Betrayal: The Unforgiven

by Kira Hillins

  He’d heard about hidden places like this. They offered refuge for the damned. All this time he’d searched for life. How could he have missed this? And what did it matter? He could not sense Anna here. There was nothing for him but a meal and maybe a bath.

  He sighed. This was his final destination. It was time to surrender his search. One last rest before he walked into the light of day.

  He dropped down to the ground then knocked on the door. After a few moments the lock clicked. A woman dressed in a white robe opened the door with a smile. Blue eyes shined in the dim light beneath her white hood.

  “May I help you?”

  “I need shelter for the day.” His throat was gruff from months without speaking.

  “Of course.” She stepped aside as he walked into the foyer. “A dark room is waiting for you.” The rose in her cheeks deepened as she looked him up and down. “Would you like me to draw you a bath?”

  “Please.”

  She led him through another door and into a hall. The rock of the cave was carved into perfect high arches and painted off-white. Green plants sat in fat pots along the hallway. Old paintings and tapestries decorated the walls. The place had charm that reminded him of his home in England before it was destroyed.

  They strode past a room with the most remarkable scent. His tension eased. Fake sunlight cast a wondrous glow on a garden of roses. Though drawn to its light, he continued his pace toward the darkened stairs at the end of the long hall.

  “I thought you were someone else.” The woman’s whispering voice echoed around them. “Our sister is due to have her baby any day now. The entire house is excited though very worried. Father Ivan had to go to London last week and we’re afraid he won’t return in time for the event.” She shrugged as she led him down the stairs. “We’re not allowed to have dark visitors anymore. But the several that we’ve had in the past have been very kind. We are in the house of God, so we never turn anyone away, no matter what sins they’ve committed.”

  She damned him for his ways, not that he blamed her. He wasn’t a saint.

  She opened the door to the first room then turned on the light. “Your room is small, but comfortable.”

  “Thank you.” He followed her inside. Though the walls were dark, the recessed light gave the room a soft glow. A mural of the ocean took up most of the west wall. It was realistic, like looking out the patio doors of a beach house into a crisp, sunlit day. “I am surprised to see such modern amenities this far underground.”

  She made her way to the bed along the wall and drew the covers. “Father Ivan has worked very hard to make life here easier. He used his own money to bring electricity provided by the turbines above us. And for fresh water, we are tapped into the belly of the mountain. Father is a true gift from God.”

  The blush in her fair skin deepened as he looked at her. “The bath is at the end of this hall…to your left. Would you like me to wash your hair?”

  “I can manage,” he replied. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

  She bowed her head. “If there’s anything else I can do.”

  “I will call for…” He cocked his head to the side, emphasizing for her to give her name.

  “My name is Nena.”

  “You are very kind, Nena.”

  “Thank you. I’ll go start your bath now.” She smiled as she backed out of the room. “I’ll gather linens from the closet and meet you near the tub.”

  “Thank you.”

  When he heard the water start, he strode down the hall to the bath. As he entered the room, Nena draped a dark blue robe over a chair in the corner. Her heart beat swiftly as she hugged a white towel and wash cloth.

  Steam rolled into the air from the warm water filling the white claw-foot tub. He hadn't bathed in months. He couldn’t wait to get in and cleanse the filth from his body.

  Nena turned away as he undressed. “We don’t have human blood here, but I am trained to prepare a meal for your kind.”

  “Thank you,” he said as he sank down into the water. He rested his arms on the lip of the tub and sighed.

  “I will bring you fresh clothes to wear while...these are being washed. It shouldn’t take long.”

  He closed his eyes. The hot water relaxed him. His body warmed. Anna’s face flooded his mind. Passion had swept through them as they’d made love that last time. She’d tried to talk to him, to tell him something she deemed important, but he’d brushed her off. For what purpose? To fulfill his duties as an Elder? To run away like a coward? That last look she’d given him in their bedroom. He’d broken her heart. It was only fair that his stayed broken too.

