“Twenty-five fucking years, Tia? You have got to be kidding me!”
Anya watched from the broken doorway of the orphanage as her two sisters fought back and forth. With Anya’s platinum-blonde hair hanging just shy of her waistline, extremely pale skin, and the fangs she had been born with that never completely retracted, it was no wonder their mother had kept Tialanna and not her. Anya and Tialanna were twins; if it wasn't obvious enough from the description, they were fraternal. Not only did their appearances differ, one with shocking white hair, the other a flaming red, so did their powers.
And just as with their looks, their powers seemed to be mirrored. Both hybrids were born from the discreet union between the original Queen of the Witches and the King of the Vampires. One was raised by the Queen since she could be passed off as no more than a witch, the other by the King due to the undeniable vampire traits she possessed. While Tialanna knew nothing of her twin’s existence until they were both well and fully grown, Anya had known all along. Her psychic powers never allowed for much to be hidden from her.
Along with being able to call on the wind, another of her abilities was a tremendous instinct for when she should and should not act upon what had been shown to her. Knowing always even though she may know the outcome of something to be tragic, sometimes she must step back and let things run their course. Otherwise, the outcome could become catastrophic. Which led to a very lonely life, that was until someone came along who saw her resistance of being close to anyone as a challenge. Kierra stood by Anya’s side throughout every storm life had leashed upon them thus far, and had never once bristled at any of the decisions Anya had been forced to make.
Kierra could be described as a beautiful Amazon warrior; with her sleek muscles that by no means overtook her femininity, long, thick, coarse black hair she kept in cornrows so she could easily pull them back in battle, dark, unmarred olive toned skin and lush deep red lips that begged to be kissed. Her weapon of choice was a battle ax, though no one could figure out where she kept it hidden when wearing her Royal Guard uniform that doesn't leave much to the imagination.
Only her wife, Anya, and Tialanna knew it waited in the ether until she had need for it. A secret they keep from mostly everyone as it would reveal what she truly was. It’s one thing to flash clothes onto your body, something only the witches, and vampires if they are powerful enough, had the power to do, but a weapon forged in the fires of Hel's domain? Not likely.
Hidden among the vampires since birth, Kierra was truly a demon with an angel for a father. It’s no wonder she and Anya were perfectly mated with each other; one with a gift that could possibly make even the kindest of souls hate them, the other with an ability anyone would kill for, able to turn her feelings on and off at will.
So even if Anya was forced to let an apocalypse take place, Kierra could quite naturally sit back with her love in her lap and enjoy the show. There were only two types for whom a demon could not turn off their feelings; their true soul mate and their children. Even with them their feelings could be muted at times.
Anya experienced the twitch that was a sure sign her wife was near and had sex on the brain. A distraction she didn't need right now, even though to say she wanted it would be the Goddess’ honest truth. Not bothering to say a word and paying no heed to the open door, Kierra pulled Anya back tightly against her front, slipping her hands beneath the folds of Anya’s robes knowing she wore nothing underneath. Anya fought desperately to hold in a gasp as Kierra slowly guided one hand to cup her breast while using the other to slip two fingers into her tight, wet folds.
“Hungry,” Kierra rasped in her deep, gravelly voice just as she pierced Anya's neck with her fangs, both upper and lower, and thrust her long, callused fingers ever deeper into Anya’s wet heat.
Knowing on a soul-deep level that her wife became ravenous for both blood and sex in times of stress, two things that helped to shut her feelings off, Anya let Kierra take her fill. Moving her body to the rhythm her wife set, she thrust images into Kierra’s mind of each and every way she planned to devour her once the situation was at least marginally under control. Which left them both on the verge of climax, with a promise of completion later.
Just as Kierra was licking the freshly made wounds closed, Anya had a vision of exactly where her niece was being held captive. And that it was not the time to find her, yet.
Disentangling herself from Kierra and flashing out of her robe and into her own uniform of the Royal Guard, she took in the scene playing outside once again. She watched as her brother, Darvyn, and Tia's mate, Chandler, flashed into existence before turning to her wife. “Let's go.”
Her mental to-do list was growing by the millisecond. Stop her sisters from killing each other, help release the gargoyles from their torment, and keep the fact she knew where Jelissa was being held secret until the time came to help her niece.
Side by side they stepped into what might have been the beginnings of a brand-new war.
