Blood & Fur-Chapter One-Hundred and One: In Death’s Arms

Nenetl turned out to have inherited more than her kindness from Father, as he was the one who handily won their game.

I acquainted myself well at the game and ended up in third place, behind my sister and ahead of my mother. I had half expected Ichtaca to throw a fit upon finishing last considering how badly she took any failure, but she seemed to have enjoyed herself enough to smile thinly once she finally reached the finish line.

“It was fun,” I said once Nenetl eventually called it for the night and left me alone with my parents, alive and dead. I welcomed that break after the tension of the last few days.

Mother usually would have followed up that sentence by calling the game a waste of time once, but she surprised me once again. “It was… pleasant,” she said, sounding almost taken aback by her own words. “It was pleasant.”

“I do hope we can do that again soon,” Father agreed.

“I am tired, however, and shall retire to my quarters.” Mother met my gaze. “Will we see you on the other side, my son?”

“I doubt it,” I replied. I was nowhere near tired enough to sleep soundly, and no spell would lull me to slumber. My vitality had grown so potent that I could shrug off even Necahual’s sleeping draughts. “I will see what I can do.”

“I’ll… do the same.” Mother hesitated an instant before glancing at Father next. “Itzili, could you give us a moment?”

“Yes, of course,” Father replied softly. If anything, he sounded pleased Mother and I were making headway in mending our relationship. “I bid thee goodnight, my son.”

“As well, Father,” I replied. How odd. Even when watching my father’s skeleton shamble away to his chambers, this entire evening had felt so normal, so… pleasantly mundane. I struggled to recall a time when I had last experienced something like this.

When Mother and I were alone at last, she faced me with her arms crossed, her teeth biting her lips in hesitation. I stared back at her until I grew sick of the silence.

“Do you see what you cast away now?” I said with perhaps a bit more venom than I expected.

“You don’t need to rub it in, my son,” Mother snapped back, her back stiffening. “I’m… I’m aware.”

I was tempted to remind her she could have realized that years earlier without nearly sacrificing Father to the Lords of Terror, but I kept my mouth shut. For all of her faults, Mother was finally trying to become a better person. Pushing her too hard might cause her to relapse and snap back into her bad behavior. I wanted to help her improve, but it was difficult for me to see past all the lies, abandonment, and manipulations that led us here in the first place.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I didn’t mean to sound so aggressive.”

“Why?” Mother looked away. “I deserve it.”

I didn’t know how to answer that, because honestly, she did.

How did Father manage to always stay so supportive?

“What I asked earlier, about allowing your father to use the Ride spell on you…” Mother shook her head. “You can forget it.”

That took me aback. “Why?”

“I made that demand because I wanted to feel my husband’s warmth through you. I wanted to feel loved, but…” Mother’s expression darkened into a deep scowl of sorrow. “It wouldn’t be the same.”

I stared at her for an instant, hesitated, and then broke the awkward silence with a hug.

I couldn’t quite explain what passed through my mind. Part of me wanted to reach out to her in spite of our past, or I couldn’t help but feel some empathy for her sorrow and guilt. Whatever the case, it was clumsy on both of our ends because we were so unused to it.

I could sense the fear of rejection in Mother’s trembling fingers touching my back, the weakness in her arms, the lack of resistance when I pulled her close, the softness of her breath. She thought I would let her go anytime soon. Only when I refused to release her did she squeeze me back.

She’s warm. The thought first crossed my mind like a stray thought, but it soon echoed in my head stronger than before. She’s warm.

And I felt so cold all of a sudden.

She tried to awkwardly let go of me, her hands moving from my back to my chest, but I didn’t release my grip. I looked at her confused face, my eyes glancing down her lips and below. I suddenly noticed a startling detail I never paid too much attention to before.

My mother had such a lovely neck.

Her veins contrasted faintly with her pale skin. She was still young, healthy… warm, with blood that shone with sunlight. I glanced down at her exposed neckline above her breasts, at the clear opening.

“What is it, Iztac…” Mother’s breath had grown shorter. “Iztac?”

I couldn’t stop staring at her neck. The way her veins pulsed thick and thin beneath her skin, so close I could hear her heartbeat. I was entranced by that sound, like a lure I couldn’t resist.

I leaned a little bit closer to better focus on it, until my lips pressed against her vein. I felt a shiver coursing through Mother’s skin and heard a soft gasp in my ear. Her fingers gripped my shoulders a bit tighter than before, trying to push me back–

“What are you doing, my son?”