  Anna. One word, one sound of your voice is all I need to find you. Please. Let me know you are with me still. I need you.

  Nothing. No voice, no whimper, just silence. He opened his eyes. That one shred of hope he’d tucked inside his heart dissipated. Tears welled as his gut churned with grief. Anna was truly dead.

  Tristan sat up and hunched over. Though desperate to control the anguish inside, he held his head in his hands and cried out. His shout echoed through the room.

  A soft touch on his back startled him. He looked up at Nena who stood beside him, a bottle of shampoo in her hands.

  “I will cleanse the dirt from your hair.”

  He leaned back against the wall of the tub and closed his watering eyes. Her touch was gentle as she lathered soap through his tangled strands. Endorphins spread through his body and his tension eased.

  “I apologize for my outburst.” He longed to hear her speak. She somewhat soothed the pain inside him.

  “I’ve met many of your kind before.” She massaged his scalp with rigid fingers. “Never have I seen such despair. You must have really loved her.”

  “I would crawl through the depths of hell to hold her again. If my time with her is but a moment, then it would be worth eternal suffering."

  She picked up the shower head and turned it on. Warm water trickled over him as she rinsed the soap from his hair. "You should not say things the devil might hear."

  "The devil already owns my soul.”

  “But God resides in all living things. He will help you if you pray.”

  “But I am not alive.”

  She picked up his towel from the chair beside the tub. “You sit here with tears in your eyes confessing of a love you no longer have. Only a living being would carry such strong emotions.”

  “My heart no longer bleeds red.”

  “But your heart beats.” She tucked the linen under his head. "Though different than mine, your blood still flows through your veins.”

  “My soul is lost.”

  “That doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

  “I do not wish to live anymore, not without her.”

  She sighed. “Then you are truly lost.”

  In silence, she towel-dried his hair. Maybe she waited for another comeback, but he had no qualms over her last words, for they were true. Without Anna, he was lost. After the pain he’d put her through, he deserved this misery. He deserved to die.

  “I can tell you’re a kind and passionate man.” She worked the comb through his hair. "It would be a shame to lose one such as yourself to the devil’s grasp. Whatever you’re going through now, in time, you will find a way to triumph.”

  He couldn’t take her words to heart. She’d flattered him, but that was all. No matter how hard this young sister tried to convince him otherwise, he wasn’t worthy of life. He should just cease to exist.

  Nena stood. “There’s a change of clothes on your bed. When you’re finished dressing, take the stairs to the main hall, then turn right down the west wing. The passage will lead you to the kitchen where your meal will be waiting.”

  He nodded. He’d thank her for her kind words but couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth. She may have spoken like a person who cared, but deep inside she must damn him for the demon he was.

  When she left the room, he rose from the bath. He put on the robe then went
to his room. He dressed in the white long sleeve shirt and black slacks Nena had left on the bed. He slipped on the dark dress shoes, and then followed her directions to the kitchen.

  It was a small cafeteria. The benches were pushed close together. A few sisters in the same attire as Nena sat near the door. They stared as he walked by, and then smiled when he gave them a short acknowledging nod.

  Nena stood on the far side of the room. She motioned with her hand for him to follow. Ignoring the whispers and giggles from the seated women, he joined Nena in the kitchen.

  “Have you ever eaten red deer?” She puckered her nose as a grin crept across her face. “There are some who have passed through here who refuse to drink rat’s blood. We would often find corpses of the deer around the convent with their…organs missing. We learned that it’s a delicacy to your kind. It gives the imbiber a sort of…high? Lifts the spirit, so to speak. It’s close to how ale affects humans.” She set a tray down on the counter in front of him. “If it isn’t to your liking, I will find something else for you to eat or drink.”

  “I have never tried this before.” He looked over the meal; the heart of a deer with a silver goblet of its blood. He picked up the fork and knife from the tray. He sliced off a piece of raw meat then placed it on his tongue. The meat was warm, fresh. It was also quite tender, easy to chew. “This is divine.”

  “I’m glad you’re pleased.”

