Chapter 16: Evolutionary Ladder
“You need to listen to me very carefully, Calliope,” Rafe pleaded while I continued to try to loosen his grip on my hand or gain some type of leverage. “I promise you that Thrace will not be hurt.”
I attempted to head butt Rafe but he moved back just in time to avoid my attack. He did take his hand off my mouth so I could scream mindlessly “Let me go!”
Rafe decided to take a new tactic and pinned me to the wall with his whole body up against mine as he pressed his lips to my ears and hoarsely promised me, “When you calm down, I will try to explain the unexplainable to you, and then we can go rescue Thrace and get out of here.”
The intensity of both the sounds from the room and the hypnotic base of the rave sent my senses spinning. Rafe’s close proximity literally felt like he was glued to every part of me. This sensory overload distracted me momentarily from my fight or flight instinct. Unfortunately, it caused a much more electric and basic need in me. As my eyes dropped to his lips, I started to instinctively tilt my head, go up on my tiptoes, and sway towards him.
Rafe once again pulled his head back, moved his hands from my wrists to my shoulders and said in a frustrated growl, “No Calli, not now!”
His rejection was a cold splash of water in my face again which lifted the sensual haze from my mind and replaced it with guilt over my utter distraction from my boyfriend issues.
“Calliope, you need to focus if we want to get out of here unscathed. By now, I think you realize that your world is not quite what it appeared. I am going to give you the short version now, but once we get Thrace out of here, I will tell you the rest,” he promised.
“Fine. Explain this cluster flock to me!”
Rafe whispered, “Long ago Homer pieced together a group of myths and legends to chronicle the Trojan War. He described an extraordinary pantheon of gods and goddesses in his epic poems The Iliad and The Odyssey. In ancient Greece, humans worshipped these gods and goddess as their religion. What humans failed to realize was that these gods needed humans to survive—not the other way around. ”
I shook my head in disbelief as Rafe continued on, “Most of what your world calls immortals are merely human vampyre that are just one rung higher on the evolutionary ladder. They might live longer than regular humans and have faster reflexes, but they can be killed. These vampyre are made, not born. Their souls are in limbo until they are reunited in death. Then there are the demigods--these creatures were made thousands of years ago when a god or goddess mated with a human. They are immortal in that they are born and reborn when they are killed. However, their souls stay in limbo while they walk the earth unless Zeus grants them a special privilege. Finally, the Twelve Olympians are the tip of the sword in the immortal world—the fastest, the strongest, and the most powerful. They are also born then reborn if killed. However, their souls are carried within very special humans. The human skill-based equivalent of our immortal hierarchy would be like a high school athlete vs. a college athlete vs. a professional athlete.”
I was astounded at how normal he tried to make the creatures that were currently feasting on my boyfriend seem. “Thanks for that clarification and history lesson, but it is about time to go pull that harpy off my boyfriend. Just so I know, is she a high school, college, or pro athlete?” I muttered sarcastically.
Rafe’s jaw tightened, “Aglaea is a demigod, and one of the three Graces, so she is a college athlete as are her sisters. And there is nothing to be gained by attacking her, and much for you to lose by gaining the attention of her benefactor, Ares, the ruler of Detroit!”
“Kickin her graceful eyas definitely gains me something. But if there is one thing I learned in karate, it is to pick your battles. I would love to pick this one right now, but I have a feeling you’re not going to let me.”
“Your feeling is correct,” Rafe replied with strained amusement.
During Rafe’s story and my response, the noises coming from the room began to fade until only the sounds of the rave could be heard.
“I think we can go retrieve your property soon,” Rafe said in a melting tone that made me lose focus again.
I was caught in his burning gaze as I whispered, “He’s not my property—humans do not possess each other like that.”
He ran his fingers through my hair and surmised, “Can anyone truly possess or resist you, Siren?” Then he leaned into me and touched his lips to mine in the most delicate kiss. But it was over in an instant as we heard the Graces raucously departed their prey. Rafe kept me shielded in the alcove until we no longer heard their tacky revelry as they headed back to the rave.
