaria needs powerful rulers to maintain its influence in the world."

  "They will grow up with anger," she said. "You need to have a gentler touch, just like you need to with me. You've become too harsh, you put too much work on the children. They'll resent you, and that won't make for good rulers. Just as they need to learn to be rulers, you need to learn how to love again. You haven't slept in the same room as me for a year because you've lost that ability of love."

  "You speak nonsense, I'm only harsh out of love," he said. "Abaze is nearly a man and needs to put his childhood aside. He needs to learn warfare and how to rule with effective authority. By now, he should already know the basics of swordsmanship, but you've held him back from such things. This is about the love of kinship, something you clearly care little about."

  "I love our children," she said, "and if you love them too, then you'll heed my word and not be so stringent. If you don't, then I'll take the children and go far away, never to return."

  Mobo's eyes tightened, and he pressed his jaw tightly then turned away from Rayowa. "The boy needs to become a man, it's inevitable, but I will hold off their lessons until their naming day where they will fully cast aside their childhoods, learn to properly rule, and take up the mantle of a proper prince and princess. Together they will govern responsibly over minor aspects of the city. A training ground to prove themselves."

  Mobo began to walk away, but Rayowa grabbed his arm to stop him. "Please don't throw them into anything dangerous, you don't want your heirs to be dead before their rightful time to rule."

  He remained facing the door. "Out of my love for you and them, I will keep that word, but they will face the bitterness of ruling one day. Nothing in their training will be dangerous enough to take their life, that would be foolish on my part. And I'm anything but."

  Mobo finally turned and could see the pain and fear in his wife's eyes as if he had struck her. Taking a deep breath, he untensed himself as best as possible. The pain remained in Rayowa's expression and she turned away from him. Mobo stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

  "Would you come to stay in my room tonight?" Mobo asked.

  "Not tonight," Rayowa said.

  * * *

  The twins dashed through servants—who carried dirty dishes from the dining hall—trying not to interfere with their work, while simultaneously picking the fastest route through the caravan of workers.

  Abaze accidentally bumped into a woman with an armful of plates. She grunted in dismay as Abaze mouthed the words that he was sorry while continuing to chase after his sister.

  Adaku darted up a spiraling staircase, out of sight. When he reached the next level, he couldn't see or hear her anywhere. Searching for his sister, who he knew was hiding from him, he stumbled over a loose board.

  I know you're around here, Abaze transmitted. You couldn't have gotten far.

  You'll never find me, Adaku transmitted. I've always been better than you at hide and seek.

  He searched behind the massive potted plants and the furniture along the hall—which was more for decoration than actual sitting—it was a crime sit in the presence of the king unless invited to do so. Abaze even glanced underneath a thick rug, even though he knew it was foolish since he would see a lump underneath it. Surrendered to the fact he couldn't find her, he crept down the hall.

  I think you forgot something, Adaku transmitted.

  Abaze spun on his heels to find his sister standing right behind him. They both laughed.

  The spectacle confused a servant who was dusting objects at the end of the hall while watching the children. They acted as if they'd shared a joke, but exchanged no words. Assuming it was childish games, she returned to her dusting.

  Okay, we've had enough fun for today, Abaze transmitted. It's time we tell somebody about this.

  But I like that it's our little secret. It's our thing, Adaku transmitted. Abaze only looked at her with a curled lip. Seems all of father's talk of responsibility is finally catching up to you. Okay, but I think we should tell Kelechi, he probably knows a thing or two about it. He knows everything.

  That's why father keeps him around, Abaze transmitted. We have the most prestigious court sorcerer in all the Emerald Nation.

  Adaku nodded, and the two walked down the hall to search for the court sorcerer. They checked his study first but found only books residing on the sorcerer's desk with a single candle burning all alone. It meant he couldn't be too far.

  Next they checked the library—the last place Abaze ever wanted to visit—where they found a few acolytes submerged in their reading and quiet conversations of high intellect. They passed the dining hall, but nobody was inside, and continued on to the gardens.

