Kelekona Part One

Las Vegas 1998, two weeks on

The air was hard, the pavement unyielding and her feet aching slightly, yet the girl sped up her pace. The footsteps beat in her ears like drums.

Evening was falling, and she had no wish to fall with it..

A quick glance back sent her hair spiralling from the scarf which held it back, flapping around her face and she gathered it back again with shaking hands. She looked a thing of frailty, she knew, all fine lines and small bones and now, she felt every inch of that weakness.

Her name was Meliah Amrit, and she was a member of Circle Daybreak.

She had noticed then scant minutes back, an odd pair of young, startlingly attractive men who seemed to loiter around the streets she moved through. At first, she thought nothing of it. But then...she grew suspicious.

And then she tried to sense them.

They had been like two black holes in her mind, a whirling collection of darkness that chewed up anything nearby, and spat out what was not wanted. The sensation had terrified her.

Calm, she told herself, while part of her mind wanted to scream: how can I be calm? This is my own death following me!

Go back to the bright lights. She should never have left the main streets, but she had been distracted, elated at finding the information about the Wild Power, at being so enticingly close to Daybreak's goal...all that was needed was one call to a human representative in some deadbeat town, and it was sealed.

But now...this.

Lamia though she was, she knew she was no match for two vampires. Especially not the ruthless mercenaries that stalked city streets after nightfall.

Waiting. Watching. For people like her.

Another glance over her shoulder, and this time, she saw them. The harsh gleam of neon light on pale hair, a profile of stark features.

Her fear took over and suddenly, she wasn't thinking clearly at all.

She turned blindly, dodging in and out of tiny streets, her heartbeat quickening with her steps and thinking for an instant, a moment, that they had caught her, but the menacing shadows were passed by to become trash cans.

She turned a corner again...and stopped in horror. She had walked straight into a dead end. A wall soared vertically at the other end of the alley, some six storeys high and the girl was young, without the powers to jump that height. Shut doors surrounded her and she ran forward, tugging at one.

The handle rattled loudly in the stillness, but refused to give.

Closer and closer, like a death knell, she heard the even thumps of footsteps.

She trembled, but gathered herself. She had been told what to do if this situation should happen and she had obeyed, but when running had led to nowhere, all she could do was to fight. To hope.

But abruptly, the sound stopped. Perhaps...she tilted her head on one side to listen to the night and heard no breath, no voices. She heaved a sigh of relief and, shaking with reaction, turned to head back to the familiar territory of the main streets.

She gasped as she saw the two vampires standing in front of her.

They were calm. Professional. One of them even gave her a faint smile, and a nod, as if they were old friends passing on a street. He shouldn't have been a killer, not with the softness of those brown eyes, and the gentle curve of his mouth. Just an ordinary guy.

The stake he produced was anything but commonplace, wickedly sharp and dwarfed by his hands.

"Don't try anything," he warned in a soft voice, the faint smile brightening a little. "It won't hurt much, my sweet, if you just tell us what we want."

He towered above her, easily over six feet. She thought the villains were supposed to be ugly, demonic, cold. Not persuasive, not seductive, not friendly.

His smile was dazzling. "Personally, I'm hoping you do this the hard way." A soft snarl from his lips, and she remembered that beauty was only a mask. "I like it when girls scream."

If she let fear take control, she was good as dead.

The girl began to back up slowly, running all her options through her head. There weren't very many of them.

The other shook out his white-blond hair and looked at her with sharp blue eyes that seemed devoid of emotion, an antique doll's, a predatory look washing across his impossibly perfect features. "All we want to know is where the Wild Power is."

His voice was cool as ice, and cultured but there was a cruel edge beneath it with a knife-blade promise.

The lamia backed away more, shaking her head so violently that her hair came free from its knot and whipped against her face in warm brown coils. She realised her back was against the cold brick wall. She gulped, fear a hard tangle in her stomach, but knew she had to fight.

There was no other way.

~*~

Ryars Valley

"Goddess," the dark-haired girl breathed, her hands seeking out the solid comfort of the boy beside her.

"Don't call to her," the boy said with a soft, dry bitterness. His eyes flashed an eldritch green, like cats' eyes in the night. "She wasn't here for Therill, was she?"

There was a shiny object held in his hand, fist clenched so tightly that from where she stood, it was impossible for the witch to make out. But she knew what it was all the same, because she had torn that watch from the dead boy when he was still living.