  He drew a sip from his goblet and his body relaxed. Indeed it was like sipping a glass of wine. For so long he’d desired this dizzying sensation, and he longed for more.

  “It is a rare gift for you to carry a stomach for this, Nena.”

  She snorted a laugh through her nose. “It took a little while to grow accustomed to fixing such...pleasantries for our guests. It isn’t my favorite to prepare, and even worse to watch your kind eat. But you mind your manners very well.” She sighed as she leaned back against the counter. “I’m glad I broke the rules and let you in.”

  “Broke the rules?” He stuck another bite of meat in his mouth. Minding his manners wasn’t easy. If he allowed himself, he’d stuff the entire organ in his mouth. He’d let juices run down his chin as he chewed. But he didn’t want to frighten this poor woman.

  “We aren’t allowed to answer the door when Father Ivan is out. I only answered because we were expecting the doctor, and I thought you were him. I’m also not allowed to let your kind in anymore, but you looked like you needed a friend. So, here we are.”

  “You would call me friend?”

  The rose in her cheeks deepened again. “I’d like that very much.”

  Tristan grinned. Nena was a strong woman with envious morals. If he hadn’t decided to die in the morning light, he would accept her friendship.

  A heavy set woman with gray hair rushed through the doorway. By the sound of her labored breath, she’d run a good ways to get here. Hands clutching the front of her robe, she leaned on the frame.

  “Nena, oh dear Nena, it’s…ah…let me catch my breath.”

  Nena placed her hands on the woman’s shoulders. “What is it, Gretchen?”

  “The…the baby!” Gretchen swallowed hard. “She’s coming. I ran as fast as I could to get here. Need towels and hot water and…”

  “Wait!” Another woman made her way across the room toward them. Irish by the sound of her thick accent. “False alarm.”

  Tristan cringed from the uproar of laughter. This was too much excitement for his taste. It was time to enjoy the buzz from his meal and explore his surroundings.

  Nena bounced on her toes, eyes wide, lips spread into a big grin. “Well, what did the doctor say, Cornelia?”

  “More Braxton-Hicks contractions.” Cornelia grabbed Nena’s hands. “But he said she’s getting close! She can go into labor any time now.”

  Nena squealed in delight. “Oh, I can’t wait to see that little one.”

  Cornelia opened the refrigerator door. “She’s asking for a glass of milk.”

  “She wants milk?” Nena had a curious expression on her face. She shrugged as she retrieved a tall glass from the shelf above the deep stone sink. “Warm or cold?”

  Tristan downed his drink and then excused himself from the room. Their chaotic voices grew quieter as he strode down the hallway, vision slightly blurred, equilibrium a little off. It felt good to be drunk. To think such a simple creature carried this kind of power. Unfortunately, the drunken sensation didn’t last very long. Though left with a slight buzz, the relaxation wore off and his mind drifted back into the dark.

  He envied the man who was about to become a father. The joy in his heart must be overwhelming. To have started a family with the woman he loved filled the man with pride. Tristan had longed for that with Anna. He’d sworn to beat the demon and give her everything she desired. He’d prayed for a family. With her. Now she was gone, there was nothing left in this world for him.

  He swallowed his sorrow as he strode down the hall. He admired the red tapestries on the wall and the crystal chandeliers that lined the ceiling. This all seemed so familiar, like he’d been here before.

  He stopped near the room with the garden. A colossal painting of a man on a rearing white horse hung on the wall. The image brought a vivid memory of his childhood. The rider, dressed in black armor held a sword in his hand. The circular patterns on the blade and the hilt curved out into wolves’ heads looked just like his father’s. The only difference was that the jewel in the painting wasn’t blue, but was a deep shade of red.

  Brushing it off as a strange coincidence, he strolled toward the garden. As he walked through the doorway, he marveled at all the roses. The garden reminded him of a time when he walked in the sunlight, in the courtyard where his mother used to sit for hours. She’d watch him as he played with his toys. Though she was ill and pregnant with his brother, she’d smile as if nothing was wrong.

