Page 46 of Across the Sapphire Sea
“Of that, I’m well aware,” said Elias, his voice flat.
His lover had been awake only minutes, and already Valeri had made him sad. With a sigh of regret, he bid the earth to release them, and they rose together above the ground.
Mahu, 1432 Common Era, Bran Vigny
Tossing and turning in fevered sleep, Mahu dreamed of his lost love. His devil-halfling with eyes like the starry dusk sky. His best and worst kept secret. His biggest regret.
Dakarai answered Mahu’s call, appearing from the ether, his tail wrapped around his torso as if he needed the comfort of an embrace, even if it was his own.
Relief expanded Mahu’s chest at the sight of his lover, hale and hearty after all these years—after centuries. Though Daka looked out of place at Bran Vigny. When Mahu closed his eyes and dreamed of the incubus, he was radiant in the sunshine, out and about in the ancient lands of Kemet, laughter in his eyes. Golden. But here it was dark, and Daka’s melancholy expression turned his face into a stranger’s.
Confusion tangled Mahu’s thoughts. “Are you really here?”
“I am and I’m not.” Daka’s voice, a gentle tenor, sounded the same as it always had. A balm to Mahu’s soul.
Mahu released a shuddering breath. “I’ve missed you.”
“And I, you.”
“Am I dying?”
The image of Daka wavered, flickering away, then back again, closer, right next to his bed. He frowned. “You are.”
Mahu’s heart sank. “I’m sorry.”
Daka reached for his hand. “So am I.”
12
Elias, Three Years Ago
“Why can’t she play?” Elias asked the group of men at Rovaniemi’s local tavern. “Are you afraid she’ll beat you?”
His jeer worked perfectly. The men laughed at the idea, and the ringleader responded by raising his mug. “Aye, you can let her try. Just see she don’t loose the arrow at one of us!”
Elias rolled his eyes and turned back to the serving lass. Valeri was upstairs meeting with another vampire, Lajos, about the whispered rumors of a court of ancient beings near the city. Valeri was obsessed with the possibility and never let Elias tag along on these rendezvous. So Elias was left to his own devices in the tavern below.
A game of targeting skill had sprung up among the men, and they’d invited him to join. An empty wine barrel had been overturned, hauled onto a table, and the bottom used as the target. The little arrows were shortened and weighted, with feathers at the end, and the objective was to throw them so they stuck closest to the center of the barrel.
Already Elias had learned he was not very good at the game, sending arrows both to the floor and the wall. But with some practice, he managed to hit the target, though never very close to the center.
The woman serving their drinks had cheered them on, then asked to try herself. After the men had a good laugh, Elias collected the arrows and set about showing her how, but the group put a prompt stop to it.
“Women don’t play arrows,” said a man who stank of ale and hadn’t hit the target all night.
“What’s your name?” asked Elias, ignoring the men.
The pretty blonde gave a smiling nod. “Jemma, and you? I’ve seen you here before.”
“Elias.” He handed her an arrow. “And don’t listen to them. It’s not that hard.”
“Speak for yourself,” a rowdy drunk quipped from the side. Elias glanced in time to see him palm his crotch. “Some of us are plenty hard.”
“Go stick it in the snow then, Ralphie,” cried Jemma. “Ain’t no one here interested in your prick.”
Rousing laughter sounded from the other men. Elias thought Jemma a spitfire and wouldn’t want to get on her bad side. He’d seen her escort more than one man too deep in his cups out of this tavern by the ear.
“Come stand here,” said Elias.