She had left the body in his house, knowing they would search there first. She wanted them to know and to fear.

"I can't believe they got to him," the girl said, shivering slightly and leaning into the boy's embrace. "Of all of us...I thought if it was anyone it would be me."

"I didn't think it would be any of us," the boy said.

The girl turned her head to look at him. He was tall, but so was she, and two pairs of green eyes stared at one another. "Always the eternal optimist, Jep," she said sadly.

You'll be with him soon, she promised the pair silently. I don't want information from you...but I need to have fun now and again.

"Bastards," the girl said with sudden viciousness, her plain face made bright with anger. A *Twilight* witch, the watching spellcaster knew, one of those peaceful pathetic creatures that feared to use the deepest and darkest spells. A *pacifist*. "Therill *knew* not to walk alone-"

But he didn't, the watching witch thought smugly. Oh, you're so innocent.

Just like Therill Chusson had been. The shapeshifter had been so *shocked* when they burst into his house, and killed him there and then. Well, almost then. He had been a fitting sacrifice...and oh, he had told them so much.

So now, she knew about the angels.

And she knew that that tall pair, Jepar Jubatus and Chatoya Irkil, shapeshifter and witch, were part of them.

She knew that they were sending some people to try and stop her.

She knew they would fail.

~*~

Las Vegas:

"I like it when girls scream?" a voice said in disgust. "My god, who writes his dialogue? Did he eat a brain tumour for breakfast? "

From their view, the watchers could see the young vampire was terrified.

"I'll make him eat worse than that in a minute," another voice answered.

The first, a typically handsome vampire boy, murmured, "She's pretty, that one." He felt for her, remembering when he had been in that same situation. How long was it now? He frowned and worked it out silently. A little over a year. You lost time in this job, always moving across time zones.

His companion, a slender girl with silver hair that shone in the moonlight, glanced at him with faint contempt. "Keep your mind on the job, Jon. If you save that pretty head, then you can go and chat."

"Chat?" He grinned back affectionately. His associate had been with the angels scarcely a moon and already he adored her, despite her *many* failings. "I wasn't planning on *chatting*. Who knows, our lovely lamia may just be the other half of my deprived soul."

She shook her head disdainfully, and continued to watch the scene below.

Jon watched her with amusement born of close friendship. An honour he was proud to claim, despite her capricious nature.

She almost seemed to be glowing in the moonlight, her eyes fixed on the view below, lovely face expressionless

Dragon, they called her. No one knew who she was, except perhaps their head, Feivel - another mystery to them all. What she was...Jon knew only that she was fierce, and fiercely loyal, as passionate as the fire element she echoed. Still, it was better that no one knew much - that way, you couldn't tell anyone else anything. Willingly or otherwise.

They were sitting by the window in the first floor of a building by the dead end. Dragon called the shots on this one, and she was picking her moment carefully - almost too carefully, Jon thought. Leave it much longer and that lamia'll be into trouble she can't handle.

The vampires strolled closer to the girl. Lazy, gliding pace. They would take their time, make it slow...get as much out of her as they could. Information was valuable. Barter for life, later on, or barter for a tidy sum of money that would keep them away from the streets until it was wasted away on expensive habits.

Their eyes were glowing, fangs glinting opal white in open mouths. He could see their muscles tightening, their bodies seeming to streamline in the pouncing mode. The stake being raised slowly, to give maximum effect.

Jon nudged the girl beside him. "Ready?" There was real urgency in his voice.

She nodded, flung open the window. Her glance was serene, if her eyes were a touch irritated. "I wouldn't let anything go wrong. Trust me."

Jon nodded. Silently, he dropped from the window, landing right behind the two vampires.

The lamia stared at him in shock, pupils wide, amber eyes dominating the terrified face. He winked, and felt the gladness radiating from her mind. Young - hadn't really learned to shield yet.

As their eyes met he felt a momentary shock, a tugging sensation and barely a flicker as his mind was suddenly engulfed by her terrified thoughts.

~ Must run. Too close...ripped apart...remember Elsa - night-walking/followed/the funeral. Fear-black-snake, who you? ~

And Jon realised that his joke about her being the other half of his soul wasn't so funny now.

For a split second their thoughts tangled, knowledge shared as he wrenched his mind away with a brief apology and tried to ignore the conflicting feelings inside him. That was his soulmate!

Behind him a light flared.

