by Nathan Parks
“Death is coming, and it is coming for us all,” she whispered.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The Enchantress of Seduction and Darkness looked up from the dinner she was eating as she heard footsteps heading toward the large dining area. The room in which she sat was elegant, just as she ensured everything within her estate was. Beautiful chandeliers hung at either end of a long table. The table itself was well-polished and had a runner from one end to the other on which sat a beautiful set of candlesticks that had been given to her by an old lover centuries ago. She grabbed her long-stemmed glass of red wine and took a sip as she watched her current lover walk in with fury and determination.
“Denora, I see that you made it back in one piece.”
“No . . . you don’t get to talk! You get to listen!” the Demon almost shrieked as she walked straight up to Hecate, pulled out a chair, and sat down very unceremoniously. “I’m out.”
There was no immediate reaction from the goddess of sensuality. She took another long sip from her wine before picking up her knife and fork to begin cutting another bite from her rare prime rib. She slowly placed it in her mouth, enjoying the tenderness of the meat and the blend of sauce and blood. She never could understand anyone who charred their meat, taking out all the life source and flavor.
Denora knew she was playing a game. Everything Hecate did was a game. She knew that the Overlord was toying with her, and the Demon was not going to fall for it.
“You are out of what, Dear?”
“I’m not your ‘Dear.’ I am not of the House of Hecate. I am not your lackey or lieutenant.”
“Oh? Wow, I am so sorry to hear that; because I was just starting to think we had something.”
“Hecate, you never have anything but a desire to satisfy your own lust and desires. You care about only one thing, and that is yourself.”
“I have never denied that, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy extra things. When you are the best, then it means you are unable to have anything better, and so . . . well, you must settle for the leftovers.”
She looked at Denora with sheer darkness.
“And don’t believe anything less, Denora, than that you are leftovers! You are left over from a hierarchy that no longer exists. You were left over from Adramelech and from Arioch. You are just . . . well . . . left over. You are fortunate—even if you can’t see it—that I have chosen to mentor you and to bring you on.”
The Demon scoffed, “Oh well, thank you for setting me straight!”
“No, I could care less about setting you straight. I do care that you know way too much about what I am hoping to do. I do care that I sent you on a mission that you were unable to complete. I do care that you have been feeding information to a certain individual who has lived his whole life double crossing each and every being that has come his way.”
She paused for effect and to take a moment.
“Ah, I see the look that you are attempting not to reveal . . . a look that confirms the information I have been told.”
She was right. Denora was feeling the fear rise up inside her. Fear was something she rarely, if ever, felt; but now, fear crept into her like the sticky fibers of cotton candy being spun around a cardboard cone. It was growing and sticking to everything inside of her. There was no way that Michael would have told Hecate about using Denora for his own twisted coup . . . was there?
Along with the fear, anger was building, creating a deadly and volatile, emotional concoction deep inside her chest. Her mind was speeding down every crossroad of chance in an attempt to find reason and answers to what, who, when, and why?
As she sat staring back at the demonic Overlord, it was as if every warning siren began to go off inside her head. The light bulb turned on; and she knew. She didn’t move. She didn’t blink.
She looked straight into the eyes of this Queen of Manipulation and shouted out, “Come on, Nephelium! I know that you are here.”
There he was. Her mind had gone back over the last several days, and an image of the Assassin holding a knife to her throat became vividly clear. She had been correct. There in the back-left corner behind Hecate, within the shadows, stepped out the head of the Nephelium.
He began to slowly clap as he revealed himself, “Ah, Denora, Denora, Denora, you are more brilliant than Arioch ever gave you credit for.”
She shoved away from the table and stood up, hissing at him through her revealed, bared fangs, “You will die!”
“Oh, how I do love a good fight! It gets me all hot and bothered,” Hecate almost giggled.
The giggle caught the other two off guard for a moment. Neither had ever heard her make a noise that even resembled joy. Denora took full advantage of the distraction. With a quick motion, she reached over and grabbed the knife out of Hecate’s hand. She held it firmly in her right hand. Smoothly and effortlessly she placed one foot on the seat of the chair she had been sitting on and her other foot on the tabletop. She used the momentum to catapult herself over Hecate. Instead of going after the Assassin, however, to the surprise of the other two, she landed behind Hecate and, in one breath, had the blade pressed against the Overlord’s throat.
“Now, ask yourself, Hecate. Will this Half-Breed willingly sacrifice himself to save you? Will this tainted blood find you worthy of being saved, or has he used you like you have used everyone with whom you have ever come in contact?”
The lady of the house did not flinch. She did not move. She smiled. She loved games that promised bloodshed.
“No, Denora, you should ask yourself a question.”
“Oh, and what is that?”
“Do you have what it takes to spill the blood of a Clan leader? Do you really have what it takes to take on the Clan that will hunt you down and torture you in ways that will make you jealous that you never thought of the tactics first? I have no ill-conceived notion that Kadar cares about me any more than I care about him . . . or honestly, anyone.”
