Falling Under

by Gwen Hayes

  My escort’s gait was smooth and he led me gracefully through the halls of the castle. The keep was both magnificent and garish. Fine furnishings and tapestries lined the corridors, yet there were macabre touches interlaced with the luxury—a crystal bowl of eyeballs, human joints lacquered into wood, portraits of death, chilling in their intensity, hanging in gilded frames.

  I had to stop looking. I kept my gaze on the floor, trusting, I suppose, that my guide would not allow me to falter. Voices grew louder as we walked, accompanied by laughter and the sound of utensils and plates. Suddenly we stopped at an archway, and all the noise diminished at our entrance.

  A banquet of splendor covered the long wooden table. Guests lined only one side; on the other there were just two table settings with empty chairs. Candelabra glowed brightly, shining on the heavy china and polished silver. Enormous fruit spilled from baskets, and pitchers of beverages glistened with condensation.

  I was led to an empty chair. The faceless man pulled out my seat while the rest of the guests whispered in hushed tones. I’d interrupted their merriment, but judging by the stillmoving entrée on a silver platter, the dinner party had just begun. My stomach curled at the sight of an animal I didn’t recognize squirming against the ropes that held it to the table. My gut wrenched even more when I met the gazes of my dinner companions. The same hideous dancers I recognized from my earlier trips Under ogled me like I was an iced cupcake in a bakery window.

  My pulse raced. I should have tried to run away before I sat down. Every nerve in my body signaled danger. The hairs on my nape rose, urging me to run. I tried to swallow, but fear clogged my throat, gagging me until I nearly choked on it.

  “Everyone, please welcome our much-honored guest, the delectable Theia.”

  I turned to the speaker at the head of the table. She was gorgeous and very, very evil. I had no doubt that under her beautiful facade she was the most dangerous of all predators. And humans were her chosen prey.

  Her onyx hair fell straight to her waist and looked shiny enough to see a reflection in. Her dark eyes pierced me while she smiled with no joy from her overly red lips. The resemblance to Haden shimmered beneath the surface. It was there, but fleeting. She was obviously his mother, but she was something quite a bit different from him.

  A rustle at the doorway brought our attention to another guest being escorted in roughly by three skeleton guards. He fought fiercely, but they dragged him in anyway.

  “Haden, what have I told you about roughhousing at the dinner table?” his mother asked.

  He brought his head up sharply, and I gasped his name.

  His eyes flashed and he stopped struggling when he saw me. He closed his eyes, as if he were in pain. “Mother, what have you done?”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Haden’s mother smiled without joy. “Now that both our guests of honor have arrived, we can begin the festivities.” She spoke each word with the confidence of someone whose every whim is catered to.

  Haden still fought to shrug off his guards, but stopped short, a new fear in his eyes. I followed his gaze to the head of the table, where his mother had picked up an imposing knife while she looked directly at me with a gleam in her eye.

  “Haden, do sit down. I’d hate for a vicious accident to happen to your fiancée.” Fiancée? When he was slow to move, she added, “She’s such a lovely, delicate young thing after all.”

  Her words, though polite and formal, were as effective as razor wire. The guards brought Haden to the table without further incident. He sat in the chair next to me but didn’t look at me, and suddenly I felt more alone than I had in the dungeon. Below the table, he reached for my hand. His fingers, strong and sure, wrapped around mine briefly, squeezing a short burst of comfort before he pulled back again.

  His message was clear. He didn’t want his mother to know how he felt about me. She was peril in a long black dress.

  “Mother, I do not wish to marry. Locking me in the dungeon didn’t change my mind; neither will parading trollops in satin in front of me.”

  She laughed then, mirthless and cruel. “We all know she’s no trollop, my darling boy. The scent of her innocence is quite invigorating. I’m sure I’m not the only one at the table interested in a tidbit of her. But we’ve saved her for you.” Her eyes darkened until no white was visible, just inky black orbs. “If you don’t want her, I can assure you she won’t go to waste. Not a single drop.”

