Page 9 of The Syphon King

“I...don’t know how to thank you,” she sputtered. “For everything.”

He watched her lashes glisten with tears before they fell over her cheeks, and she quickly wiped them. “By allowing me to protect you and ensure you live a long, happy life.”

More tears fell as she nodded and wiped those too. “Thank you Zodak,” she whispered, a sob escaping her, then another. Soon, she covered her face with both hands.

“Jinxxy. Idha-ee-layuh,” he ordered, watching his pup race over and administer her wet whimpering condolences.

Zen dropped to her knees, a little laugh mixing with her sadness. The sight and sound again filled him with senseless, volatile urges. He focused this new power on killing the evil responsible for hurting her rather than killing his canine in a jealous rage for licking what was solely his.

He'd call Seer again and insist on another purge.

IT WAS WHILE PACINGin the living room that Zodak realized he needed a way to ensure he not only had the ability to always protect Zenith in all things, but also had therightto. He’d called Trixie and instructed her to tend to all of Zenith’s needs while he spoke to Nidev and as expected, the King had the precise solution he sought. But it required her consent.

Zodak arrived back at his apartment, not finding Zenith anywhere. He pulled his phone out and dialed Trixie.

“She’s in the Voltorium, I left you a message on the phone,andtexted had you picked it up to see.”

He hung up and left out, wondering why she’d go there. He should have asked. Zodak slowed through the trees and froze at seeing her in one of the long black dresses. Her inky hair matched the material and flowed in waves down her back.

He made his way slowly toward her and removed his gates, watching her with all the lucidity he possessed as she stared up at the wall of repentance, stroking her tiny hands over the chains.

She suddenly spun and he stopped at the bottom of the steps, her brilliant blue gaze locked on his like a prophetic vision. She was exactly as he’d imagined in the dress. Profoundly and poetically beautiful.

She quickly looked down. “Zodak,” she said, turning his name into a breath of silk.

“Miss Zenith.” He lowered his voice, attempting to remove some of the rough edge. She was created for everything opposite of what he was. “I need to speak to you about an important matter.”

She hurried forward then stopped abruptly and took several steps back. “Where would you like to talk? I was going to wait for you to eat breakfast but thought itwas better to have it done at the proper time. For health reasons. And...there is always lunch and dinner to share with you. Not that sharing meals means anything...”

“Would you like to walk in the forest?” he asked, ending the word torture she always assailed him with.

Her entire face lit up like she’d never been outside in her life. “I wouldlovethat,” she cried, the power of her direct gaze making him want to remove his lenses and see her with his naked eyes. He remembered they frightened most people. As did his sharpened teeth.

“Come,” he said, turning. Five steps later he found her twice that many steps behind him. “Walk with me,” he clarified.

He waited as she caught up to him before continuing. He adjusted his steps to her tiny ones as he led the way to the back entrance. “What are we talking about?” she asked.

He glanced down, encountering the delicate lace covering her chest. “About your future.”

“Oh,” she said, seeming surprised to have one of those. “Okay. Why did you save me?” The force of the words implied she’d wondered many times but feared asking.

“Because we were told to.”

She glanced up at him. “By who?” she wondered curious.

He clasped his hands behind his back as they strolled toward the exit. “Seer’s God.”

She suddenly stopped in her tracks. “What...god is this?”

He glanced and found terror on her face. “A very good God,” he assured.

She studied the air before her, and he held out his hand for her to come. She regarded the invitation and Zodak quickly withdrew it when she reached out, thinking he meant her to take it.

She snapped worried eyes up at him. “I’m sorry, I don’t...always know what things mean.”

She held her hand at her chest as if he’d crushed it. The idea was a torment while he strived so hard to do the opposite. “My gifts don’t allow me to touch humans.” He resumed walking toward the wooden bridge spanning several swamp miles. “Ask your questions,” he encouraged, ready to get to what he needed to talk to her about.

She made her way alongside him again. “Why can’t you?”

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