Kadar stood only a few feet away, watching every move that the rock star made. He knew that he had no real dog in the fight, but he also knew that Hecate was correct: to kill her would mean to bring on the wrath of her Clan. He also knew that anyone who killed a Clan leader without the backing of the Clan would be hunted down by the full force of the Fallen. Actually, usually the Nephelium were sent after them. So, maybe he could let this play out, kill Denora afterwards, and be hailed a hero.
Hecate watched as the questions ran through Kadar’s mind. She meant it when she stated she didn’t believe that he only cared about himself, but she also hoped that he would understand the value of protecting her and making her indebted to him. Then again, if he had not gutted her pet, there would be no need for anyone to get the demonic wench away from holding the blade against her neck.
“You have played too many people, Hecate. You have spent your existence twisting, manipulating, and weaving threads of individuals’ needs and desires to work for your own hunger for power. You are willing to sacrifice everything, including your son!”
Hecate’s attention snapped back to the words Denora was speaking.
“My, Son? What does Legion have to do with any of this?”
The Demon realized that she actually stood with authority and power over the most lethal and murderous Clan leader that the Fallen had ever known. It was intoxicating. She felt her mouth began to salivate. This was what power felt like.
“To answer your question, your son has everything to do with what is taking place here. You didn’t give me a chance to answer your question when I first came in. You know, the one about why I was walking away.”
“You are right. I did not, but since we are doing this little dance, feel free to answer it at any time.”
Kadar started to take a step forward but stopped when he saw Denora look up at him. Her eyes were solid black, and he could see she was in full bloodlust.
“Denora, really think about what you are about to do or say.”
“Ha!” she scoffed. “Why
? Because there is a balance that you are trying to maintain; and in that balance, you don’t want my next move to be the weight?”
“No, I just want you to really consider any and all ramifications.”
“What is she talking about, Kadar? What balance?”
Hecate turned her eyes toward the Nephelium, still refusing to move.
Kadar swallowed hard. He was still trying to figure a way to defuse this situation . . . and yes, restore balance. They each had their role, and right now Denora was way out of hers.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Kadar took a deep breath. This was not the first time he had been in a situation where he felt his back was against the wall. He really had no dog in this fight. He could walk away from all this and take the pieces and certainly still make something of it. It was what he did; but for some reason this felt different.
“Hecate, you need to know something for which I have no proof but I believe is very true.”
“Fantastic!” she answered mockingly. “Please share. I mean, who doesn’t want to hear new information when a maniac has a knife to your throat? Oh . . .” she drew out, “Denora, I also would like to know if we are going to sit here all night. I do have your replacement lying in my bed waiting for me.”
Kadar winced. He knew that Hecate was playing a game. He had no doubt that her wheels were turning. He also knew that Denora was like a rabid dog off its leash, willing to do anything for any reason at any moment.
“Hecate, Legion—or at least the part of him that was still free—is gone! The Alliance took him out.”
Fire! There it was. He knew it. Sure, by giving her that little bit of information, he was showing a hand that she was unaware was still left to be played. However, he also had taken a gamble that the information would ignite the Clan leader. His gamble paid off.
He watched as Hecate’s hands slowly gripped hard onto the armrest of the chair in which she was sitting. Her breathing became faster; her jaw was set; her eyes bulged.
“How do you know this?” she hissed.
“I was told . . .”
“Shut up, Half-Breed. You know nothing!” Denora spat.
She bent down, maintaining the pressure of the blade against Hecate’s neck.
“Don’t worry. What he thinks he knows is what everyone thinks they know, but I know the truth!”
“What is the truth, Denora?” Hecate gritted her teeth.
Very deliberately and articulately, in a controlled voice Denora whispered into her former lover’s ear, “Your son hates you. Your son sent me here. He sent me here for this!”
With no other words and no real sign of emotion, Denora pulled the blade hard and quickly across the neck of the leader of the House of Hecate. As she did, Denora opened her mouth wide and dove at the jugular vein on the side of the Overlord’s neck. She felt the rush of the hot blood spray the inside of her mouth. The taste was like nectar from the most amazing and juiciest fruit one could imagine. It flooded her senses. It poured out the corners of her mouth as she was unable to drink all of it. She could feel the warmth of it washing over her face, running down her chin, and bathing her neck. The surge of ancient knowledge rushed into the dark confines of her mind, and she shrieked in pure gluttonous delight.
Hecate never made a sound. She had heard of ancients talking about how they were connected to the threads of existence and how many had witnessed the end of another. The stories had been told that those who met their demise felt it and understood it was the end. As Denora whispered about the betrayal of Legion, Hecate knew. She saw it. There was an understanding that everything she had worked for, all the moments that she had manipulated had brought her here to her end.
Kadar felt his knees go weak and he staggered backward. This wasn’t happening! The powerful Hecate. The seductress of life itself sat feet away from him. Her head had fallen back. Her body was drenched in a crimson wash; and Denora was now standing up, attempting to wipe the copious amounts of blood from her lips and chin.