  Coldness seeped into my pores, chilling my blood and bones, moving through my body until I choked on my icy breath. I clutched Haden’s leg under the table in terror.

  “Mother, stop.”

  At once the chill disappeared and I coughed. “What do you want?” I rasped.

  “Only my son’s happiness, pussycat.” She poured from a pitcher into a tall goblet. The liquid was deep red and thicker than wine. “My son laments his heritage, so his human feelings”—she rolled her eyes in distaste—“gobble him up from the inside. He’ll never be what he wants. You and I both know that. But I can give him the next best thing. He’ll be happy here, if he has you. So you’ll both stay.”

  “I don’t want her.” My hand was still on his thigh, and I pulled it away shyly as he spoke. “She was a diversion, nothing else. A human bride would be a mistake. She’d end up just like my pitiful father.”

  The words were ugly and his tone sharp, cutting my heart even as I told myself he was lying. He didn’t mean it. He couldn’t. He was just trying to throw his mother off track.

  I hoped.

  His mother scowled at the reminder. “Your father was weak. He could have been a king, but instead he chose to be a martyr.”

  “My father had very few choices, but that is beside the point. I’m too young for marriage and I don’t want a human. They’re—” He shuddered. “They’re messy. All their emotions sour my stomach.”

  I blinked back the tears. I was supposed to not want to be wanted by him, but I’m afraid I wasn’t putting on a very believable show. Messy was right.

  The dark mistress regarded him ruefully while she tapped her bloodred nails on the table. “Your stomach doesn’t concern me, Haden. Your lack of accountability to this realm does. You are heir to its entirety. It’s past time you stopped wishing on stars and mooning over insignificant matters of your human heart.” She sipped her beverage and watched me closely. “Theia, I’ve been remiss in my manners. You should have taken me to task for not introducing myself to you. My name is Mara. I’m Haden’s mother, of course. Since we’re to be family, it would please me if you also called me Mother.” She paused. “I see from your expression that would make you unhappy. No doubt you miss your own mother very much. Very well, call me Mara.”

  “Never say her name out loud,” Haden warned me. “Names have power here. You don’t want to give up any of yours to her.”

  Again Mara laughed. Her vulgar enjoyment of my naïveté washed over me. There were no safe places to step in this world. Every footfall provided me another chance to fall flat on my face or worse. I fingered my mother’s pendant—my amulet now—as it seemed the only thing I had anchoring me to reality. The stone seemed alive under my hands.

  “Tell me again how she means nothing to you, Haden.”

  “I’m not going to marry her, Mother.”

  “Then we’ve had a change of menu, son. Tomorrow we’ll pick you a new one. And we will continue to eat your rejects until you’ve bred an heir and taken your rightful place as Prince of this realm.” Mara’s eyes glittered with malice and she licked her lips as she stared at me. “Pussycat, the smell of your fear mixed with innocence makes you the most delectable morsel we’ve had in long, long time.” She snapped her fingers at the skeleton sentry guarding the door.

  Haden shot out of his chair. “You won’t touch her!”

  “Then you’ll have to.” She nodded to the guards to back off.

  “I don’t need to feed.” Haden’s fingers raked through his hair. “I don’t want to feed. Just put me
back in the dungeon and let Theia return home.”

  “You may not need to take human essence to survive, but you’ll always crave it.” Mara dabbed the corners of her wide mouth with a napkin. “I see I’ve spoiled you. Can’t you be gracious enough to thank me? I saw what you really wanted, Haden, and I’ve brought her to you—gift-wrapped, no less. Do you think she looked that good when we plucked her from her world? She may have been appetizing before, but you can’t argue she’s succulent now.” She stood, holding her drink aloft. “Guests, please join me in a toast to the bride and groom.” The ghouls raised their glasses, their bulging eyes and misshapen faces more hideous when portraying their elation. “To Haden and Theia. May you always be as happy as you are at this very moment.”

  The guests cheered, Haden slumped back into his chair, and I burst into tears.

