Time for what? But he kept a lid on himself. You didn't ask questions of the Scribe Virgin. Not unless you wanted to add being used as floor wax to your resume.
"Your birthday draws near."
True, he was going to be three hundred and three years old soon, but he couldn't think why that would warrant a private visit from her. If she wanted to fly him some birthday jollies, quick something in the mail would be just fine. Fuck it, she could rock out an e-card from Hallmark and call it a day.
"And I have a gift for you."
"I am honored." And confused.
"Your female is ready."
Vishous jerked all over, like someone had goosed him in the ass with a jackknife. "I'm sorry, what - " No questions, dumb ass. "Ah... with all due respect, I have no female."
"You do." She dropped her glowing arm. "I have picked her from among all the Chosen to be your first mate. She is the most pure of blood, the finest of beauty." As V opened his mouth, the Scribe Virgin steamrolled right over him. "You will be mated, and the two of you will breed, and you will also breed with the others. Your daughters shall replenish the ranks of the Chosen. Your sons shall become members of the Brotherhood. This is your destiny: to become the Primale of the Chosen."
The word Primale dropped like an H-bomb.
"Forgive me, Scribe Virgin... ah..." He cleared his throat and reminded himself that if you pissed Her Holiness off, they'd need barbecue tongs to pick up your steaming pieces. "I mean no offense, but I will take no female as my own - "
"You will. And you will lay with her in the proper ritual and she will bear your young. As will the others."
Visions of getting trapped on the Other Side, surrounded by females, unable to fight, unable to see his brothers... or... God, Butch... snapped the hinge on his mouth. "My destiny is as a fighter. With my brothers. I am where I should be."
Besides, with what had been done to him, could he even sire young?
He expected her to hit the fan at his insubordination. Instead she said, "How fearless of you to deny your station. You are so like your father."
Wrong. He and the Bloodletter had nothing in common. "Your Holiness - "
"You shall do this. And you shall submit of your own volition."
His reply shot out, hard and cold. "I'd need a good goddamned reason."
"You are my son."
V stopped breathing, his chest going concrete on him. Surely she meant that in the broader sense.
"Three hundred and three years ago you were born of my body." The Scribe Virgin's hood rose off her face of its own volition, revealing a ghostly, ethereal beauty. "Lift thy so-called cursed palm and know our truth."
Heart in his throat, V brought up his gloved hand, then ripped the leather off with messy tugs. In horror he stared at what was behind his tattooed skin: The glow in him was just like hers.
Jesus Christ... Why the hell hadn't he made the connection before?
"Your blindness," she said, "afforded your denial. You did not want to see it."
V stumbled away from her. When he hit the mattress, he let his ass go down and told himself now was not the time to lose his mind -
Oh, wait... he'd already lost it. Good deal, or he'd be totally freaking out right now.
"How... is this possible?" Sure, that was a question, but who the f**k cared at this point?
"Yes, I think I shall pardon your inquiry this one time." The Scribe Virgin floated around the room, moving without walking, her robes unaffected by the trip, as if they were carved from stone. In the silence she made him think of a chess piece: the queen, the one among the others on the board who was free to move in all directions.
When she finally spoke, her voice was deep. Commanding. "I wanted to know conception and birth physically, so I assumed a form sufficient to perform the sexual act and went to the Old Country in a fertile condition." She paused before the glass doors in front of the terrace. "I chose the male based on what I believed were the most desirable masculine attributes for the survival of the species: strength and cunning, power, aggression."
V pictured his father and tried to imagine the Scribe Virgin having sex with the male. Shit, that must have been a brutal experience.
"It was," she said. "I received exactly what I had gone out to find in full measure. There was no going back once the rutting started, and he was characteristic to his nature. At the end, though, he withheld himself from me. Somehow he knew what I was after and who I was."
Yeah, his father had excelled at finding and exploiting the motivations of others.
"It was perhaps foolish of me to think I could pass for something I was not with a male like him. Cunning, indeed." She looked across the room at V. "He told me he would give me his seed only if a male young would be placed with him. He had never successfully begotten the live birth of a son, and his warrior loins wanted that satisfaction.
"I, however, wanted my son for the Chosen. Your father may have understood tactics, but he was not the only one. I knew well his weakness too, and had it within me to guarantee the sex of the young. We agreed that he would have you three years after the birth for three centuries, and that he could tram you to fight on this side. Thereafter you would be for my purpose."
Her purpose? His father's purpose? Shit, didn't he get a vote?
The Scribe Virgin's voice got lower. "Having reached our accord, he forced me beneath him for hours, until the form I was in nearly died from it. He was possessed by the need to conceive, and I endured him because I was the same."
Endured was right. V, like the rest of the males in the warrior camp, had been forced to watch his father have sex. The Bloodletter hadn't distinguished between fighting and f**king and had made no allowances for females' size or weakness.
The Scribe Virgin began shifting around the room again. "I delivered you unto the camp on your third birthday."
V became dimly aware of a humming in his head, like a train was gathering speed. Thanks to his parents' little bargain, he'd been living his life in ruins, stuck dealing with the aftermath of his father's cruelty as well as the war camp's vicious lessons.
His voice dropped to a growl. "Do you know what he did to me? What they did to me there?"
"Yes."
Throwing all rules of etiquette into the shitter, he said, "Then why the f**k did you let me stay there."
"I had given my word."
V burst to his feet, his hand going to his privates. "Glad to know your honor stayed intact, even if I didn't. Yeah, that's a fair f**king exchange."
"I can understand your anger - "
"Can you, Mom? That makes me feel so much better. I spent twenty years of my life fighting to stay alive in that cesspool. What did I get? A scrambled head and f**ked-up body. And now you want me to breed for you?" He smiled coldly. "What if I can't impregnate them? If you know what happened to me, you ever think of that?"
"You are able."
"How do you know?"
"Think you there is any part of my son I cannot see?"
"You... bitch," he whispered.
A blast of heat came out of her body, hot enough to singe his eyebrows, and her voice cracked through the penthouse. "Do not forget who I am, warrior. I chose your father unwisely, and we both suffered for the mistake. Do you think I remained unharmed as I saw what course your life laid? Think you I watched from afar unaffected? I died every day for you."
"Well, aren't you Mother f**king Teresa," he shouted, aware that his own body had started to heat up. "You're supposed to be all-powerful. If you'd given a shit, you could have stepped - "
"Destinies are not chosen, they are conferred - "
"By who? You? Then are you the one I should hate for all the shit that was done to me?" Now he was glowing all over; he didn't even have to look down at his forearms to know that what was within his hand had spread throughout him. Just. Like. Her. "God... damn you."
"My son - "
He bared his fangs. "You do not call me that. Ever. Mother and son... we aren't that. My mother would have done something. When I couldn't help myself, my mother would have been there - "
"I wanted to be - "
"When I was bleeding and torn up and terrified, my mother would have been there. So don't fly me that sonny-boy bullshit."
There was a long silence. Then her voice came clear and strong. "You will present yourself to me following my sequester, which starts this night. You will be presented of your mate as a formality. You will return when she is suitably prepared for your use, and you will do what you were birthed to do. And you will do it of your own free choosing."