Laird of the Underworld : Book 1

by Verna Cyril

  Genevieve exhaled. She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath.

  “So is the land of the Crinamortes a safe territory to walk through?”, she asked.

  Tanya was already shaking her head in disapproval. “The Crinamortes and the Dunkans have learned to tolerate each other because of the legislation that was passed at the Council. However, this does not avoid bloodshed.”

  Genevieve shuddered. Although she was worried, she knew she had to go through the border before nightfall, and unfortunately by foot. Since she hadn’t the slightest idea how to shapeshift.

  “I think it’s time we returned to the pack. It is getting pretty late.”

  Genevieve smiled lopsidedly. “Thank you, Tanya. I have had a pleasant day because of you.”

  Tanya beamed: “Oh, it was a pleasure, my lady, umm.”

  “No,” Genevieve interrupted her.” It’s ok. I have just one last request.”

  “Anything for you, my lady,” Tanya replied excitedly. She was honoured to serve her lord and if serving her lord meant keeping his new bride happy. This is what she would do.

  Genevieve flashed her an appreciative smile. “Is it possible that I remain at the lake a little while longer alone? Just really need some time to clear my head”.

  Tanya’s countenance was now a chalky pallor. “But Lord Alaric won’t be pleased, especially Lady Katherine would be very disappointed. She has left you in my care.”

  Genevieve sulk.

  Tanya shifted from one foot to the other uneasily. Silence hung heavily in the air. “Ok, my lady. I will leave you alone for thirty minutes. If you are not back by then, I will come to find you.”

  Genevieve gasped with sheer amusement. “Oh, thank you so much, Tanya. You don’t know how much this means to me.” A solitary tear ran down Genevieve’s cheeks. Not because of Tanya’s offer to help her but because she may have lost the only true friend she may have ever known.

  Chapter ten

  Her breathing was heavy; too loud to remain focused. Her head was exploding from another one of those damn migraines. Breathe, Genevieve, Breathe, she pleaded with herself as she bolted through the wild forest. She stopped, hands on her knees with burning lungs. Genevieve glanced around her nervously. She was absolutely sure that she had kept to the trail; however, now she somewhat doubted herself. The afternoon sun slipped past the horizon, and sadly darkness threatened to loom over the forest. She continued moving at a brisk pace, also careful to cover her tracks. She had tried to keep her emotions in check and her thoughts clear, doing her best to keep a fixed barrier between her thoughts and Alaric. She really didn’t wish for him to find her. Her decision was made, she had to find her father. Maybe then he could give her the answers to the questions that now weighed heavily on her mind. So many questions, like had he really consented for her to have a life-long commitment to Alaric? Was this truly her father’s wish? Did he really make that covenant, or was this a forced decision? Was he ever worried about her? Why hadn’t he come looking for her?

  Hurt, Genevieve’s throat tightened from suppressed tears. Pull yourself together, Genevieve. She chastised herself as her eyes brimmed with unwanted tears. So disturbed was she, she nearly stumbled over a rock. She whimpered then briefly paused her journey to wipe her tears and reorganized her thoughts. Tanya’s words reverberated through her mind. Vulnerability allows your thoughts to be projected. Vampires feast on your weaknesses and sense your fear. She drew a shaky breath. She had no intention of gaining attention. After all, she was in the middle of nowhere; on land which was occupied by her husband’s enemies.

  A shuffling sound in the bushes nearby immediately drew her attention. Genevieve looked over her shoulder in terror, glancing at the area with her heart racing. The sun was already down and she was confident that it would be pitch dark in a few minutes. “Come on, Genevieve!”, she whispered, “you are going to be ok.” She continued to reassure herself between deep breaths. The shuffling sound was closer. Genevieve scanned the area. Nothing, she thought bitterly, then helplessly broke into tears, unaware now whether she was getting closer to or further from her destination. Tears flowed down her cheeks freely as she tried desperately to brush them away. She continued her pace, moving swiftly through the night. “Oh no!”, she yelped as she missed her footing and helplessly began to roll down a hill. Her piercing screams echoed through the trees as she blindly tried to grab onto a few short branches to break her fall. The wind continued to carry her fearful cries through the dark forest as she reached closer to the flat of the hill. “Ouch” she cried out as a blinding pain seized her at the inexplicable jarring she received to the head. The ugly claws of death are now scratching at my door, she thought as she reluctantly accepted her fate. It was now inevitable, she continued. Genevieve groaned at the feel of her blood trickling down her forehead. She closed her eyes then breathed. This is it, she thought, releasing a shaky breath and finally giving in, allowing the darkness to swallow her into a black hole of oblivion.