  As the revelry faded, footmen brought tureens of soup to the table. My stomach growled at the smell of food, but Haden put a stilling hand on my wrist when I reached for my spoon.

  “Haden, I’m starving. I can’t remember the last time I ate. You may not need to feed, but I do.”

  He squeezed my wrist tighter until I dropped the spoon. “Trust me—you don’t want to eat that.”

  He signaled one of the footmen over and whispered something in his ear—well, where his ear should have been if he’d had one. He took our soup and returned to the kitchen.

  My tears hadn’t stopped, no matter how hard I tried to still them. Every emotion I’d ever had was close to the surface, ready to spill out. I was hungry and tired and had no idea whether I would live to see another day. The boy I loved sat like a stranger next to me, and I wasn’t sure yet if we were already considered married just because Mara said so.

  The faceless footman reappeared and placed a domecovered plate between us. He lifted the lid and I began crying anew. A stack of bread and a jar each of jelly and peanut butter were placed artfully on the platter, along with two butter knives.

  “Thank you,” I said the servant. And then to Haden as well.

  “You’re in quite a mess because of me, Theia. PB&J won’t get us out of it.”

  I had already slathered peanut butter on a slice of bread and taken a bite by then, so I just nodded. I didn’t think anything had ever tasted so good. I swallowed greedily and spoke. “We can make the best of it, can’t we?”

  “There is no best of it here.” He sighed. “Are you going to let me have one of those?”

  “Make your own,” I answered.

  He chuckled at that, and while he made his sandwich, I knew he was wrong. We could make the best of it. I just hoped we could maybe do it someplace else.

  When it came time for the main course, I set my gaze on the strange animal that still writhed on the table. All the other guests picked up sharp knives and looked eagerly at the still-breathing entrée. Bile rose and I wished I hadn’t eaten the sandwiches. Sensing my distress, Haden asked if we could be excused.

  “Eager to begin your honeymoon?” Mara arched a brow. “How sweet. I’ve prepared the bridal suite.” She formed a sinful smile. “You should both enjoy it very much.”

  Haden blushed. “I’d rather hoped to begin our marriage in my own—rather, our—room.”

  “Tonight you shall stay in the bridal suite. I want to make sure I get a grandchild soon.”

  I shuddered. A child? She wants us to have children already? “Are we already married?” I asked.

  “Weddings are different here, pussycat. You’ll have a bonding ceremony after you’re proven fertile.”

  Without thought, I reached for my amulet again. The stone felt warm against my palm. I let myself imagine, for only a second, that my own mother was there, watching over me.

  The familiar sounds of clicking and scraping heralded the arrival of our escorts made of bones. This time they didn’t manhandle either of us, so long as we went where we were bidden. Haden held my hand as we slowly made our way back to the room where I’d been bathed. As the lock clicked into place, fine mauve dust fell from the ceiling and turned into a fog that ribboned around us and throughout the room.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  “My mother’s insurance,” Haden answered, dropping my hand and stalking to the window. “It’s a spell.”

  “What kind of spell?”

  “One she hopes will work better than the Lure. It’s an aphrodisiac vapor.”

  “Oh.” Understanding flitted across my addled brain. “Oh,” I said with more emphasis. “How long before the spell begins working?”

  He raked both hands through his thick dark hair once again. The locks fell into a disheveled and inviting mess. “Not very long. I’m very sorry that I didn’t protect you better, Theia. All of this is my fault.”

  “Why does she want you to take a human bride so badly?”

  Haden looked at me, the weight of the world on his shoulders and reflected in his eyes. “Demons can’t reproduce. We can only create life from your kind. Vampires make other vampires by taking a human—some demons can impregnate humans. Not all, thankfully, or demons would overpopulate.”

  I ached to ease his burden. He carried so much guilt for simply being born. I knew how that felt.

  He continued, “My mother is especially fascinated by human beings, but she’s also jealous—all demons are, really.”

  “Why?”

  “Humans are the chosen ones.”

