Blood Life Page 19

  Devendra looked after Alethea and cleared her throat, waiting for her to be out of hearing range. “That is exactly what I’m afraid of,” she whispered, even too low for Roman to hear.

  One is easier than the other to rid the vampire world of, but the union could bring the end.

  Devendra prayed to Lillith, begging for forgiveness of her choices, but most of all for the strength she needed to put an end to Lokee’s path of destruction—and the ability to forget him as ever being her son. She was torn, but her mind was set. Fate was set. She would kill him, both of them if need be, never looking back, finally making the right choice.

  “Death is the great hope of all life;

  the desire to expend itself;

  to be used and consumed

  by its own longing for itself.“

  –Bryant H. McGill

  Thirty Nine

  “You realize that you won’t be at battle against only me?”

  Devendra swung around to meet eyes with Lokee, who stood uncomfortably close to her. She felt his hot breath in the air before her. Her hair was still settling from her swift movement, her eyes burned with abhorrence.

  He looked deep into her sapphire eyes, attempting with gall to read into her very soul. She smirked, mocking his doggedness.

  Turning the color of fiery yellow prisms, Lokee’s eyes silently begged hers to let them in. Several anxious moments passed before he came to terms with defeat and blinked, breaking their intense contact. Devendra was unmoving, except for the curls that deepened at the corners of her mouth.

  He was taunting her, teasing the fact that she planned to kill him. He saw the idea as a joke, and enjoyed the fright he had brought to his race. While it was true he held a soft spot in his heart for Devendra, the evil infesting him would not allow him to turn back on his plans to take over the Combined. The Kriestos held too much confidence in his ability to do so; it was no longer a matter of winning. It was the honor of being looked upon as a god—he would become the Father of the Combined, and Lorien, if he located her, would be the Mother. The King and the Queen.

  “Why are you here?” Devendra’s chocolately voice cut viciously through his pleasant daydream. He actually included it there: a claw ripped right through the picture in his mind of Lorien and himself doing the waltz in front of a 6-foot-tall fire, laughing and whispering to one another. She ruined it with her jealousy. Her nasty claw ripped right through the image giving him a headache.

  He sneered at her like a child before answering. “There will be more than just me,” he announced, relocking their eyes.

  “Oh? Is this about Lorien? Will she be lending her gracious hand?”

  Uncomfortable silence.

  “I bet she’d like to save your life since you saved hers all those years ago, right?” Her face was made of cold, hard porcelain; her eyes burned with fury.

  Lokee’s mouth dropped, just a little, before he could contain himself. The sad look that crept over his face did not go unnoticed by Devendra. She crossed her arms, putting her finger to her lips as if in thought. “I have heard a few things here and there. Though, I’ll admit, I’ve been a bit repulsed by the thought of her at your side. After all, she didn’t have any problem leaving you stranded all those years ago, without even so much as a backward glance in your direction. I’ve often wondered when she’d turn up again and suck you in.”

  Devendra looked him up and down, walking in a circle around his dwindling form. “You’re WEAK!” she spit harshly. “She only has to apologize to lure you back to her. You haven’t the balls to say no to her. She owns you! You’re pathetic!”

  Staggered, Lokee fought to keep his face straight throughout her verbal attack.

  Was Lorien back? Did she want to find him? Would he be so easy on her?

  “What’s wrong, sonny? Cat got your tongue?” Devendra stood squarely a few feet in front of him, her hands resting delicately on her hips. The sleeves of her silver dress hung elegantly toward the floor; he admired her form for an instant, the thick glossiness of her black hair, the brilliance of her cat eyes. Pushing the thought of complimenting her to the furthest corner of his mind and locking it away tight, he glared at her with as much contempt as he could muster in his moment of weakness.

  No. Lorien would pay for her crime against him, but that would wait until they were face-to-face. He wasn’t going to try to contact her; let her come crawling back to him.