  Genevieve woke up to beeping sounds. Was she dead, was she in heaven? She grunted in agony as she strained to listen to the humming of voices floating over her. Slowly, she opened her eyes with heavy eyelids. Groaning, she closed her eyes, then slowly fluttered them open again. In a daze, she noticed that she was in a room with the colour white dancing over her and a cold hand at her wrist. She flinched. The voice was vague, but sounded stern. Was this Alaric? She frowned, fighting to keep her eyes open. She squeezed them shut, nearly screaming. The light was unbearable.

  “Hello, dear.” the melodic voice of a woman reached her ears over the continued beeping sound over the monitor near her head. Genevieve attempted to swallow. Her throat was parched, “Can you hear me?”, the sweet voice continued.

  Genevieve opened her mouth again and responded in a throaty whisper, “Where am I?”. She blinked.

  A plump brown-skinned woman hovered over her, with beautiful braids in a tight bun over her head. A warm smile tugged the corners of her mouth. “My name is Charlotte, your attending nurse,” the woman replied cheerfully. “You are at a hospital and have been in intensive care for nearly two days now.”

  Genevieve gasped then winced, as her throat pricked.

  “Relax, it’s ok,” the woman cooed. “The oxygen may have irritated your throat. I will get you a tad of water, sweetheart.”

  Genevieve tried to nod her head but winced instead. After a few gulps, she tried to sit up. To her amazement, she couldn’t. Wires were attached to her in every direction. She sobbed

  “Shh...shh., relax, it’s going to be ok,” The warm voice soothed her like honey. However, Genevieve wanted to be free. She had to find her father.

  She began whimpering. The monitor began to beep even louder than usual. By now the lady named Charlotte was already approaching her. She pulled out a needle from her pocket and injected it into Genevieve’s IV.

  “ No, no...” Genevieve whispered, writhing. “My father, please...call my father...”, she trailed off, drifting into a slumber.

  Genevieve was awakened again by a deep rumbling sound. The voice was terse and harsh.

  A woman replied timidly: “Sir, we are trying our best to stabilize Mrs. Dunkan's condition. Unfortunately, somehow yesterday her blood pressure took off. This is what the report says here.”

  “I don’t care, you will sign a release form this instant!”, the familiar voice returned coldly. “Do you want to get fired? Do you want to keep your job? I said to sign that damn release form. She is my wife!”. Genevieve flinched trying hard to open her eyes.

  “But what about the police report, sir?. Mrs. Dunkan was left to die in the streets. Thank God, she was picked up by a kind Samaritan,” the frail voice continued. “Sir, please reconsider. She must remain in our care to be monitored.”

  Genevieve finally opened her eyes to find amber coloured eyes scorching her.

  A chestnut colour haired female physician stood next to Alaric. Her scrawny fingers were white from clutching her medi
cal board. Her soft brown eyes lingered over the medical form with a small frown tugging her shapely brows.

  Genevieve winced. She felt like a vegetable, Useless! she groaned inwardly.

  Sensing her irritability, Alaric closed the distance between them. At the scent of his cologne, her nostrils flared as she shamelessly immersed herself into his unique smell.

  “Sweetheart,” he slurred with irony, eyes narrowed into slits with anger.

  Genevieve returned his stare blankly as he sat on the chair next to her bed. He was dressed in another one of those lavish business suits.

  “I have been searching for you,” his eyes roamed over her face, then stopped on a painful looking bruise above her left eye, then slowly moved to a tiny split on her lower lip. He groaned and pointed out in frustration: “You are hurt, luckily you were not found dead,” He reached out and gathered his young wife into his arms.

