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Humans had come a long way since then. Well, most of them. A worrying number were still stuck in the dark ages. “You fought,” Saint said, further impressed by the young mortal man Octavius had been.
“I did. But it overpowered me, obviously, and for whatever reason, it decided to turn me. Perhaps it was tired of being alone. The process is a blur, but I know that whenever it drank from me, I touched death, but I was pulled back again with the taste of blood on my lips.”
This probably wasn’t the time to admit Saint’s turning had been more of an erotic ritual than torture.
“During one of those near-death moments,” Octavius went on, “I heard a woman’s voice. She told me to fight. And if I did, she’d reward me with a gift.”
Ah, that was where his brilliant mind trick came from. “The persuasion?” It took a lot for Saint to be surprised. But every day he spent with Octavius brought new surprises.
“I don’t remember much,” Octavius went on, while guiding the chopper through the sky. “Only that I used the gift to kill the nyk. The next time the villagers opened the temple to deliver their sacrifice, I killed them all. That village and my people were wiped from the land, after that. And the gift has forever stayed with me.”
As a newly turned, unnurtured nyktelios, he’d killed the villagers. Saint couldn’t blame him for that. He’d have done the same, even if he’d had control. Sacrificing people to a rabid nyktelios was monstrous to the humansandthe nyktelios.
“So I don’t know much about having a sire,” Octavius admitted. “But what I do know is the others don’t talk about their sires, or how they were turned, either.”
Everything had gotten so warped and twisted since the creation of the nyktelios. “In Mikalis’s era, sires were worshipped, beginning of course with Mikalis. His acolytes prayed they’d have his gifts bestowed upon them.”
“Theyprayedto be turned into nyktelios?” Octavius asked incredulously.
“It was a different time.” Saint chuckled. “Those who were chosen, as I was, became even more faithful to Mikalis. We would indulge in carnal gatherings together to strengthen our bond, sometimes a dozen of us at a time, sometimes more.”
“I’m not sure I want to know,” he muttered.
He’d love to see Octavius squirm in his seat as he described the days and nights he’d spent tangled in many limbs, high on sexual pleasure and free-flowing blood. “The more time spent with your sire, and the more you exchange blood, the more powerful you become. A turning is just the beginning. Most nyks separate from their sire because the old ways have been forgotten, but a nyk nurtured over time by its sire quickly gains control, unlike the rabid bloodhungry nyks the Brotherhood hunt today.”
“Mikalisnurturedyou?” He pulled a disgusted face, glancing side-on.
“Like I said, different times.” Those nights had been like drug-induced dreams. No thought, just physical needs sated by an endless stream of pleasure. To be turned by Mikalis was a journey of devotion that grew into love. “I wanted to be with him, mind, body, soul.”
“Do you still have those… feelings?” Octavius asked.
“I did… I want to,” Saint admitted, surprised the words left his lips. “Time and betrayal ravages the most stalwart of loves.” He was even more surprisedthosewords left his lips, and cleared his throat when Octavius glanced over again. “Our bond is strong. He’ll always be able to find me, and I can sense if he’s close, or in what general direction he’s in. But when I do, he feels it. Hence, when on the run, I try to avoid reaching out to him.”
“Hm, like a communication tower’s ping. You reach out to him and he pings back to you. I get it. Can you tell me if we get close? When we land, I want to know exactly where he is.”
“Now?”
“He already knows we’re coming, so whenever you’re ready.”
Saint closed his eyes and tentatively reached out with his senses, feeling outside the physical realm and into shadow. Mikalis was there, like a black hole, swallowing all light. He pulsed, and Saint snapped open his eyes. “He’s aware we’re coming, all right.”
Octavius nodded. “We’ll be there soon.” He looked over. “I’m not letting him kill you. It’s not right.”
“Trying to stop Mikalis is like trying to hold back an ocean.”
“He is reasonable, I know it. Lately, he’s been more… forgiving.”
It was admirable, but there was fighting nyks, and fighting a god. Only another god could stop a god. And none of the Brotherhood were godtouched…
Saint glanced askance at Octavius. The temple, the trapped nyk, the voice in Octavius’s head while he was being turned. Those were potent circumstances. “The temple with the trapped nyk,” Saint said. “Who was it dedicated to?”
Octavius took a breath and said, “Goddess of Chaos and Night. Nyx.”
* * *
“Surrendering is not a plan,”Octavius grumbled as they climbed from the chopper to the sound of the engine whirring down.
“It’s the only plan we’ve got.” Jay would die, otherwise.