Rafe grabbed my hand and guided me to the room where Thrace was taken, “Let the rescue mission commence.”
My eyes scanned the dimly lit room for Thrace as I saw all three guys sitting on the floor leaning against different walls. They looked dazed, almost stoned. I tried to dampen down my panic as I dashed toward Thrace. As I leaned over him and touched his face I whispered, “Thrace, are you all right?” He seemed completely spaced out with a dopey grin on his face, but he didn’t reply. I immediately checked for his breathing and heartbeat like I had seen my mom do, and both seemed normal. As I checked him out, I noticed the small puncture marks on his neck.
“We need to get them all out of here, right now. I’ll take Thrace, and you, Mr. Olympian Pro Athlete, take the other two.” I commanded.
Rafe merely nodded and started to effortlessly pull up the first of the two boys off the floor. “How do you know I am an Olympian?” Rafe questioned with an inquisitive grin.
“Call it a hunch,” I replied sarcastically as I tried to pull Thrace off the floor. Once I got him standing, I wrapped my arm around his waist and pulled his arm over my shoulder. By the time I maneuvered Thrace to the door, Rafe had both guys on either side of him and was ready to depart. A little of Thrace’s coordination and muscle control seemed to slowly be coming back, but he was still acting like he was drugged.
“I know a short cut out. Follow me.” Rafe stated.
I mumbled, “Why am I not surprised,” as I lumbered after his graceful form. In mere minutes, we were out to his Explorer and loading the three guys into the back--which was a good thing, because I felt like I was about to drop Thrace on his dazed derriere.
“I will give you the long version of the tale after we drop off these gentlemen at Thrace’s house,” assured Rafe.
I shot Jazz a quick text to let her know that Rafe was taking me home, and I would fill her in later. The trip to Thrace’s house only took about 15 minutes and consisted of three main activities: 1) silently freaking out at the my new bizarro world; 2) checking on the boys in the back seat; 3) begging Rafe to assure me that the boys were fine.
Rafe shot me a sheepish smile and remarked, “So what’s the plan?”
“Luckily, Thrace’s parents keep a key under the front door mat, and they’re very sound sleepers. So cut the lights, pull in the driveway, and while I get the door open, you start rounding up the boys. But leave the engine running just in case.”
I found the key right where it had always been. I opened the front door as quietly as possible and went back to retrieve Thrace. He was still dazed and dopey, but at least he had a little more coordination. Rafe had the other two guys out of the Explorer. Every step I took I expected to see Thrace’s mom or dad flip on a light and totally bust us. Luckily, I could navigate Thrace’s house in the dark as well as my own. Rafe adeptly decided to go sideways behind me to reduce the chances of collision with furniture. We made it to the den. Rafe put Justin and Spart on the couch while I placed Thrace in his favorite chair.
As I looked down on Thrace, I desperately whispered to Rafe again. “Promise me that if we leave them here, they will be fine!”
Rafe whispered back in a reassuring tone, “As you checked a hundred times now, they are fine. They won’t even have a hangover. They will be a little tired and even their marks will disappear by morning.
I swear this to you, Calliope.”
I looked down at Thrace again to assure myself that he was resting peacefully. I checked on Justin and Spart again. I definitely seemed to be in worse shape than they were because I was definitely not pleasantly buzzed. I was in shock, and if I didn’t want answers so bad I would definitely be taking a seat on the coffee table to watch over the guys. I finally led Rafe out of the house with an extremely guilty conscience. We quickly got back into the Explorer and headed toward my house.
Rafe sensed my thoughts and headed me off. “Calli, it’s going to take me all of a minute to get to your house. My guess is your questions are going to take a lot longer than that. So, let’s discuss the next part of your plan.”
