Chapter Four
"Are you going to go duel the nephilim?" the Ostrogoth asked her. "I'm not entirely certain what your challenge involved, but if it is going to be a fight to the death, I might suggest it not be done in such a public venue. I know the urge to rush into battle can be great and consuming, but those of us who live within the underbelly of the dark world must maintain a certain level of consideration on how we affect the veil and the protection it gives us."
Tabitha would've thought it very easy to write off the Ostrogoth as a sort of immortal himbo, but there was a depth to the man's words and tones that made it clear to do would be a mistake that might come back and bite her in the ass sooner or later, one that clearly over twelve thousand souls had made before her, and that was more than plenty to ensure that she wouldn't allow her name to be added to that list. His advice was counsel worth heeding.
"I wouldn't say it's a duel, but I can assure you, one of us is going to totally come out on top," Tabitha chuckled, taking a sip from her flute of wine. Now that she was embracing her inherited demonic senses, everything seemed so much more
vivid
than it had just days ago. The scent of perfumes, the taste of wine, the rhythmic thumping of the bass in the track the DJ was playing their way... all of it felt intense, like her entire life had been lived out of focus and now she was wearing glasses for the first time, introduced to a world that had been all around her the entire time as she moved mostly oblivious through it. "And there may be some bruising involved."
"AH," Kai said, nodding his head. "Dominance and submission, likely of a sexual fashion. I have fought a few of those style of duels in my time, although certainly not as many as I'm certain both Casanova and Aspasia have."
"Casanova's still alive?" Tabitha asked, her interest in her target momentarily deflected, especially since Kelly seemed to be surrounded by autograph seekers and press people. There were too many witnesses for her to make her move, so it would need to be something she would be patient on. Opportunity would present itself soon enough, she felt confident. Allow for time and strike only at the correct moment. "And who's Aspasia?"
"Both of them are like me, members of The Elite, legends that, through our prowess in some field or another, have become demi-gods, attaining an imperfect form of immortality," Kai told her. "As long as we remain at the top of our game, we do not age, we do not weaken, we do not die."
"So you're immortal," Tabitha said, finding the whole subject fascinating.
"Of a sort, little demoness, but like most forms of power, it is frail and subject to its own limitations," he said as the waiter tried to slink by him, but the giant of a man reached over and grabbed a handful more of the deviled eggs he'd had earlier. "I did say our form of immortality was imperfect. We can killed just like any other human. Shot, stabbed, hung, crushed, drowned... it all works just the same. In fact, accidents are the highest cause of death among the Elite. Casanova is the greatest male lover of women alive. Aspasia is the greatest female lover of men alive. There is, assuredly, a greatest male lover of men alive, and a greatest female lover of women alive, but my path and theirs have never crossed, so they are unknown to me." He paused for a moment, chuckling, as he tilted his head back, lost in memory for a moment. "Actually, I may not know them specifically, but I suspect they were likely both there at the Great Naples Orgy, but then again, who wasn't?" He laughed, bouncing his eyebrows. "It was a hell of a time, and Aspasia is one
hell
of a woman..."
"Worth of the title of 'greatest female lover of men,' then?"
"Oh, ja, that and
so
much more. I am blessed that the memory itself has faded over time, because for over a hundred years after that, every woman felt like just a pale imitation of what true sexual ecstasy had been in those wee hours of my time in Naples," he said, trying to jostle himself from the memory, as if he was afraid he would tumble down the rabbit hole again if he thought about it too long. "In fact, I've yet to go
back
to Naples since."
"Why, Kai," she teased. "You almost sound like you're afraid."
He scowled at her, his eyebrow dropping as he turned to look at her, and for just a moment, she regretted speaking the comment aloud. "The Ostrogoth fears nothing, demoness, and you would be wise to remember that, unless you wish to be another scratch on the hilt of my blade."
"My apologies, Kai," she said, seeing if she could smooth this over quickly. "I was simply hoping to encourage you to confront your memories rather than retreat from them."
He smiled and it carried with it the centuries of experience the man had built. "There is nothing to be ashamed of in a retreat, demoness. I have gotten where I am by knowing how, when and where to provoke those in need of a duel, but that does not mean I run blindly into every fight I see. So many wish to duel in other manners these days that I rarely get the chance to let my sword breathe."
"What do you mean 'other manners?'"
"Sometimes it is socially. Sometimes it is financially. More often than not, it is a wager to be first at something, to acquire something, to achieve something... those types of things. They often result in mortal wounds, but not fatal, where someone is destroyed but not killed." He sniffed, as if he found the challenges of lesser status, but still things he needed to engage with never the less. "The stronger of those who survive such duels can sometimes go on to become excellent adversaries, but often they simply end their own life in shame."
"Fuck, Kai, remind me not to piss
you
off," Tabitha said with a laugh. "What other kinds of Elite are there?"
"The greatest shooter. The best painter. The finest military tactician. The most engaging writer. The deadliest unarmed combatant. The most moving musician. Creators and destroyers in equal measure. Hell, The Storyteller is so old, I think he's forgotten his own original name by now. Either that, or he's had so many assumed names, he can't separate his fiction from his history."
"How do they remain undiscovered?"
He nodded, as if she had made a particularly salient point. "It's more challenging now than it's ever been, but the creators create by proxy. Different names, different supporting teams, whatever it takes to let someone else take the credit for their hard work," he said with a shrug. "Such is the price of eternity. Well, one of them, anyway."