Weeping Stones

The events of the evening had shaken the clan to its core. Not that they'd ever admit it aloud. They were far too proud for that. But I saw it in the way the various factions exchanged clipped glances.

I heard it in the brittle silence that followed the test. I was still trying to make sense of it. Whoever had laid claim to me. I didn't know them. At least I don't think I did. Not truly. Not consciously.

Just when the chaos started to settle, another rupture none of them could patch.

Whoever, or whatever, had laid claim to me, they weren't stepping forward. Not even to me. I didn't know who they were, only that the bond was real. Unmistakeable, irrevocably real. I could feel its power whisper on my skin like the brush of a light wind. It hummed through my bones like an old melody I'd forgotten how to hum.

And it terrified them.

And when the clan doesn't like an answer, it doesn't ask why. It rewrites the question. Justifies. Contorts. Controls. Reality was clay in their hands. Something to be molded until it looked the way it wanted.

For the test to have revealed the claim came from the outside. A trial of their own making. A time tested sacred, ancient and infallible test. I didn't lie. I didn't claim anything.

It claimed me.

So, of course, back to the pit I went.

This time, my cellmate was already standing when the guards shoved me through. A strange thing, that. Usually, he was lounging, half-sprawled on the stone like he had all the time in the world.

Now? He looked alert. Tense, even.

A sigh of relief on my lips to be back 'home' even if home were a rat-infested hole. Here I could relax.

His eyes weren't teasing or amused. "Well, that's new."

I blinked, annoyed and exhausted. "Care to explain, or would you like me to guess?"

He pointed to the stone beneath me. "You might want to take a look."

I followed his gaze.

The stone I sat upon was glowing—softly at first, then stronger. Not faded or half buried like before. It shone with a pale white light with a tinge of gold, curling like mist. Around me, the cell's stale air shivered with hidden power.

I jerked my hand back like I'd been burned. "What was that?"

My companion came to crouch next to me, eyes flickering. "If I were wager a guess. It's your gift. You breached their binding. Something they didn't plan for."

I stared at my palm, unmarked. My throat tightened, " I was in a nightclub a year and some ago, flirting with a guy who wanted to fang me. I'm a nobody. This makes no sense."

We exchanged a look at where I had placed my palm back on the stone. The warmth returned, coiling up through my wrist, climbing to my shoulder. Then the pain. White-hot. Purifying.

Like fire itself licked through my marrow.

My knees hit the floor, drawn into a position I had become familiar with in the garden.

I didn't scream.

Not after the trials.

He stayed crouched beside me. Still. Quiet. Like a man at a graveside.

"I think it's time you knew my name," he said, as if debating whether to share.

I gave him a look through the sweat, now clicking my brow. "That sounds ominous."

He focused on her with a new intensity. "You should have stayed as you were. You were safer in chains."

"Too late for that." My hand still trembled, but the pain was easing now, replaced by a strange calm. "Not like I had a choice."

"There's always a choice, little flame."

My gaze snapped back toward him. "Then take it up with whoever put that mark on me. They didn't exactly ask permission."

His eyes weren't cruel anymore. Just... haunted. "What mark?"

Under their branding.

He sucked in a swift intake of breath.

"You know something, don't you?" I pressed him, ignoring his question.

"I might," he replied slowly. "But, I'll need time."

"No more riddles. If you're that spooked, I want the whole story. Starting with why you look like you've just received a death sentence."

He hesitated, then nodded to the far wall. "Do you recall what I said the first night you dropped into this charming hole?"

"Yeah, I thought you were a lunatic. Still might. What nutbar would stay in a hole like this?"

"He gave a thin smile. "Well, I passed their tests. Once. All of them. See, I wasn't always a vampire."

I snorted. "Obviously. We were all human once."

He gave me a look that made the hairs on the back of my arms stand at attention. "Not quite. My lineage is of the angelic remnant."

I blinked slowly. Then laughed. "Right. Sure. A vampire angel. Do you sparkle in the sun too, or just spout slam poetry?"

The silence stretched long enough to kill the joke.

"You're serious."

"Not enough to ascend. Not enough to die. Trapped somewhere in between."

"And you think I'm one of those?

"Not exactly-" he broke off and began to scratch an outline of a familiar picture. "Have you ever seen this?"

I stared. "I've seen something similar in the halls. When they brought me in for the evaluation." It felt like a lifetime ago.

"Yes, the woman in radiant veils. Her glyphs are very similar to this."

"Okay, and how does this involve me?"

"The mural has a way to test the line of descent. It was carved in secrecy, and-"

This time I laughed even harder. "Did they bash you in the head while I was away?"

He had the good sense to look confused. "No, I've been waiting for your return."

I looked at the dirt that typically lined the pit, it had been neatly placed to the side. "I see that, it looks like you were busy rearranging our dirt."

"Maybe. But Lydia-," his eyes took on a shine I hadn't ever seen before, but I could barely keep my eyes open.

I stifled a yawn. "Can we put a pin in this? I'm about 72 hours into a 24-hour day, and I'm about ready to have a psychotic episode."

"Lydia-" he opened his mouth then shut it. Repositioning her arm so it tucked under her head, and smiled when she began to snore in soft little honks.