He was right. He was already at the turn from Puritan onto Warwick and promptly parked about three houses down from mine. I glanced around to make sure no nosy neighbors were up on my tree-lined street. “My plan is for you to start talking, so you can explain to me what the FLOCK is going on,” I hissed out.
“You don’t think we would be a little less noticeable indoors than sitting out here in my car?” Rafe inquired.
“Let me refresh your memory. I have a dad that owns several guns that he likes to pretend he will use on guys that are interested in his daughter. I think that pretend part would become a lot more real if he caught a strange guy sneaking in my room. And frankly, I don’t care how flockin hot you are, Mr. Olympian or Pro Athlete or whatever, you’re not getting anywhere near my bedroom. So shut off your car and lean your seat all the way back cause we’re gonna have this discussion right here.” I commanded.
Rafe gave me his mischievous grin as he flirted, “I’m sorry. In everything I have read, telling a teenage girl you’re an immortal practically guarantees you an invitation to her room. So you cannot blame a god for trying. Why are we leaning our seats all the way back?”
I reclined my seat and turned to face him as I explained, “First, what you read was called fiction for a reason. Next, the trees and other cars on the street are good cover, but just in case a car passes, we need to be reclined so they won’t be able to see us even with your tinted windows. Now, enough of the chit chat, it is time for you to fess up Rafe.”
He hesitated, but then he awkwardly turned to face me. I stretched my legs to try to get comfortable, but my body was still rigid with shock. I tried to clear my head and grasp what happened tonight. Finally, his curious eyes met mine, and I took a deep breath and said, “My brain is on total overload, so why don’t you recap first before I ask my questions.”
Rafe gave me a hesitant smile before he summed up the information that would change my world, “You live in a world where human and immortals exist. Human vampyre only get one life although it could be a long one. Next, come of the various types of demigods, which have lived many lives.”
I was dazed, but I did manage a question. “Do they remember their previous lives?”
“Yes, but they don’t just automatically come back if they are killed. Sometimes centuries pass before they are reborn. I believe that their absence either has to do with their penance for the life they had just led or their choice on whether they want to be separated from their soul again. It is just a theory I have developed over the ages,” responded Rafe.
He continued, “Then, we have the 12 Olympians. We are immortal, and we remember all of our previous lives. And we do not have to die to be reunited with our souls. Our soul comes to us through humans with our soul inside them.”
I snarked, “Kinda like ordering take out to be delivered.”
He seemed amused by my comparison and remarked, “Although the individual who carries the soul is human, they are revered much like Olympians and guarded zealously because they are mortal. To kill or steal this type of human is tantamount to declaring war.”
I was growing slightly impatient with the information about the human soul keepers when I really wanted to discuss the immortals. It must have shown on my face because he stopped talking. My next question was, “How long have immortals been in Detroit?”
Rafe answered, “Immortals have had an organized presence here for over two hundred years. However, the human vampyre have only been here since the last century. They are called vampyre with a y not an i, like you English-speaking countries seem to love. Detroit has always been a lodestone for strife, so Ares was attracted here.”
“How many immortals are currently in Detroit?” I snapped.
Rafe pondered this for a moment before he said, “We have about 200 immortals in Detroit and the surrounding areas such as Toledo and Flint.”
I visibly swallowed and stated the obvious, “Do all immortals drink blood, and do you have to kill to do it?”
“No, it is forbidden to kill humans while drinking blood and punishable by death. But more importantly, since the drinking of blood is both pleasurable for the immortal and human, to cause pain to one will cause pain to the other. The higher up you are in the hierarchy the less you are dependent on humans. Most immortals only need about 1 pint a week—much less if you’re an Olympian. Humans have about 10 pints of blood in their body. So you are like a huge SUV, and we are like a hybrid. Just as blood is a life force to you, it is also a life force to us. We just need less of it than you--the same with food. We also need it for fuel just as you do.” He really liked his comparisons to explain things or to try to make them seem more normal and less frightening.