The dread in her voice jolted me out of my trance. I pulled away from Mother’s neckline, and I suddenly realized that my hands were holding her shoulders in a predatory grip. My tongue was dry in my mouth from a thirst I couldn’t describe.

I immediately let go of Mother. She stared at me with fear in her gaze, and a hint of shame of letting things get that far; though her palpable unease paled compared to mine.

“I…” I would have gulped if my mouth wasn’t dryer than a desert. “I didn’t mean–”

“You should rest,” Mother cut in, pulling her robes up to better cover her neckline. “I… I will see you tomorrow.”

She left in a hurry, leaving me alone with the unearthly cold coursing through me. I glanced at my shadow to find it far too dark and impenetrable from what the lighting would allow. I had finally managed to make progress with my mother, and I ruined it.

I hated it. I hated that compulsion, that sensation that my thoughts could stop being my own at any point, that I had escaped the Nightlords only to fall back into an even more insidious trap.

Worst of all, I still thirsted for blood.

I refused to indulge in it. Not only did the thought of becoming another bloodsucker—the very thing I hated most—disgusted me to my core, but I feared I would gain a taste for it. I wouldn’t allow myself to succumb to the First Emperor’s will.

What would it take to stave off the thirst before I did something I would regret? More embers would help, but I suspected Lord Quetzalcoatl wouldn’t bless me anytime soon.

I need warm flesh against my skin, I thought while returning to my bedchambers. Eztli helped me stave off the thirst with Seidr, so another session ought to suffice for the night; maybe more than one. What’s this?

I heard a harp song coming from my bedchambers, slow and enticing. I walked inside to find Astrid playing the harp in a corner, and her sister lying on my bed waiting for me.

“I was wondering when my lord would come,” Ingrid said, her lengthening hair tied into a braid falling off the side of her neckline. “I hope we do not intrude.”

She was naked.

Well, almost. While she wore neither clothes nor jewels, runic symbols were drawn with paint along her thighs, belly, and forehead. I immediately recognized a few of the inscriptions her mother Sigrun used to hide from view to practice Seidr rituals. Others were new to me.

“You never do, Ingrid,” I reassured her, my frozen blood stirring with desire. What an impeccable sense of timing. “Astrid, would you kindly leave us?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the young girl said with a shy bow before excusing herself. As much as I missed the music, she was a bit too young to see what would unfold. I did catch a glimpse of her reddening cheeks on her way out.

“My sister told me she hoped to marry my lord too once she flowered,” Ingrid said when I began to undress. “She has had a small crush on you since the hunt.”

“It will fade away with time, once she grows older and wiser,” I replied as I joined Ingrid in the bed. Astrid was many years too young for me to entertain any idea about her, though I had no doubt she would grow into a fine and lovely young woman. “Besides, I respect you too much to make a move on her.”

“A thought crossed my mind earlier.” Ingrid rested her head on her hand. “When Astrid told me about her crush, I realized I never considered living long enough to see my sister reach adulthood. I always thought one of us would die long before that time…” A look of sorrow passed on her face. “I believed Mother would outlive us all.”

My jaw clenched, the memory of my time with Sigrun flashing in my mind as well as the creature haunting me in the Underworld that resulted from that union. “I’m sorry I could not save her.”

“I do not blame you,” she reassured me. “You made it possible for me to dream about the future, Iztac. You’ve given me hope.” Ingrid’s hand playing with her braid. “I know I will never be enough for you on my own, and I have accepted that.”

“Ingrid–” freeweɓnovel.cѳm

“That is fine, Iztac,” she cut in. “I have come to terms with it. Being a future god’s consort is already a higher honor than I deserve.”

“You are no slave of mine,” I reminded her. Once I had killed Iztacoatl, she would be free from both men and vampires alike.

“I know.” Her hands gently reached out to my shoulders and pulled me closer. “But I belong to you all the same.”

I moved to kiss her on the lips, my chest pressed against her own while my hands roamed her waist. The sensation of her pulse coursing beneath her skin only heightened my desire for her.

The thirst isn’t as strong this time, I noticed. My mind remained clear. It was the sunlight in Mother’s blood that I craved, the essence of a dead sun. Maybe I can contain it so long as we aren’t in the same room for long…

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“What are these markings?” I questioned Ingrid once I broke our kiss. I trailed along the runes on her skin with my finger. “I don’t recognize them all.”

