As I took a step toward the humans, I stumbled, the knots in my stomach hardening into painful lumps. I caught myself with one hand on the ground before I fell.
The ground shifted, and I could see the women’s faces in the dirt and rotting leaves. The soil, black and lush, shifted until I was surrounded by the faces, the eyes staring accusingly.
“You killed me. Killed me.” The accusation was soft, but powerful, the mouths yawning wide as if in horror.
“You took my love, all that I had to offer, and you left me,” another cried.
“You owe me your soul,” a third demanded.
I drew back with a soft hiss of denial.
“I never touched you, other than to feed.”
I straightened my shoulders and faced the women squarely.
“I live by blood and I took what you offered. I did not kill. I did not pretend to love you. I have nothing to be ashamed of. Go away and take your accusations with you. I did not betray my honor, my family, my people or my mate.”
I had many sins to answer for, but not this. Not what these sensual women with their greedy mouths were accusing me of.
I snarled at them, raised my head with pride and met their cold eyes straight on. My honor was intact.
The women and men screamed then, the shadows lengthening, casting dark bands across their bodies, like ribbons of chains.
Their arms stretched toward me, talons growing on their fingernails, smoke swirling around their writhing forms.
I shook my head, adamant in my denial of wrongdoing. I needed blood to survive-it was that simple. I had followed the dictates of my family and had protected other species.
“Feel. Feel. Touch me and you will feel again. My skin is soft. Lean. Can bring you all the way to heaven. You have only to give me your body one time and I will give you the blood you crave.” The women chanted. The men had disappeared.
I wondered why.
“I would never betray him.” I said it aloud. “I would rather die of slow starvation.”
“That death will take centuries.” The voices weren’t so seductive now, more desperate and whining, more frantic than accusing.
“So be it. I will not betray him.” I replied.
“You have already betrayed him,” one cried. “You stole a piece of his soul. You stole it and you cannot give it back.”
I searched my broken memory. For a moment I smelled a wisp of fragrance, a scent of something clean and fresh in the midst of the decaying rot surrounding me.
The taste of him was in my mouth. My heart beat strong and steady. Everything in me settled. He was real. I took a breath, let it out, breathing away the shadows around her, yet more grief poured in.
“If I have committed such a crime against him, then I will do whatever he wishes.”
Had I committed so great a sin that he had left me? Was that why the unfamiliar grief turned my heart to such a heavy stone?
I had a mate. I clung to that truth.
Little flashes of pain grew behind my eyes, burning and burning until I felt my eyes boiling.
Where was Adam? Had he deserted me? The questions crowded in fast and loud, mixing with the voices until I wanted to hit my head against the nearest tree trunk.
“Maya. You have risen early. You were to remain in the ground a few more weeks. The Prince said to make certain you did not rise too soon.”
My eyes flew open and I looked warily around me. The voice held the same timbre as that of my mother, but it was distorted and slow, each word drawn out so that the voice, instead of resonating with familiarity, seemed demonic.
I shook my head and tried to rise. My body, usually graceful and powerful, felt awkward and foreign as I fell back to my knees, too weak to stand. My gut knotted and rolled. The burning spread through my system.
“Mother. I do not know what is happening to me.” I was careful to keep my energy from spilling from that path. If this was an elaborate trap, I would not draw her mother into it.
“You must go back to the ground, Maya. You cannot rise. You have journeyed long from the tree of souls. Your journey is not yet complete. You must give yourself more time.”
I withdrew immediately from my mother’s touch. It was the right path. The voice would be the same if it wasn’t playing in slow motion.
But the words-the explanation was all wrong. It had to be. I couldn’t go to the tree of souls unless I was dead.