“Will Thrace have any additional after effects from the bite?”
Rafe held my gaze and assured me again, “Thrace will have no memory of tonight. Aglaea and the other two Graces do not tend to go back for seconds with their playthings. You all should stay away from the raves though because they are prime hunting ground for the vampyre and demigods.”
“I don’t think I will have any problem following those orders,” I said with a tremor in my voice.
Although I was relieved for Thrace and his friends, I was still scared, but I was also curious, “Do you have fangs? Do they pop out just when you want to drink blood?”
He laughed softly and said, “We don’t have fangs per se. We just have very sharp canine teeth that break the skin easily. Our saliva has a high dose of Anandamide, which means bliss and causes the rush of endorphins and dopamine that creates the pleasure for both the human and the immortal. It’s like eating a lot of chocolate. But the process goes puncture--which does hurt, lick--which triggers the pleasure, and then suck--which increases the pleasure. Our saliva also contains a chemical much like your GHB that erases your memory of the event. Finally, we place are mouth over the wound and breath in oxygen deeply through our nose. This exposes the puncture wound to oxygen that speeds up the three phases of healing: the inflammatory, proliferative, and remodeling phases. This only takes a couple of hours with the exposure of topical oxygen. The whole process of blood donation usually takes about 10 minutes, but the high from it usually lasts a couple of hours for both participants.”
“Wow, I get a science lesson with your explanation,” I said slightly freaked. I am in deep trouble because I love chocolate. “So your saliva is like chocolate that must make you pretty irresistible to women.”
His hazel eyes smoldered at me again, “No, our saliva only contains Anandamide if we bite.”
His amused expression relaxed me a bit as does the news that I am not in danger of having all my blood sucked out of my body. My fatigue started to kick in a little so I decided to curl up on the seat. I also allowed one of my hands to touch his on the center console. He understood that I was giving him a little of my trust. “So once and for all let’s clear up some basic immortal and vampyre facts. You can obviously go out in the sun just like us,” I stated.
“Yes, that was a particularly helpful piece of misinformation we published to protect the human vamps,” Rafe acknowledged sheepishly.
“When do you sleep or do you sleep?”
“We do need sleep, but much like everything else, we need less of it. Humans should get eight
hours a night, whereas we only need about four hours. Sunlight and daytime do not hurt us, but our extraordinary abilities are better suited to darkness,” Rafe explained.
“And what about the trifecta: garlic, holy water, and stakes?”
He laughed loudly which had me shushing him, “I still take credit for making the humans believe that garlic could hurt vampyre. I spread the rumor to humans, but Thalia swore that it was her acting ability that really sold the rumor. Every time she would go to attack people if they shoved garlic in her face she would cower back and run away. So after that we all had to do it, and now it’s kind of our running joke. You gotta admit it’s pretty funny--a predator being scared off by a species of onion. But, we did you a favor because eating more garlic helps prevent heart disease and has significant cardiovascular benefits.”
I raised one eyebrow in annoyance and said very dryly, “Very flockin funny.”
His loud laugh rang out again as I put my hand over his mouth. He kissed my hand then posed a question to me to better explain. “Do garlic, holy water, and stakes hurt you?”
“Well, a stake through the heart would.”
“Just as a stake directly through the heart might kill me. We are harder to kill because we are harder to catch. We also mend faster. As for the trifecta, my favorite wings at BW3 are Spicy Garlic. And, I could bathe in Holy Water or drink it, and it would feel wonderful. I am a god by trade.”
“Why keep yourself a secret if you’re so harmless, and you’re just a bunch of night owls?” I demanded.
“We are far from harmless, and humans still out number us. So it would either cause a war, or they would try to oppress us. And the basic fact is although we are at the top of the food chain, we need you to survive—that gives you power. Finally, your race is an unpredictable one. We cannot anticipate what you would do or how you would handle it. We have more power and control by staying in the shadows and living in symbiosis with humans.”