  “Get this damn thing off my wife”, he glanced over his shoulder at the doctor in waiting.

  The woman took a step back in alarm then quickly began to follow instructions. Two uniformed officers carrying firearms stormed into the room in that instant.

  Alaric brushed his lips against Genevieve's wrist, then stood up from the bed. He turned around to face the officers approaching him. Slit-eyed, he turned his attention to the now pale looking physician on the opposite side of Genevieve. “Are you responsible for this?”

  The woman did not return his stare. She was obviously intimidated.

  Alaric continued: “Do you think I am some kind of monster to beat my wife and leave her to die on the street?”

  Genevieve gulped, she could sense Alaric’s rising temper. “Doctor, I can explain. I ran away from my husband and it’s not because he beat me. It’s because…,” eyes drifting to Alaric’s now dark countenance, she continued. “It’s because…” she trailed off.

  Alaric’s gaze moved to the invaders in the room. Seething with mad fury, he pointed at the door yelling. “Get out!.”

  The officers exchanged glances then pinned Alaric with a frown of disapproval. Alaric chuckled inwardly. “Do you know who I am?” he didn’t await their response. “Just one call,” he lifted his index finger to emphasize his point. “One, and I can get you both fired,” Briefly, the officers looked at each other, then shifted from one foot to the other.

  Impatiently Alaric gritted. “Now, I said to get the hell out of my damn building.”

  Apprehensively, the officers turned to leave with a nod of their head.

  Alaric’s gaze drifted to Dr. Rupert who was now nervously wringing her hands.

  Dr. Rupert gulped, then moved speedily to get the machines off Genevieve. Shortly after, she handed Alaric the release form, throwing Genevieve a sideways glance. Shoulders slumped, she turned on her heels in silence and exited the room.

  Alaric immediately turned to his wife and lifted her into his arms. She is light as a feather, he noted painfully with a lump in the back of his throat. Angrily, he strode past Dr. Rupert in the waiting room. The eyes of visitors and staff were glued to them as he took giant steps down the hallway. He didn’t stop until he reached the front lobby.

  Feeling faint, Genevieve closed her eyes then re-opened them. She was placed into a fancy car. With heavy eyelids, she watched Alaric slide in next to her. He ordered on the intercom that the window be pulled up for privacy. Genevieve fought sleep, but eventually dozed off. When she finally awoke, she was somewhere new. On a bed?, she thought, but where?

  “You are at one of my penthouses,” Alaric’s voice rumbled on the opposite side of the room. Genevieve gasped, then rolled over to look at him. He stood looking out of the window with his back turned to her, dominating everything, an obvious air of power surrounding him. He was wearing white Chinos and a long sleeved light blue shirt rolled at the elbow. His hands were tucked inside his pockets. Genevieve groaned, burying her face in one of the pillows. Why must he always look so irresistible? She sighed loudly, then lifted her head just in time to witness him pulling off his sunglasses to look into her eyes. Genevieve’s heart leaped and her cheeks glowed a crimson red as he approached her. Oh no. She looked away again and tried desperately to keep her thoughts at bay.

  Alaric arched an eyebrow, stabbing a finger at her. “I will have you know, wife, that you can’t hide from me. Especially not your thoughts”, he warned softly.

  Genevieve tensed, then drew her eyes back to his stony features.

  Alaric stopped at the foot of the bed, his amber eyes now a shade of emerald. His expression brewed with anger. “Was putting your life in danger an adventure?”

  Genevieve inhaled sharply, then shook her head in denial. Did he think her suicidal? she thought. Maybe desperate, but definitely not suicidal. Her eyes searched his grim features. Nervously, she drew a shaky breath, although she was thankful for being alive, she wished he’d never found her.

  Alaric towered her. “Did it amuse you to break the trust of Tanya?” A formidable scowl creased his brow. “Or does it fancy you to create a scene at my workplace?”, he drawled sarcastically then folded his arms.

  Genevieve scoffed, how dare he?, suddenly upset. She returned in disdain, “I ?” then looked into his eyes boldly. “I should have told the police everything.”