  A quick breath left his mouth. It’d been so long since he’d thought of her. He’d forgotten about his mother, and how awful life had become when she died.

  His father had always been mean and cold. But after she passed, life became a living hell. He’d blamed his newborn brother for her death. He’d sent him away to live with a couple in the village. After two months of being beaten and starved, Tristan’s relief came with his father’s suicide.

  Tristan shrugged off the awful memories. Calm settled over him as he breathed in the scent of a rose—a familiar fragrance he couldn’t place. Voices in the hallway caught his attention. The women from the kitchen had gathered outside the door. They peeked in at him. A grin crept across his face as he listened to their gossiping whispers.

  ***

  Anna stood as quiet as a mouse behind the sisters. She didn’t want to disturb their meeting, but she was ever curious about what they were gawking at.

  “He is quite attractive for a vampire,” Gretchen whispered as she watched the handsome dark-haired stranger stroll through the rose garden. She pulled her white robe around her plump stomach then harrumphed. “Very handsome.”

  Cornelia nodded. "Did you see those eyes of his?"

  "Black as soot." Nena sighed. "You know how their eyes turn red? Well, I swear I saw a little blue in his when I gave him a bath."

  “Bath?” Cornelia and Gretchen gasped in unison.

  “You are such a flirt, Nena.” Gretchen rolled her eyes. That sent the ladies into a fit of quiet giggles. "You shouldn't have been alone with him.” Her old raspy voice was that of a teacher scolding her student. "He looks dangerous. By the way he gulped down his drink earlier, he was hungry too."

  “As dangerous as he probably is, he’s in a lot of pain," Nena replied. "He lost his love and now he’s so full of sorrow. It breaks my heart. He’s probably the most interesting man I’ve ever spoken to.”

  “Nena.” Cornelia flipped her gray hair behind her shoulder. "You’ve never spoken to a man before.”

  “Yes I have!” Nena said in her full voice.

  The man glanced their way. The la
dies gasped then ducked behind the open doorway. They leaned back against the wall, all blushing wildly as they caught Anna’s stare.

  “All right, ladies.” Anna smiled wide. The three women arched their brows. "You all have guilty, rosy cheeks. What are you ladies up to?"

  “What in heaven's name are you doing on your feet?” Nena took hold of Anna’s arm and tugged. “You’re under direct orders to stay in bed.”

  Nena tried to get her to move, but Anna stood surefooted, hand on her large round belly. “I'll go back to bed when I find out what you troublemakers are looking at.”

  She leaned in the doorway to get a better look at the man. Midnight hair hung to the space between his shoulder blades. He was tall as he stood near the bench in the center of the path that led to the new mural on the wall. His skin was smooth and matched the pale rose in his hand. The way his slacks hugged his backside sent electricity through her. Whoa. The man was very well made.

  A dull ache worked through her stomach. She drew in a deep breath, refusing to give in and go to bed. She’d rather stay here and watch this magnificent man stroll through her beloved garden.

  When he faced the doorway, Anna hid behind Nena. “Oh my goodness.” Anna’s heart fluttered. She clutched Nena’s shoulders then giggled. “He’s drop dead gorgeous.”

  “He’s a handsome creature indeed.” Gretchen took hold of Anna’s arm. “Now let’s get you back to bed where you belong.”

  Anna held her ground as she peeked over Nena. “What’s his name?”

  The ladies looked at Nena for the answer.

  “Well." Nena puffed a breath through pursed lips. "I never thought to ask him.”

  Gretchen rolled her deep green eyes as the ladies scoffed in unison. “Seriously, Nena. You’re like a child sometimes.”

  Cornelia pushed off the wall. She tip-toed to Anna’s side then peeked over Nena’s other shoulder. “I think he looks like a Frank.”

  “No way,” Gretchen said in a raspy laugh as she peered over Anna’s shoulder. “He’s definitely a Clark.”

  “Like Clark Gable?” Cornelia asked in a whisper.