“What would stop someone from going to the Detroit Free Press tomorrow and announcing that immortals exist,” I asked.
“Other than that person sounding crazy and having no proof, nothing I guess. As you can see, we blend in. We have rules that govern our interactions with humans. If you are a human-made vampyre, we generally send you far from home once your age becomes an issue. During the night, we protect our palaces and playgrounds, so only the humans that we want in are let in. During the day, they look like the deserted buildings.”
While he was discussing immortal lore with me, he had unconsciously started to play with my hair. I began to wonder if Olympians had other special powers. So I inquired, “Is minding reading another one of your godly gifts,” I teased.
He first looked down at his hands gently touching my hair and then up at my eyes with a grin that sent shivers up my spine. He seemed to understand what I was asking, “Human-made vampyre have no additional talents beyond their usual evolutionary advantages. Demigods have other talents like Proteus has affinity for the sea. He has some control over currents, creatures, and conditions. Whereas, his sire, the Olympian Poseidon, has more control over the same elements.”
“So, Mr. Pro Athlete, what is your special talent?” I quietly inquired.
He hesitated, looked directly at me, and said, “I am known as the Messenger of the Gods and the Protector of Humans. I am at my best when serving and protecting. I generally move around since I am a messenger and a protector. However, there is great need of me in Detroit to protect humans.”
It was true that he certainly protected me this evening. However, I was a witness to immortal business, and witnesses had memory loss. So I tentatively fretted, “What do you do with witnesses to demigod extracurricular activities? Am I about to fall asleep and wake up with memory loss?”
Rafe was both shocked and slightly offended by my question. He took my hand in both of his and velvety promised, “I can’t bite you, Siren, and I will always protect you from everything, especially from yourself.” He smiled, captured my eyes in his and kissed my hand without breaking eye contact.
It felt like my heart stopped for a second as my breath caught, and I whispered, “That is quite a job you’ve taken upon yourself, Rafe. I don’t usually need protecting, but having an immortal to watch my back will definitely make me feel protected.”
With those words, I felt a game-changing decision was made. I continued to question him, and he continued to dodge and weave about the lives of his fellow immortals in Detroit. He briefly discussed the three Graces, but my adrenaline rush was fading fast. I knew that I needed sleep and time to process before I could coherently ask more questions, so I stopped him with, “I think I have hit my freak out limit for the evening, Rafe. How about we call it a night, and we pick this up tomorrow? I was supposed to stay at Jazz’s house, but I need my own bed tonight.”
Rafe slowly leaned over and kissed my forehead as he said, “I wouldn’t want you to start doubting your sanity or mine.”
I laughed and sarcastically said, “Don’t worry. This all makes perfect sense,” as I sat my seat back up.
Rafe followed my lead, and we quietly exited the SUV. We quickly made our way to the back of my house. With slightly trembling and sore legs, I stepped on a patio chair conveniently located by my tree. Rafe shook his head at me and said, “Let me handle this,” as he swept me into his arms. Somehow he managed to jump up, open my window that had been cracked, and deposit me inside in a blur of movement. Next thing I knew I was peering down on him standing on my lawn. I was pretty flockin impressed.
He grinned then stole from Shakespeare as he whispered up at me, “But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she.”
I just shook my head down at him and whispered back, “That’s not really the Shakespeare play you want to use as a model for our relationship.” But, just to show him that I was not a Shakespeare slacker I threw back, “The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, And the place death, considering who thou art, If any of my kinsmen find thee here.”
He blew me a kiss as he left, “Don’t worry. We are much more like Benedick and Beatrice from Much Ado About Nothing.
I hoped that was the case as I watched him disappear. I shut my window and went straight to where I left my comfort pajamas. As tired as I was, I needed to record the highlights of tonight’s events, or I was gonna wake up and think I had taken some club drug. I quickly typed up the bullet points of the night before I crashed into my bed face down.