“Runes for Seidr rituals,” Ingrid replied. “I have studied my mother’s rune-coded notes for a long time to put them in practice, but I was afraid the Nightlords would notice should I use this knowledge in public.”

“Wise.” Seidr had been one of my few secret weapons in the fight against vampires. Alerting the Nightlords of this magic’s existence would have been a crippling blow. “What do they do?”

“The one on my forehead represents knowledge, and should improve memory transfer. My mother used it to pry secrets from emperors when they slept together, while I would like to share with you my knowledge of the Sapa language.” Ingrid moved my hand to the runes on her belly. “This one represents communion and should improve lifeforce transfer between us.”

“Lifeforce transfer?” My eyes widened in slight surprise. “You want to give me yours?”

Ingrid nodded sharply. “I am no practitioner of your secret arts, but I would assume that much like a man must rest after the effort, your power draws from a finite reserve that must be replenished.”

As always, her intelligence and wits never failed to amaze me. She had managed to pick up on some of my issues with only her observations and second-hand information.

“We call it Teyolia,” I replied with a frown. “Are you certain, Ingrid? This is no small matter, and my hunger is strong.”

“My lord is kind, but I am certain.” Ingrid smiled warmly at me, her hands trailing against my cheeks. “While I cannot fly nor unleash lightning from my fingers, I would like to assist my lord in any way I can.”

“I would grant you this power too if I could,” I said. I couldn’t claim Ingrid as a Mometzcopinque so long as Iztacoatl held Ingrid’s soul in bondage. “Although it would come with a cost.”

“I know,” Ingrid replied softly. “I would pay it nonetheless.”

There was no hesitation in her voice, no empty flattery, only the confidence of a strong-willed woman who knew exactly what she wanted. Her faith and trust in me warmed my heart.

After a moment’s hesitation, I cast the Doll spell and summoned hands of shadows. Ingrid briefly blinked in surprise as they moved to grab her breasts and fondle them. As for my hands of flesh, one of them moved behind Ingrid’s head to better press her face against mine; the other meanwhile slipped between her thighs and pleasured her womanhood.

“Is this good?” I asked Ingrid. This was my first time using the Doll spell this way.

“Yes,” Ingrid replied with a gasp of pleasure. “Yes, it is.”

Her moans brought a smile to my face. I began to pleasure her through multiple fronts with a dozen hands, pinching her nipples, fingering her womanhood, caressing her ass and cheeks while my lips ardently kissed their way down her neck. Ingrid gasped as she kissed and caressed me back, her fingers setting my skin ablaze with desire.

Once she was properly primed for our lovemaking, her hands hungrily grabbed my ass and pushed me down all of a sudden. I slipped my manhood inside her like a finger in a glove, her arms coiling around my back. The runes sharpened on her skin as the Seidr connection formed between us stronger than ever before.

Ingrid was right, the runes did improve the flow of our Teyolias. I gained a greater awareness of the life coursing both in her veins. I sensed twin fires swirling in the oven of her belly, growing brighter with each passing instant.

“You are pregnant,” I muttered in between thrust and whispers. “With twins.”

“Yes,” she replied softly. “I was never supposed to. The plan was for Mother to bear your heir and secure her place, while I remained…” Ingrid struggled to find a term in between two gasps. “Appealing.”

“Your mother didn’t know me well enough.” I caressed her belly with my hand, a shiver of pleasure and pride coursing through me. “I’ve never found you more arousing.”

My words seemed to trigger something in Ingrid. Her womanhood tightened around my manhood with immense pressure while her arms and legs closed around my back in an unbreakable grip. Her blissful moans following each of my thrusts only heightened my own arousal.

Memories and strength flooded into me. The meaning of Sapa words I didn’t understand before became clear to me, and the otherworldly chill encroaching on my soul receded. Ingrid gave me life and knowledge, and I gave her pleasure.

And then she grew colder than ice.

The shift was so brutal and sudden it immediately jolted me out of the throes of my rising orgasm. My manhood felt as if it had been dipped in cold water. The nails sinking into my chest sharpened into claws, and the legs coiling around my ass became a prison. A potent stench of blood and rot filled my nostrils instead of sweet perfume.

I blinked to find the room around me changed from comfortable bedchambers to a stone-cold crypt underground, and then looked down to find a face other than Ingrid’s staring at me. My entire body shuddered with revulsion at the sight of black hair, pallid skin paler than milk, and golden eyes glittering with shades of red.

“What’s wrong, songbird?” Iztacoatl asked me with a mocking grin. “You don’t like my new look?”