  He faked a yawn. “I don’t know what you are talking about, darling mother, nor do I care. Do you think I’d still shell out so much bitterness, or even care less about you and your precious Roman and Alethea, had she returned to me?” His canines dug into his bottom lip spilling fresh blood into his mouth. He lifted a hand to wipe at the dribble that escaped his lapping tongue.

  Devendra maintained eye contact as she backed toward the door. “You wouldn’t tell me either way. I don’t know why I bother with the possibility.” She couldn’t help but notice his shock and believable pain from the mention of Lorien’s name. His reaction made her think that if Lorien’s soul was back, he did not know it for certain yet. Perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps Lorien hadn’t returned at all.

  He smiled maliciously as he followed her lead to the door. “Maybe I would,” he shrugged, “or maybe you just aren’t strong enough to be sure!”

  “Then why are you here? Were you worried about me?”

  “Never,” he insisted through his teeth.

  She gave him a sarcastic look. “Just leave!” She thrust her hand out the door to express herself more clearly, “or stick around and choose your death.”

  “Do you hate me that much,” he said, still standing in the same place.

  She stared at him dangerously.

  “You act like I’m the traitor here when it was you who went against Lillith!”

  In a heartbeat, Devendra lunged for his neck with her hands cupped in the air. Lokee caught her and they tumbled down to the floor. Snapping herself back into control, remembering to wait for the right time to finish him, she broke away from his grasp and brushed herself off. She was breathing heavily from the attack and Lokee looked up at her from the floor.

  “Does that look say you are surprised I didn’t kill you just now?” she asked, brushing her hair back from her face.

  He stood up and regained his composure. “No,” he said, laughing. “But that was the first time I was actually subject to such physical aggression from you. I see that I should consider getting used to it, eh?” He grinned as he strutted toward the open door.

  Devendra watched him closely as he walked past her. Meeting him in the doorway, her eyes were filled with more spite than before. “Yes, you should, Lokee.” She lowered her voice to a meaningful whisper and leaned in closer to his face. He froze for a moment, believing she might kiss him. Instead, she moved her lips to his right ear and whispered derisively, “I despise you, the very air you breathe. When the day comes, I will be victorious and you will be ashes that no element will agree to absorb.” She grabbed hold of his arms and shoved him out the door. “You make me sick,” she hissed, slamming the door in his face.

  She listened through the door for a few seconds before walking away from it. She should have killed him then. Why in the world did she procrastinate?

  No, she thought, I must wait.

  Roman and Alethea must be involved; that is what must be! If she were to do away with him alone, she would have changed Fate. She couldn’t afford to go against Lillith’s wishes again. Never again.

  Lokee had wanted her to kill him; that was why he visited her. She was sure of it. The pain of her hate tore at his blackened heart, and if Lorien was never to return, that would give him even more reason to give up on leading the Kriestos. Without him, they would no longer have a fleeting chance of controlling the underworld. The Combined held firm to their ground; Lokee offered the only possibility to change that with his bloodline. But the only reason he would visit her like that, unannounced and unprotected, would have been t
o provoke her. To tempt her.

  She walked to the sliding glass door and opened it. Walking out onto the redwood patio, she leaned on the banister and took a few deep breaths to ground herself. She called out to Roman, wishing him there with her. She wanted to tell him what happened, how it was a sign that Lokee may be willing to die without a real fight, and that Lorien may not have come back to assist him. But that was too crazy; Lokee was too clever to be read that easily. Trickery was one of his strongest traits.

  Devendra turned around with a start as Lokee bravely approached her once more. “How dare you stalk me!” she cried. “I asked you to leave!” she yelled in rage, horrified by the fact she hadn’t sensed his advance.

  “Not until you tell me what is in store for me and my men,” he insisted, playfully, with his hands on his hips.

  “Wipe that look off your face, or I’ll—”

  “You’ll what?” he asked excitedly.