  Alaric drew back, his eyes narrowed into slits. “I knew it, you don’t care, you never cared if your little plot backfired and made headline news!”

  Genevieve; flinched. Really?, she thought bitterly. Was this confrontation about his stupid career? Hurt and near breaking point, she cleared her throat looking past him at the white washed wall. She returned rather stiffly: “Well, I am sorry. The next time I will just check in at a more convenient building,” then screamed: “while I am dying!”

  Alaric clamped his jaw then returned brutally: “Is this some kind of sick joke to you?”

  Genevieve was beyond rage. Gasping, she curled her hands into fists. All he cared about was himself. He never once thought about the fact that she did all this because of his overbearing nature. “Get out!”, she seethed, inhaling deeply.

  Alaric chortled, hands on his hips. His eyes brewing with anger:“Excuse me?”

  Genevieve pointed at the door yelling: “Out!”

  Alaric was speechless. Gritting his teeth, he stormed towards the door and jerked it open. He stopped, then looked over his shoulder. His glare was enough to send chills down Genevieve’s spine. She kept his deadly gaze then waited for him to leave. Flinching, as he slammed the door.

  Although disturbing, Genevieve drank Alaric’s blood twice after her release from the hospital. She had never felt so energized before. Her transition phase had faded and slowly she was learning the ways of a vampire. Alaric had also returned to the city with her, their abode was another luxurious suite near his workplace. They had not spoken much after their argument at the penthouse suite. Neither did Alaric ever care to question her about what had happened. The media was abuzz with stories of him and his abusive nature with his new bride. Genevieve felt terrible knowing that her behaviour not only blackened his reputation but also threatened to destroy him. Their personal life had become the next hot topic on social media. Thank god, there were no photos of her but poor Alaric had to continually face the dreadful remarks from the press daily. With him at work busy trying to solve the problem she had created, Genevieve took the opportunity again to secretly pursue her father. As time moved along she had learnt the ability to shapeshift to short distances. The desire to lurk into dark places was intensifying. Since Alaric’s schedule was pretty much the same everyday, she would venture out a bit. He had given his chauffeur instructions to take her wherever she desired. With one of his cards at her expense and cash in her pocket. Genevieve sometimes took the opportunity to go shopping or have lunch out.

  That morning, she decided to visit her old hometown. She had somehow managed to get Freddy, the driver, a kindhearted African American man with a contagious smile. She stared at her old home from the car window. It looke
d like it had been abandoned for years. Although it had only been three months since she was taken away.

  “Freddy, I am going to go stretch my legs. Please don’t bother to wait for me, I will call you when I am ready to leave”. At the man’s disapproving glare Genevieve continued: “Don’t worry, I do that all the time. Alaric is aware of my usual visits to my home.”

  Freddy gave a curt nod. “Ok, great, I will call you in two hours if I don’t hear from you. Please keep your mobile at hand.”

  With a dashing smile, Genevieve gave her handbag a reassuring pat: “Sure.” She felt terrible lying to Freddy but she couldn’t have him keeping tabs on her. She waved at the moving vehicle and nostalgically turned to face her old home from across the street. Images of her mother’s beautiful smile and thoughts of her childhood resurfaced in her memory. She took deep relaxing breaths as she crossed the street and entered the yard. The flower garden was untouched, weeds threatened to choke the beautiful beds of Forget-me- not. Slowly, Genevieve climbed up the porch and stopped at the door. Heart racing, she wondered what had changed. Eagerly, she turned the door knob and gasped, the door was open. She let out a sigh of relief and entered the room with a heavy heart. Most of the furniture was missing and there was a lot of graffiti on the walls. Genevieve’s eyes darted across the room in confusion. The place looked like no one had lived there for years. Where is father?

  “Father?”, Genevieve cried out in frustration as she ran up the creaky staircase to their rooms. She ran to her parents’ old room. Empty. Everything was packed into big brown boxes. The furniture was gone. It was like someone was preparing to move in or could it be that her father was planning to move out? She chewed on her lower lip in thought, then dashed over to her old room. It was the same. Her bed was neatly done, her teddies were there. It was like her room had never been touched. What was going on here?, she questioned herself.