The White Snake had caught me in a trap. I was on her, in her, facing a smile that inspired only disgust.

I instinctively tried to pull back, to recoil away, to pull out, but she only tightened her grip on me with inhuman strength. She pressed my body against her own, and her lips against mine.

I immediately struggled against the urge to vomit. Eztli always took care of feeding on blood before our lovemaking back when she suffered from the vampire’s curse so that she would at least feel tepid to my touch. Either Iztacoatl didn’t bother to do the same, or no amount of blood could warm up a Nightlord’s skin. Her lips were frostier than ice, and her skin drained the very warmth from my body. I felt like I was making love to a corpse.

And worst of all, I could still finish.

My own body betrayed me at this moment, my vision going white from the orgasm. Iztacoatl freed her lips from mine and moaned in pleasure as my seed entered her. Steam rose from her tightening womanhood, but whatever pain my sunlight inflicted on the White Snake paled before the pleasure humiliating me provided her.

I had no idea how long it took until I finally spent myself, but I wished with all my heart I’d finished sooner. My body didn’t relax in the slightest once we were done, and only vivid shame passed over me instead of pleasure. All I could think of was Iztacoatl’s vile smirk of triumph.

This can’t be real, I thought in alarm and disbelief. This felt real—her body was solid to the touch and the room around us was vividly detailed–but I knew deep within my heart that this was an illusion. This is all in my head. She must be using Ingrid’s curse to connect with–

“I must say I am quite disappointed. After all the exercise we gave you, I would have expected your manhood to be longer and thicker.” Iztacoatl glanced at the spot where our bodies were joined with amusement. “Did dipping it in your sister’s flesh shrivel it up?”

The taunt filled me with rage, and my hand gripped her throat. This only caused Iztacoalt’s smirk to widen further.

I immediately realized my mistake. If this was an illusion, a mental projection, then I might have been strangling Ingrid right now.

“Did you really think you could escape us?” Iztacoatl taunted me in between fits of laughter. “That any of you could escape us?”

I couldn’t harm her. Not with violence, not when Ingrid might be at risk.

So I instead leaned closer and whispered in her ear.

“Your sister died screaming,” I said, very calmly. “She still is where I sent her.”

Iztacoatl’s smirk turned into a snarl of hatred. “Don’t you dare–”

“I killed Sugey at her best, so what makes you think a coward like you stands a chance, Iztacoatl?” Uttering her name sounded like a death curse in my mouth. “Even now, you only dare to show yourself in my presence through another. I am not escaping you, quite the opposite.”

I activated the Gaze so she could see the sunlight she so feared shining in my eyes. I sensed her fear as she tried to pull back from the connection she had established, dreading the fire of my soul.

“Your death will be a tragedy.” I gripped her essence, delighting in her dread. “And I will be setting the stage.”

I saw a flash, and then felt the warmth of Ingrid’s skin against mine.

My reality shifted back to my bedroom, to the sight of Ingrid’s beautiful face staring back at me with an empty look in her eyes, to the sensation of her soft breath pushing on my lips. I immediately used the Gaze to confirm this was no last minute illusion and that I had indeed returned to reality.

“Ingrid…” I whispered upon cancelling my spells. She had no mark around her neck, so I didn’t think I had strangled her or that she experienced the same thing I did… but from the look on her face, she had experienced a mental violation too.

Ingrid gulped and hugged me, her head burying itself in my shoulder. I squeezed back with all of my strength and affect, gently caressing her under the bed sheet. It helped her calm down, but not enough.

“I felt her,” Ingrid whispered against my shoulder. “I felt her in my soul, reaching out to you.”

My jaw clenched in frustration. I knew Iztacoatl’s game. This mental attack had been a reminder that she still owned us; that she could deny us intimacy at any point, that she could soil the most sacred of acts into a vile violation. I would fear returning to that cold crypt every time I took Ingrid to bed.

I wouldn’t be able to practice Seidr with Ingrid while Iztacoatl lived either. If she could infiltrate the mental connection we formed during our embrace, then she risked uncovering information best kept to ourselves.

“I have a plan,” I said with all the strength of my hatred, “To cut off the snake’s head.”

Ingrid tensed as she let go of me, her eyes locking with mine. “My lord?”

“There is something you must know about your family. About your brother, Fjor.” I gathered my breath as I broke the news. “He is… he is one of them.”

Ingrid held my gaze without a word, her lips twisting into a scowl.

“You are not surprised,” I said.

