FROM THE PARCHMENT OF ASIA RALAIA SCHIEGOH:

FROM THE PARCHMENT OF ASIA RALAIA SCHIEGOH:

Kinda funny how summer's all great and everything while you're in school, and yet, the moment you're out and realize you've got nothing hot goin' for ya except your mother's condescending talk and a load of chores cuz she won't let you go any place or write anything, it's suddenly... oppressive. Or at least dull :).

At least I can hope you guys'll enjoy the 28th Chapter!

LAST TIME IN MOTH:

A sharp vibration from his coat pocket stirred him, Alexios blinking from thought to retrieve the mobile phone. The dozen and a half Rebels reclining glanced his way in evident apprehension.

"Make it good, Vox."

"She's here!", came his overt voice, the thrumming bass of progressive thrusting through the speakers to echo in the night air. "Ripley Hartworth finally brought her."

A grin crept to his previously frozen lips. "How many follow at his heels?"

There was a slight pause, silence from the other end. "About eleven, I'd say. He's got the Princess in cuffs behind her back, made it more oblivious to the crowd. It's wild down here." Vox's chuckle was nearly contagious.

"Excellent. Send him up here so we can make this transaction quick." Within his hand the vial rolled apprehensively. "I need her blood spilled tonight, the moment she arrives up here. We seize the opportunity without hesitation, and she will be merely a memory before long. Only this time, my dear old friend," Alexios hung up, grinning still as he spoke to the elusive Constantine. It was quite a struggle to keep from laughing at the emperor’s helplessness, the forthcoming prospect nearly too much to bear for a night’s exhilaration. “There won’t be any bringing her back.”

CHAPTER XXVIII: THE PARADOX

Hands bound, sick in the stomach, I kicked and screamed. It was only a few minutes ago I returned to full consciousness, one of the no-name dark hunters had dragged my out of the back seat of the Mini, splashing me a few times with water from an Ethos bottle. I'd woken up under the skyscraper sky, every electric light above my human view in sight. After several dozen conscious blinks the nearly-dozen crowd of us were already in the back way of the club: the Paradox.

If the bright lights of the surrounding commercial buildings hadn't awaken me completely, stepping inside finished the job. A thrumming from the hidden speakers expelled the electric rhythm of the trance and progressive. The throng was drawn to the center of the blinking dance floor, their bodies thrumming in tune with the DJ's beats. Through my own core the rhythm pulsed, though I wasn't remotely in the mood to groove. If anything, I was in the mood to bolt.

That's when the kicking and screaming started up.

There wasn't as much attention drawn, if any,; we were already approaching the stairway exit, the door held open by a lanky guy with a cell in hand. At first a spark of hope fluttered within me; his fangs I could see as he exclaimed into the receiver. Maybe, just maybe he was what I'd hoped.

But vampires hated dark hunters, and vice versa. If anything, this guy had to be…

A rebel!

So we were already in the stairwell, door since shut when my screams were heard clearly. From the loosened grip of the no-name dark hunter I tried running, only to end up in Whitley's readied grasp. It stung when his hands took firm hold of my arms, not even bothering to do more than continue ahead.

"Lemme go!", I cried, legs flailing with no regard as to who was in my way. "Dammit, I'm serious! Lemme go--!"

Whitley's palm clamped over my mouth, the echo of my muffled threats bouncing from the gray walls of the stairwell. Forcing me forward with a silent shake, we eventually came to the ROOF DOOR sign. It wasn't until several feet at the top, the chilly night air taking hold of my bare arms, that he released me. By then, with the lot of nearly a dozen pairs of iridescent irises greeting me from several yards away, it was already too late.

The speedy tempo of my own blood pulsed aloud in my ears: funny how I could hear it so often, seeing that I'd been finding myself in a helluva lot of potholes. Optimistic as I feigned to be, it seemed pretty obvious there was no escape from the get-go. Pieces of the puzzle were finally starting to fit together, if only completing so much as a corner out of the whole. Rebel Tsukikos and Dark Hunters were collaborating against a common enemy:

Constantine.

But why? Money? Power struggle? A hatred for me…?

