Reckless

Chapter 7 Part 3

MATURE CONTENT IN THIS CHAPTER

April 1692 NEW WORLD

Character POV: Roxanne

Ariadne turns away from me to stoop down to help a woman out of the lake, her sodden skirts dragging her down. She grasps onto Ariadne and wheezes, "What are you?" The woman is pale as can be, her skin drained of all color. I catch the slight tremor to her shaking hand as she grabs ahold of Ariadne.

My vampire friend stills, blinking a bit in surprise. Still holding onto the clearly human woman clutching her arm, she asks as she looks around, "By show of hands, how many of you are witches, mermaid siren bitches, or vampires?" All of the hands shoot up around her except for the one woman holding onto Ariadne. A slight bark of laughter before Ariadne clucks, "Oh, honey, I am so sorry. Tonight just was not your night." In a flash, she reaches out and she snaps the neck of the human woman, a quick death with no fear because she did not see it coming. The sight of the seemingly heartless and unnecessary death snaps me back into myself just a little bit more, pushing the rush of adrenaline back into the managable and not manic level. Ariadne shoves the body off into the water to where the other woman is floating, as much of a burial as she is willing to give to a human. She dusts her hands off before she turns back to me.

My face must have been saying something that I was not vocalizing because she demands, "What?" When I just nod my head in the direction of the woman's body floating off with the current, she rolls her eyes and groans. "She was a human. How long do you think she would be able to keep our existence to herself? How long before she would bring more witch hunters to our door, or how long before she brought this little alliance to the attention of people it's best don't know about it?" Her eyes begin to gradually shift from the red of bloodlust back to the violet of her natural state as her gaze bores into me. "You cannot live this life without making some tough choices. And no matter what you do, what your intentions are, you can never be a hero to everyone. Witches and vampires-- our fates are the same. We're always going to be the villain at some point. And if you want to stay this side of the bottle, you need to come to terms with that fact, and fast. The goal isn't overarching morality, it's just finding a code that makes it easier to live with yourself for eternity, Aoibhe."

She's right. Strict morality with strict rights and wrongs only work for people with a mortal lifespan. The world changes too much throughout eternity for that to work for an immortal being. I've seen science and math be demonized, and then I've seen them make a Renaissance. I've seen women be in power, and I've seen men brutally reject that idea. I've seen one religion with many gods be replaced by one with only a single deity, goddesses replaced with male gods. I've seen magic be worshipped to people being burned alive for even the mere accusation that they possess it. What is morality in the face of all of that?

Why would I allow the laws of mortals to shape my existence for long after they're gone? When my very existence disproves some of their religions tennents? Looking at Ariadne, I allow myself to think about what would make it easier for me to live with myself for all time. I allow all of those thoughts that I have been pushing aside to come to my mind, for me to feel things as I actually feel them instead of as would be convenient for everyone involved. I look at Ariadne and see all of the things I have been trying to desperately not to see for years. I see the way her eyes light with that coy flash, the redness of her mouth, my favorite color there on perfect display, way that her lips arch and I could easily draw a heart from the top of her lips to her bottom lip. I notice the plunging neckline of her dress, the gentle rise and slope of her, and all of the thoughts that I have been so desperately trying to send skittering away with booze and laudanum just fade away as a new focus takes shape in me.

I march towards her, not caring that there are a bunch of other women around us, some of whom are sure to report what happens next to Analize. I don't care if this gets me in trouble. I have been living my life for Analize for centuries, sacrificing everything important to me. And where the hell was she when I was about to be burned to a cinder? Nowhere to be found. I know as leader of the witches that she has a lot of duties and a lot of things to attend to, but I am not going to deny myself this simple pleasure and have more regrets when life has shown me even the immortals have limits.

Ariadne's gaze snaps to me as, for the first time, confusion clouds her gaze. "What are you. . .?" she starts, but then when I have my hands on either side of her face, understanding dawns on her, and she leans in as I lean in, pressing our lips to each other, parting ever so slightly and searching the other with actions in ways that words would have fallen short.

We part from each other, breathless. Her eyes are bright like mine are, and her smile deepens as she winks, "Not bad, Elizabeth." She winks at me as she whispers in my ear, "See, if I would have let that human woman stick around, that might just have killed her." I snort despite myself, feeling like a horrible person for finding humor in the death of someone. Ariadne releases me, but she grasps ahold of my hand as if she's afraid I'll drift back into my closeted self and away from her. She turns towards the witches helping the mermaids off of the pyres, one vampire feeding on the dead bodies left behind from our rescue attempt. "You're all free to find your own ways to safety. If any of you want to make problems about this," she adds, gesturing between the two of us before her eyes shift red and her voice goes feral as she gives a rough laugh. Then, "I'll make you wish that these men finished what they started with you all when I'm done with you."

I've never seen a group of women run so fast in my life. The mermaids race to the lake, plunging into the depths and disappearing. The vampire shifts into a bat and flies away while the witches use their magic to create portals and step away from this place of horror. The silence left behind is almost encapsulating. All that I can hear is the gentle lap of the waters of the lake on the pebble shore and the crackle of the last few lit torches before they completely go out against the damp ground. That's all I can hear about the thundering of my own heart in my chest.

The next few moments happen in a blur. Clothes are shed, I can feel the round pebbles of the shore mixed with the sand as they push into my skin, but that little edge of pain only heightens the experience instead of detracting from it. She goes for the dark core of me, and blinds me from the present with the strokes of her tongue. The noises that come out of me are not human, and I can pretty much guarantee that no man has ever heard them. None of them exactly knew where to hit to elicit this response, and they were never the ones on their knees. It would have hurt their masculine pride.

When she's finished, I have clumps of sand and rocks in my hands, my breathing is rapid and Ariadne is next to me, a smirk on her face. "What? They didn't teach you that in witch school?" she jokes, winking at me, but I see something in her gaze that I have never seen before. There's a soft vulnerability to her gaze, a quiet joy. It's so different from every Ariadne that I have seen before that I just whisper breathlessly, "Show me what to do." Her answering grin is enough to shatter stars.