“I’ve suspected it for some time,” Ingrid admitted, her voice brimming with sorrow. “My mother always knew things she shouldn’t, and I often sensed my brother’s presence around me at night. Considering that all Nightkin are male and that princes were all taken once they reached a certain age… the truth wasn’t difficult to grasp.”

It said something about all the horrors Ingrid had encountered that the knowledge her brother had become an abomination barely fazed her anymore. Nonetheless, I did detect a spark of hope in her gaze.

“Is there any hope for him?” she asked me. “If Eztli could be cured–”

“What happened to her was a special case.” As much as it cost me, I couldn’t give her false hope. The soul transfer could only unfold thanks to multiple unique factors like the Nightlords’ ritual and a Skinwalker’s contribution; none of which we could replicate with Ingrid’s sibling. “I am not certain we could save Fjor the same way, at least not yet. Perhaps the First Emperor’s codices will provide an alternative.”

Ingrid’s jaw clenched in disappointment. “But I should not expect a miracle.”

I shook my head. “I am sorry.”

“My lord has nothing to apologize for. I have considered my brother dead for many years.” Ingrid studied my expression. “How would he factor in my lord’s plan to kill the White Snake?”

“Your brother has unknowingly consumed a piece of me, which created a bond between us.” Even now I could feel the connection with my Legion spell in the back of my mind. “It was Iztacoatl who first turned him into a vampire, and we’ve seen with Sugey that a Nightlord’s connection to her brood is so strong that they can drain their blood at will.”

“My lord intends to use this connection to harm the White Snake.” Ingrid blinked in understanding. “And since Astrid and I share a bloodline, you believe we can help you strengthen it.”

“Yes, that is why I didn’t want to breach the subject while Astrid remained out of our reach.” I gathered my breath. I’d dreaded this discussion for a very long time. “I understand you might have misgivings about this plan, so I wanted to discuss it with you first.”

I knew this would be a difficult proposal for Ingrid. Not only did it risk putting her siblings in danger, but success all but guaranteed her brother’s demise since a Nightkin couldn’t outlive their creator.

Ingrid pondered my words for a moment before asking me a question. “My brother… Did he participate?” Her expression darkened. “In the hunt?”

“Yes,” I confirmed. The mere memory of that awful hunt where we had to protect Astrid from rape and murder still haunted me. “He tried to keep your sister away from Iztacoatl. She punished him harshly for it.”

“So he risked his unlife to protect Astrid in spite of the risks.” Ingrid nodded to herself, her scowl lessening. “We always put family above everything else.” She pondered my plan for a while, before fishing for more details. “Would this ritual of yours kill Iztacoatl?”

“I’m not sure.” Sugey had shown enough resilience to survive under sunlight for an extended period of time, so I suspected her sisters could endure much punishment. “It should at least weaken her.”

“In which case, we’ll need to lure her into a vulnerable position.” Ingrid squinted at me. “I assume that Zyanya will play a role in this?”

“Yes. Iztacoatl sent her to spy on me, but I’ve subverted her allegiance.” Although I wasn’t as confident in Lady Zyanya’s loyalty as I was in Ingrid’s, I trusted her ambition. I had more to give as well. “We could use her to feed the snake false information and lure her into a trap.”

After what happened tonight, I suspected Iztacoatl would only grow more obsessed with killing me herself. I had killed two of her sisters, made a fool of her, and threatened her with death. She would not rest until she had crushed me to soothe her ego, and this would prove her downfall.

Ingrid nodded and thought over my proposal for a moment. Part of me expected her to refuse risking her siblings’ lives, but Ingrid was nothing if not pragmatic. I hoped she would understand that while I wouldn’t proceed without her say, our options were limited and our time running short.

“The White Snake will try to use my brother against us,” Ingrid warned me. “He didn’t deserve this, Iztac.”

“Few do.” The memory of that revenant haunting me in the Underworld flashed into my mind. I dared not tell Ingrid that the Nightlords had murdered another sibling of hers.

“I am with you, my lord.” My consort’s hands tightened into fists, her expression contorted with a fury that echoed my own. “I want Iztacoatl dead. I want her dead for murdering my mother, corrupting my brother, and what she put my sister through.”

“Are you certain?” There could be no wavering should we proceed with this ritual.

“I want to save my brother, if possible.” Ingrid took a deep breath to calm herself down. “However… If not, then I know he would tell us to go through with it. He would rather protect our family, and neither Astrid nor I will find peace so long as the White Snake survives.”

And neither would the world.