The vampires spun, their faces showing identical expressions of surprise, then consternation and finally amused contempt as they took in the scene.

After all, just an ordinary made vampire - no problem for them there - and behind him, a teenage girl, silver hair and silver eyes glowing in the light, sparkling black fire glowing between her palms. A witch, they would think, one who had learned to control the new powers quickly.

They were in for a nasty shock.

They didn't call her Dragon for nothing. She was one of the true powers, the oldest of the races and she utilised every bit of power her birthright gave her. Jon had seen her in action a thousand times before and each time made him marvel more.

Both sides stared at one another, then the blond vampire laughed. Without warning, he *sprang*.

That was his first mistake.

Fire exploded towards him, a streak of lightning that scoured across his face and burnt coldly. He yelled as his left eye was lost to the fire. When it hit his neck, he dropped, knocked out by a force that could transform mountains into beaches. Jon stood back and let Dragon do all the work. He was just the back-up system, if anything went wrong. As if.

The vampire boy smiled reassuringly at the lamia, who stared fixedly back, still flattened against the wall.

He was inwardly amazed at the speed with which Dragon shifted into a snow leopard.

She leapt at the dark vampire, her claws raking his chest as she pounced. With unerring swiftness the leopard's paw clouted the vampire hard, and knocked him to the pavement on his knees. The cat's shape wavered and merely a collected witch girl stood before him.

Her smile was as thin and icy as a crescent moon.

"Who are you?" he spat. His eyes promised slow revenge, his body taut with anger. But now Jon looked closely, he could see that this one wasn't much more than a child.

The dragon-witch laughed softly and tilted her head to one side. "Call me...an angel."

His breath hissed in soft. "You! Interfering idiots. I'll remember you..."

A single elegant roll of those shoulders and an elusive smile dragging her lips upwards. "So melodramatic. Thought about a life in the theatre? Bat on a Hot Tin Roof, perhaps?"

"Don't laugh at me," he said, but he sounded more petulant than angry.

Dragon bent down and thrust her face close to his. "You're just a goddamn kid," she said. "How long since you joined our wonderful world of immortals?"

He flushed, but when Dragon wanted answers, people gave them to her. "Nearly a year now."

"Let me give you some advice," she said. "If you're going to stay alive, you'd better get better at what you do. Fast."

Her body whipped forward and her hand snapped his head back with a sharp crack. He fell, stunned and unconscious.

And it was over. Swift and short.

The lamia girl was staring at them, shaking slightly. She took a step forward, cautiously, then said in a puzzled voice, "You're the angels? Why did you help me? Who-what are you?" The last was addressed to Dragon, who stared impassively back.

Jon gave her a regretful smile. "We helped you. That's all you need to know." Then he leaned forward and took her hand. Again their minds were linked. "Don't tell anyone about this. Definitely not Daybreak, because the more they know, the closer you come to losing our protection."

She mumbled an assertion and Jon almost released her hand. She was as shocked as he at the revelation but...there was a wild joy in her. Meliah. That was her name.

Then he looked at her face again, felt a twinge of regret that so much concealment was necessary and had a momentary surge of rebellion. There was such innocence in her eyes, a purity he had long lost working in this world of deceit and secrecy and death.

He sent her a rapid message that only they could hear. Mental voice confident and confiding.

~ Call me. ~

He left her his number and turned back to Dragon. She knew, from the tilt of her eyebrows and the line of her lips. And she found it funny.

He scowled at her and she waved a hand. ~ I didn't hear that. Okay? You're *such* a playboy, Jonathan. ~

Grateful, Jon nodded. She didn't know just *what* that lamia was to him though. And Jon had no intention of telling her, letting her know. Until tonight, he hadn't believed in soulmates and now...all the evidence went against that.

Their rules were strict. Not all these angels obeyed the rules. It would lead, perhaps, to disaster. But neither knew that, and if they had, neither would have cared overmuch.

They left like they had arrived; without fuss, without any indication that they were anything but a pair of teenagers.

The lamia watched, confused, but grateful. If they hadn't been there...she shuddered, then made her way back to the safety of her home. Circle Daybreak would never know...

Until two months later when the lamia married a vampire called Jon.

It began a chain of events that changed lives. With Jon leaving the angels, Dragon Tiamat lost her partner. She was assigned to work with the leader of their organisation for a time. And Feivel's first mission took them where she would rather not have gone, and into trouble she could never have foreseen.

But that was yet to pass.