  I shook my head. “What does that mean . . . chosen ones?”

  “You have souls,” he answered with a reverence in his voice that jolted me. “Demons covet humanity because you have souls,” he repeated. His jaw tightened and he pressed his lips together firmly, like he was holding something back. “It makes us yearn for you. It’s why we crave humans and take your essence, your blood, your lives . . . but we can never get what we need . . . what we desire most.”

  His words made the hollows in my heart ache. I’d never given much thought to having a soul before.

  “You—your kind, your mother’s kind—take souls, don’t you? That’s what essence is?”

  “I don’t need to, not for survival, because I’m also human. My mother is more gluttonous than she needs to be, but even draining someone else’s soul doesn’t give her one. Theia, a human soul is the most beautiful, most desirable, the most . . . everything.”

  “And you don’t think you have a soul?”

  His expression softened again. “I doubt very much that I do.”

  “You are half-human, Haden.”

  He shook his head, not wanting to discuss it now. “My mother, she pretends to hate humans, yet she spent many men’s lives trying to conceive me. This place, the way she runs things, is a testament to her desire to emulate your world.”

  “This place is nothing like my world.”

  “Oh, I know. I know better than most.” Haden’s voice had a bitter edge. “I’ve spent most of my life focused on the differences between the two. Humans are her playthings. She likes to play with their minds, dig into their psyches and see what she can pull out.”

  I thought of the sewn-together women and knew she’d done that to them. An experiment. They were her dolls.

  “Now you understand why I don’t want you here, lamb. Under is the origin, the birthplace, of nightmares. Every night terror a human has experienced was pulled from this place. And my mother is the ringmaster of your bad dreams. Even if I get you back . . . I don’t know how or why you were able to freely travel back and forth before, but she’ll find a way to keep you if she can. I can block your deepest sleep only so much. You’re far too vulnerable.”

  Even while I focused on his chilling words, I could feel something else happening inside me. My body felt slower. Even blinking became a sultry, languid movement.

  A new responsiveness hummed along my nerve endings when his look darkened slightly. My tongue dipped out to wet my lips, and he looked away quickly, stifling a small groan.

  The spell was beginning to work. And not just on me.

>   Taking a few steadying breaths only intensified my awareness of my chest, the way the gown magically pushed my breasts up and out instead of my usual preference to minimize and hide. They felt tight and tingly pressed up against the fabric. Turning away from Haden so he wouldn’t see the flush of my skin, I found myself staring at my reflection in a large mirror. Once again, my mirror image startled me with its unrecognizable likeness. The girl staring back at me was no girl at all. She was a woman, with womanly secrets and needs and desires I’d never understood before. My skin took on a rosy glow, my hair had loosened enough from the updo to look as if I’d already tussled on the big bed, and my eyes shimmered with intensity.

  Behind me, Haden raised his head and our eyes met in the reflection. The familiar beat of his heart charmed mine into synchronicity. Time coasted, not really standing still but no longer on the same plane as the rest of the world. Haden swallowed hard and his nostrils flared just a touch.

  His gaze traveled slowly to my chest, framed like a gift in red satin. He met my eyes again. They pierced me with a look of hunger. His breath unsteady now, he fought the effects of the spell. I could tell by the way he clenched his hands into fists over and over. Clench, release, clench, release.

  I imagined what it would feel like if he touched me right now. My skin felt so hot, I suspected it would burn him. But we’d been burning for each other since we’d met, and I craved to succumb to combustion in his arms, under his hands.

  The corners of my mind rounded, softening away thoughts that tried to intrude on the lovely, fluid feelings that had taken over. Haden crossed the room in a daze, stopping just behind me. I stood as still as stone, holding my breath, waiting for the electric moment when he would finally touch me. He brought his shaky hands to my shoulder, only an inch from my skin. I expelled my held breath and panted softly.

  A faraway voice—my own, I think—warned me away from him. Move away, put distance between you, fight the dark magic.

  I could have just as easily held off a tidal wave with an umbrella.