"Yeh've got everything set up proper?" Ripley snatched at my elbow mid-sentence, dragging my refuting self several feet forward. At my difficulty he raised his arm, that same irate scowl shorn across his face. I winced in preparation, wrenching from his grip.



The Rebel found himself entirely bemused by this wench. She had thinned out somewhat since he had last seen her at the beginning of this daunting November, though not entirely for the worst. There was no doubt in Alexios' mind that Constantine had once taken every opportunity to feed her, as he knew his old friend had enjoyed doing. The true Prince of Darkness had always boasted of her voluptuous figure, a curved frame of small stature exotic enough to be compared to a pagan goddess. Truth be told, she was prettier all those weeks ago on the roof of her house. It was apparent Hartworth and his accompanying dark hunters were not treating her appetite quite so kindly.

Nor, in fact, were they treating her susceptible mortal flesh quite so kindly.

"Let your hand from her body, Hartworth." Alexios stepped forward with slowness, though he was not at all feeling much at ease. He could not even dream of being so until the dual-pronged blades pierced the proper "seats of life". "Your duty was to keep her protected from Tsukiko sights, not bruise her tender flesh. You mortals unquestionably know how to disregard directions."

He himself waved his hand away, willing the dark hunter leader's aggression to desist. But he was not paying too much attention to the slayer now. The girl… well, certainly more of a young woman with the ample curves on her short frame… had taken her chance to exact futile revenge, a sniveling shot of spit flying towards Hartworth's boots. Alexios glared the slayer down before he could think to unleash his short leash of a temper.

"I take it you don't know so much about the history between you and I", he questioned briefly, regarding the youth. Irune had flickered her dark eyes up to him, a glower evident. It had been a good while since a woman had openly expressed anger towards him. "I know enough", she spat, voice of profound femininity shining through the façade of her hefty, saggy jeans. "You're leading some kinda rebellion or whatever, right? Tryna steal away the Royal Family's support. Yeah, I heard about you, traitor."

His chuckle was effortless, genuine. Perhaps it was now easy to see why his Constantine was always so amused with her. "Traitor, am I! Aye, maybe you do know a thing or two about me, child of Cleopatra. It was smart of Constantine to let your little heart know the peril that associates us." He clapped her wrists with the iron cuffs quicker than she could blink. With a silent shake of the head he willed her not to resist him physically, as was a part of his Dark Gift. Though her body obeyed without difficulty those fiery sepia eyes continued to simmer with hatred. Alexios allowed it as he lead her by the elbow with firm gentleness towards the grimy, wooden dais several feet away. "It were rather unintelligent of him, however, not to share the full story. Which is a liberty I'll willingly grant you before I", his hand guided her to the dais, where she sat, eyes not leaving his, "Send your inimitable soul back to Hell, where it belongs."

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"She is the Mother, my son."

"Impossible." Constantine grunted, squeezing the pressure at his temples with his thumb and forefinger. No doubt it was in the midst of a rather important proposition that his mother sought the need to interrupt, her intentions as clear as they were disheartening. It was evident what the Regent Empress wanted to discuss.

He made it quite clear he was not in the mood for such.

Tracie had clicked off of the phone only moments before when Constantine turned from the desk strewn with musty documents. Hands clenched the backing of his cushioned executive chair, a slightly relieved sigh escaping his lifeless body. Irune had been found at last!: and exactly where he had received her to be. Their connection had been muffled the first time, so much so he hardly believed he had heard her. But the second and last time she called his name. Sweetly, aye, but so desperately. The beguiled call had roused him from a sleepless stupor, his first weary thought to send a troupe of Tsukikos to her location. It was not until an hour or so later, after he had regained full mental stability, did he send the second and more prevailing troupe, led by none other than his action-seeking cousins. Constantine himself intended to join them, his black leather and weapons belt in full arrangement. He had even taken the time to tie his now unruly mane in a ponytail, the curls nearly lost of their sheen. There had been little of him to care for since her draining absence.

He then turned from the chair. An anxious hand found the chain about his own fine neck, his strengthened fingers running along the silver circular hooks. Somewhat aimlessly he muttered, "No hair of bloodfire, no violet eyes. No, Ma, she is anything but."