  Feeling a rush of energy surge through her body, Devendra felt Lillith’s spirit rush into her. With powerful arms in the air, a blinding ball of fire forming between them, she moved toward him.

  “Almighty Mother, take of this rotten fruit and burn it in fiery dungeons; let it live in isolation and torture in the depths of Nothingness for all eternity.” She released the ball and watched as it rolled swiftly in his direction. He backed away as calmly as possible, trying not to show his fear. He carefully stepped back and over to the marble steps that led to her bedroom. The ball rolled slowly, waiting for him to lose his balance and stumble to the ground so that it could roll over him, burning him to a crisp.

  Clinging to the pillars that supported the grand entryway, he cried out for her to release it. The ball rolled in place, patiently, moving synchronously with Lokee’s every breath.

  Devendra watched the fireball with pleasure as the house began to tremble under her words. “Lend him no hand of which he would use to disobey; speak to him no words of woe. Take and dispose of the creature who seeks to overtake our race and turn us into monsters we were never meant to be!”

  Lokee broke himself from the pillar, leapt over the rolling ball, and shoved his way past Devendra, vanishing from the room. Turning to yell after him, Devendra burst into laughter before collapsing from the exhaustion of the possession. Lillith released a sense of approval into Devendra as Her essence parted for the sky, displaying only a brilliant silvery-white streak of light.

  Forty

  Alethea awoke the next afternoon entangled in Roman’s sleeping arms. He looked peaceful and unafraid. She was a little jealous of his escape in sleep. Hoping not to dream, sleeping was tense. There were no dreams of beautiful, grassy fields, or serene strolls in parks with loved ones, only nightmares of destruction and Lokee’s vengeance.

  She was learning to control her dreams better, but Lokee always won in the end. The battle was constant in sleep, so she struggled with all she could to sleep as little as possible. She had given up on telling Roman and Devendra of Lokee’s visits night after night. She would rather they took the feeling of her happiness instead. Besides, she felt it was her fault Lokee learned the map of their conspiracy against him from entering her mind constantly. She wasn’t strong enough to shield herself from him, and for that she felt ashamed.

  She felt ashamed, but also realized it wasn’t her strength that was weak, it was the Vampire Mark Lokee had branded her with. That Mark gave him ownership of Alethea’s soul, leaving no means of escape from his reach. Not ever. Maybe it would be easier to give in to him instead of dragging her loved ones down with her.

  Carefully wiggling herself from Roman’s hold, she crawled out of bed soundlessly to retreat to the bathroom. She closed the door behind her and walked over to the mirror. She rested her hands on the sink, bowing her head. When she looked up into the mirror again, she caught a glimpse of Lokee’s reflection behind her. Startled, she jumped back into the wall. Enraged by his violation of her woken state, she crashed her fists into the mirror with a scream, shattering it to pieces.

  “Get out of my head!” she cried, falling to the ground weeping. She let herself cry; bloody tears running down her cheeks tasting of coppery salt water. She fingered at a droplet that fell on the cold tile, making shapes with it.

  The air shifted around her and she caught a whiff of death. Collecting herself, she sat up and wiped the tears from her cheeks. The stench was suddenly overwhelming.

  Alethea threw open the bathroom door and ran over to the bed. Roman was still sound asleep. She snuggled back in, close to the warmth of his body for comfort.

  Death hung around her, tantalizing the air. Shaking Roman awake, she told him about the bathroom incident.

  “Just now,” he asked, rubbing his eyes. “What’s that smell?” He took in several deeps breaths to try to identify the stench. He slowly pushed himself up and out of bed, walking into the bathroom to investigate.

  “He’s gone, now. But he was there,” Alethea promised, breathing deeply, trying to get another sniff of what now ceased. “The smell is gone now, too. That is how he plays, Roman. With me only, as though he wants me to appear mad!” she explained, feeling paranoid and out of control. “I think it’s working!” She looked around the room, wide-eyed and furious. “It’s working, you lousy son-of-a-bitch!” she hissed through her teeth. “It’s working!”