  Gardeners were hard at work tending to the various colored plants and trimming back weeds so the flowers could catch everyone's attention. When they noticed Kelechi on one of the stone benches, they approached, but he was in deep conversation with one of their father's advisors. Adaku stopped walking toward him, but Abaze continued straight for him.

  Not now, Abaze, Adaku transmitted. Remember how angry father was the last time we interrupted the import work of one of his advisors.

  Yeah, I don't think I've ever had to stay in my room for such a long time, Abaze transmitted. We'll have to catch him once he is done.

  The children lingered around the garden, waiting for Kelechi's conversation to be over, but when the sorcerer rose from his seat, so did the advisor, and together they walked, still conversing. Both children sighed and looked at each other with discontent, as they wanted to be doing other things with their time. They started to follow them, but Kelechi glanced back at them with a stern glare before rounding a corner.

  He must think we are up to some sort of game, Adaku transmitted.

  Assuming that he thought the twins were trying to eavesdrop on his conversation, they decided to trail way behind him.

  Or they are talking about something secretive, Abaze argued. Let's separate but keep an eye on him so we can talk to him before he moves on with his evening routine, we'll surely not get to talk to him then.

  The two continued to prance around the castle, avoiding the work of the servants and the watchful eyes of the adults. More than once one of them had to avoid their mother or father, who would surely pull them away for something different. Or chastise them for being in the way of important talks and labors. One of them always remained near Kelechi, waiting for the moment to talk, but another advisor joined and the three of them grew lost in conversation.

  As the twins continued to wait, several people gathered in the council chambers. Abaze spotted his father walking with a few others toward the room. Which meant that everyone of im
portance would be gathering there and they'd miss their chance to speak with the sorcerer for the evening—the council meetings always dragged long into the night.

  Have you seen him? Abaze transmitted. He must be on his way to the council chambers, people are gathering there.

  I lost him, Adaku transmitted. But just as she thought it, she noticed Kelechi turning around a corner.

  She rushed over to him since he was alone and grabbed his arm to get his attention.

  "What is it, dear child?" Kelechi asked.

  "Kelechi, I need to talk to you about something," Adaku said.

  "Unfortunately, I'm very busy at the moment," the sorcerer said. "Perhaps another time."

  Kelechi started to pull himself away, and Adaku glanced around to make sure no one would hear her. The hall was empty. "My brother and I can talk to each other using our thoughts."

  "Is that so?" Kelechi asked and brought his attention back to her. "Are you certain?"

  Can you hear me this way? Adaku asked, and the sorcerer smiled.

  "Brilliant, my dear," Kelechi said. "That's quite the gift bestowed upon you and your brother. I can help you two to hone such an ability. We sorcerers are known for our telepathy. Now, I must gather with the others, but I want you and your brother to find me tomorrow."

  "Thank you, Kelechi," Adaku said.

  The sorcerer bowed to her, then transmitted to her as she ran in the other direction, don't let anyone else know. This will be our little secret for now.

  Adaku glanced back at the man with a smile, then vanished down the corridor while Kelechi reached the door of the council chamber. The sorcerer made a few glances around to see if anyone was watching him, and instead of entering, he walked away and made for his study.

  A light rain pattered at the window outside of Kelechi's office. He'd closed the door to his study and relit the candle which had faded out, cleared a portion of his desk, and took out a fresh piece of parchment from his paper drawer. He dipped a quill into an ink bottle that always sat full at the top left of his desk and began writing his message in his unique writing style.

  After writing his message and signing his name at the bottom, he glanced over it to make sure that he'd done it properly. He rolled the paper up and put it into a small wooden carrier, then walked to the window, which he opened against the breeze. Moments later, as if called by an unheard whistle, a raven landed on the windowsill. The bird eyed him, discontent from being summoned in the rain, then let out a loud caw before flapping its wings to shed the water from its feathers.