The Persian regent stood from the lounge couch hidden amongst the shadows, face cast in stone. He recognized that expression from as early on as the first-- and last-- time he came back to Athens, his pregnant mate still in Alexandria. Or so he had once thought.

"Denial has claimed you," Rhena admonished a bitter tang of anger slanting her tongue. "Much as you reject the prophecies you ought to know better than any how deathly accurate they have become of late. You ought to respect their credibility."

"The Book of Abunai reads false doctrine when it comes to its apocalyptic prophecies," her son rejected. "You see how much good that did Emelyn Story, the way they harkened her supposed importance. Brogan gave her the Kiss and watched as her madness dropped her into a grave." Constantine threaded antsy fingers over his tamed hair, gaze disrupted by his words. "I cannot see Irune die a second time."

Rhena approached the great desk, one arm crossedso as to lift the other upon its elbow. The free hand she let splay upon her faintly visible chest. Constantine knew his mother was distressed, though from his lack of faith in ancient doctrine or adoration for a mortal he did not know. With her reproachful glance he wondered if it were to be both.

She sighed uselessly, turning her gaze to the great windows behind. The night sky was affluent, holding every last star in the cosmos as a waning moon spilled its celestial light. He remembered how starry nights weakened her solidity. Rather quietly he heard her say, "My only wish back then was that you had never met her."

The confession had a rough bite despite its nearly silent opening. Constantine nodded slowly, leaning against the back of the executive chair. "I know, Ma. I know you and Father took little liking to the prospect of her."

But she shook her elegant head of glistening jewels, not a dark hair falling out of place. Those green eyes did not falter from the still scene outside the window. "No, my dear son. Your father was the one who proved he could take a little bit of a liking to her. He eventually did just that, did he not? In order to let you revive her soul? Handing out favors to a child he never met." The Regent Empress added slowly, "But it made my Constantine so happy, if only for a while."

Constantine closed his eyes, a small smile peaking his bow lips. Was it odd that his mouth ached suddenly from the movement? It was rather strange to hear his name and that jovial word associated with one another. So very peculiar. With tender acknowledgement he said, "She… brings me great joy. A strong kind, one that takes and keeps the best of me. I have never…" He paused, shaking his head. "It pained you to see me with her at the Awakening banquet, Ma. The woman who belongs to me, whom I belong to--"

"Is but a child. A mortal child who had the unprecedented power to change your very person! You were never again the same after you returned from Rome with her infant in your arms."

"Cassandra was our babe, Ma."

"Yes, and a faction of her body that served to pull you into a deeper stupor," she bit back. "And never did you leave her side, that babe. She went with you everywhere; saw everything through the cradling of your arms. You wanted so terribly to find the heart of that mortal child in your babe. So very terribly wanted to."

He opened his eyes to meet hers, his mother already standing before him with her arms opened just wide enough for his body to fit. Before he could think to embrace her she set the strong yet fine hands upon his broad shoulders, the onyx print of henna upon her lightly bronzed skin seeming to twine with that of his trench coat. The emerald of her gaze fixed him as it always would, far to the past at when he was merely a boy. One could never tell how such eyes could betray so little emotion: it was not until she spoke that her intentions were evident. He used to make sport of guessing as a boy, never knowing if she wanted to scold him for his Tom-foolery or kiss his cheek in simple reminder of her love for him.

"My son. My beautiful Constantine."

His mother set a light peck upon the tip of his slender nose, lingering for a moment. "All I want of you is to be happy as you once were, before you met Cleopatra's lovechild. Can you not be my beautiful boy without her to drive your every emotion? Can you?"

He knew what she wanted him to say. And he knew he could just as easily acquiesce.

Steady arms held his mother to him, Constantine feeling slightly more at ease as she did much the same. "I never did remember being so alive before knowing her. And yet," he pulled away, leaving a brief kiss on Rhena's cheek. Her virulent green eyes betrayed her tranquil pose. Constantine did not expect anything less. "I did not even know I had died until she returned to me."

END CHAPTER XXVIII