  “No, it’s not. It’s not working. You’re not mad.” Roman walked over to the bed and sat down next to Alethea. Pulling her close to his chest, he brushed her hair back from her forehead and held her tight. The skin on her forehead was damp, and fine strands of her hair clung fast to it despite his brushing. “Ssshhh. I know you wouldn’t lie about this. I believe you; I’ll always believe you. If that is what he expects, he will be greatly disappointed. Devendra and I are on your side. Don’t ever worry about that, Alethea.”

  Alethea sniffed, lifting her head to look into his warm gray eyes. “I just want this all to be over with. I feel like he planted the smell to draw us in. To distract us. To distract you so that I would be unprotected for a moment, giving him the opportunity to take me.”

  Roman opened his mouth to speak, but she hushed his attempt with her index finger, placing it gently over his lips. “He wants the battle to begin. He is tired of waiting. This is a game to him. He continues to torture me in sleep when I am most vulnerable to him. I haven’t slept a full night in a long time. I am so tired, Roman. I am tired and I am weak. I feel wide open.”

  She decided it was the best time to explain the sleepless nights. Maybe that would convince Devendra to start the war. “Not a day or night goes by when I can sleep without seeing his face or hearing his voice. I honestly haven’t slept peacefully in months. And to tell you the truth, that is what may drive me crazy!”

  Roman untangled his arm from around her frame and stood up, walking over to the door. Devendra entered, her eyes carefully scanning the room, searching for Lokee’s disturbance. She looked radiant and strong as always. Alethea smiled up at her from her slumped position on the bed. Devendra came to a halt facing the window. “It’s time,” she said.

  Alethea exhaled loudly, almost heartbreakingly.

  “Where is he?” asked Roman, as he began to dress himself.

  “That I don’t know, but I thought he might be here. I thought Alethea was in danger.”

  “He was here, but only for a brief moment. A mere glimpse in my mirror. Nothing too drastic, really.” Alethea explained, sarcastically.

  Sensing the aggravation, Devendra extended her long, slender hands toward Alethea. Accepting one of them, Alethea was led into the bathroom.

  “Look, Alethea. Look really hard at your reflection.” Devendra moved Alethea’s hair away from her face. “You are one of the strongest women I have ever had the pleasure of teaching in all my life. You just haven’t learned how to use your potential fully; it will come to you in time. You are a natural.”

  Alethea looked at Devendra’s reflection in the mirror, tears filling her emerald eyes.

>   “I know you feel defenseless now, but wait a while,” Devendra cooed. “You will see that all this will pay off in the end. Then you will look back and smile.”

  Alethea held Devendra’s eyes in the mirror and said, “Let’s go, then. I’m ready.”

  Devendra kissed the back of Alethea’s head and left her to finish preparing. Alethea took the moment of solitude to focus on herself. To give gratitude to her soul for surviving all the turmoil, and for the turmoil it was destined to withstand in the very near future. To release the fear and see who she really was and what she was capable of. For the first time, she allowed herself to feel the least bit secure. And she knew, in her heart, that regardless of what she was about to face, she would come away triumphant.

  As she closed her eyes in silent prayer to Lillith, a clammy hand covered her mouth, while two hands forced her arms behind her back painfully. She let out a whimper, opening her eyes wide and looking into the mirror. Lokee stared back at her, grinning quizzically and holding a finger to his lips. His eyes warned her to remain still and quiet.

  She kicked and screamed. “He’s here! He’s here, HELP!”

  He slugged the back of her head hard, forcing her forward into the sink. She landed on her face and tasted blood. The new gash on her lip healed fast, allowing her to shake off the groggy feeling the slam had induced. She forced herself back from the sink, slamming Lokee into the towel rack behind them. He cried out, impaled by one of the ornamental, cast iron rack mounts.

  “You’re a fool! They are going to bust that door open and kill you! GET READY TO DIE!”