“What have you done?” Kadar managed to squeak out.
He felt like his voice mimicked that of a young child. He ran his hands through his thick, dark hair repeatedly as he rested against the wall behind him.
“You just sealed your fate and a good chance mine, as well, if anyone finds out that I was here!”
“Then I guess it is time to decide who you will follow, Half-Breed! I would hate for that bit of information to get out. Me, personally,” Denora started, standing strong and warrioresque, “I say bring it to anyone who dares cross my house!”
“What? YOUR HOUSE? You are kidding, right? The House of Hecate will never follow you!”
“Believe that, and see how that works out for you. I can promise that my despise for you has not waned; but I will also promise you that if you will join with me, I will ensure your safety.”
He could not stop looking at the depleted and lifeless soul of the former Clan leader. His mouth was like cotton. He didn’t think that Denora had it in her to actually go through with it. He had been wrong. He was rarely wrong, but this time he had been.
The Demon had come so far from just being the lead singer of “In My Darkest Hour” at the Vortex to the would-be Clan leader who now stood before him.
“What the hell . . . I am always in for a ride. So, what next, Queen of the House of Denora?”
* * * * *
Serenity felt a slight pep in her step as she saw light coming from underneath Chad’s door. She walked quicker down the hallway to knock.
As she reached his door, she heard a sound behind her. She looked in the direction of the sound, but didn’t see anything. She swore she heard children’s feet, but the twins should already be in bed. She had watched Ann tuck them in. With a quick shrug of her shoulders when she couldn’t see anything in the dimly lit hallway, she knocked on Chad’s door.
“Yeah?”
“Chad, its Serenity.”
She heard him moving around in the room and then start walking toward the door. A second later the door opened up.
“I thought you were already in bed,” he stated as he smiled and moved to the side so she could come in.
“I was, but couldn’t sleep. I kept staring at the ceiling wondering what we are missing.”
He closed the door behind her.
“Hmm . . . yeah, me too. I laid down for about 15 minutes, and then . . . well, you can see . . .”
He motioned to the papers scattered on the bed and desk, as well as to his open laptop. Serenity walked over and plopped down in the chair situated near the desk.
“What is all this?”
“This,” Chad laughed as he shuffled some papers around on the bed so he could sit on it, “is me trying to figure out that thing you think we are missing.”
She cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow in puzzlement.
“You have the piece we are missing?”
“I didn’t say that now!”
“Then I am not following.”
He shook his head, “In a very weird way, I am not, either.”
Serenity looked at him. His dirty blond hair was disheveled. He was dressed in a pair of cotton pajama pants, bare chested. She realized that when he became passionate about something, his eyes would turn almost ice blue. There was a sense of whimsical boy and yet secure man wrapped up in that being of his. True, many times he annoyed her, but that annoyance had turned from something she avoided to now something she sought out. It had become an anchor point in the chaos of their world . . . something familiar she could hook into. There was no doubt, as long as she didn’t try to be dishonest with herself, that she was attracted to him.
“So, you have a missing piece . . . are following it . . . but not following it?” She laughed. “Come on, Chad, you can do better than that.”
As she poked at him, she heard the sound of small footsteps just outside in the hall quickly going past the door. She motioned with a head nod toward the door.
“Did you h
ear that?”
“Yeah, the twins are up, I am sure.”
“They aren’t, though. I watched Ann put them to bed, and they were sound asleep in about ten minutes.”
“Meh, I don’t know. I have heard it several times tonight and just figured they were still up.” He stopped for a minute. “Actually, come to think of it, it happens many nights. I bet they wake up and sneak out. Tell me you didn’t do that as a kid.”
“No, I did. I don’t know . . . it’s just weird.”
It dawned on Chad that he had no idea why Serenity had come knocking on his door.
“What brings you here?”
“Honestly?”
“No, please, lie to me,” he snickered. “Of course, honestly!”
She felt her face start turning hot. She had laid in her bed thinking about how this would transpire if he was up and would let her in. Now, he was awake; and now she had been let in. What did she do now? She didn’t know if she had the guts to go through with what she had fantasized she would do and say.
He just sat there looking at her. She hated him right now for that. She wished he wasn’t sitting shirtless . . . wished he didn’t look so hot . . . wished he had a flaw—well, except for his not knowing when to shut up. Then again, she wished he would actually say something right now.
“I . . . I guess the deal is that you comfort me, Chad. You have grown a lot on me, and we are a great team.”
“That we are,” he quipped. “At the same time, it is because I lead this team that makes us . . .”
She looked over and saw a highlighter on the desk. She picked it up and threw it at him.
“Oh, Great Leader, I am unworthy!”
“True, but I will allow you the honor,” he laughed as he dodged the projectile.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Seriously, though, listen to me, Chad!” Serenity started again. “So, let me say this. I like you. I like you a lot, and I find myself wanting to actually be around you.”
