Enthrall

by Sandra R Neeley

  Enthrall’s miserable face lifted from where he watched Felicity endlessly, and he looked at Mamaie as though she was insane. “How is this well?” he shouted incredulously.

  “She lives, Enthrall. When you arrived here with her in your arms, I thought there was no hope. You saved her.”

  Enthrall looked down at Felicity. Watched the rise and fall of her chest. Saw the movement of her eyes flickering beneath her closed eyelids, felt the warmth of her hand in his. Mamaie was right. He’d saved her. But he’d changed her. The question now was, would she ever forgive him?

  Mamaie helped Enthrall get Felicity cleaned up as best they could while she lay on the table. When they’d done all they could, Mamaie stood back and watched Felicity. She was becoming more and more alert, and her color was returning. “You should take her to your room, Enthrall. Make her comfortable.”

  Enthrall looked down at Felicity, and his jaws clenched. “I want to rip the male apart.”

  “I know. But he will get his due. Felicity is more important than vengeance, and your friend will see to that for you. Focus your energy on Felicity.”

  Enthrall gathered her gently in his arms, holding her close as he moved carefully toward the door leading out of the kitchen.

  As soon as he was gone, Mamaie placed her hand over her own heart and closed her eyes, lifting her face to the ceiling. “If it’s not too late already, grant the little soul strength to survive all he is about to endure,” she whispered.

  An unexpected voice rumbled from the other side of the room, startling her. “What little soul?”

  Mamaie spun to confront the eavesdropping party and found Murder standing there, watching her curiously.

  “I’d forgotten you were here. Your kind is far too quiet.”

  Murder watched her dispassionately. “What little soul?” he asked again.

  Mamaie knew that she’d given away far too much though it was truly an accident. She sighed and bent to pick up one of the broken dishes she’d swept from the table to make a place for Enthrall to lay Felicity, hoping Murder would let it go. He didn’t.

  “Old woman…”

  “We know nothing for sure. We only suspected,” she answered cryptically without facing him.

  “Suspected what?” Murder asked.

  Mamaie gave up, turning to face him. “We suspected that Felicity is with child. Enthrall’s child.” She glared at him, daring him to say more.

  When he said nothing, the surprise evident on his face, Mamaie went back to cleaning the kitchen, getting the blood off the floor, and picking up all the dishes and food she’d swept to the floor when they needed the table for Felicity. She was surprised when a large black hand appeared in her line of view, helping her clean the mess. She glanced up at the Gargoyle on his knees beside her. She watched him picking up the fragments of broken dishes for a few moments before nodding at him. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he rumbled back at her in that deep, deep voice of his.

  “She’s alive. Everything else is just details,” Mamaie said.

  “Until he realizes he may have just taken the life of his own child,” Murder answered.

  “Is there not a chance for an unborn child to survive the change?” Mamaie asked.

  Murder stopped cleaning and sat back on his heels regarding her thoughtfully. “I don’t know. I’ve never heard of a pregnant woman being turned.”

  <<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

  Enthrall went to his bedroom and laid Felicity across the foot of his bed. He undressed her, and soaked a wash cloth folded neatly on top of his dresser with warm water in his wash basin. He used the cloth to remove as much dried blood as he could from Felicity before pulling one of his shirts from his dresser. He slipped the shirt on her, then pulled the covers back. He fluffed the pillow, then lifted her from the foot of the bed and laid her, with her head resting on his pillow, in his bed. He covered her and tucked her in tightly.

  Enthrall caught sight of his own hands while he was tucking her in and realized that he was covered in dried blood as well. He poured more water into the wash basin and dunked the wash cloth in it several times to rinse it out. Then he stripped off his own clothes and went to work trying to clean himself as best he could. He slipped on a pair of undershorts and a pair of pajama pants and called it good. He needed a bath, but he wasn’t willing to leave Felicity alone long enough to take one. Satisfied that he’d done the best he could for the moment, he retrieved a chair from his writing desk and placed it beside the bed, preparing to watch over her until she woke.

  Some hours later Enthrall woke with a start, slight noises having roused him. He looked around the room and realized that he wasn’t alone.

  “How long have you been here?” Enthrall asked.

  There was silence for a full minute before finally a voice answered. “Just long enough to get comfortable.”

  Enthrall only nodded, then stood from the chair he sat in to check on Felicity. It had been no more than a couple of hours, but he’d obviously been exhausted. And knowing that he was assured of safety in this house, he’d allowed himself to fall asleep with his head resting on the bed. And that must have been when Shane slipped in.

  “Why don’t you come out from there. Come lay beside Felicity, get some rest.”

  There was a scurrying sound while Shane climbed out from under the desk. He slowly made his way over to Enthrall where he stood, waiting for Enthrall to speak.

  “Why were you under the desk?”

  Shane shrugged. “I wasn’t sure I should be in here.”

  “Then why did you come?” Enthrall asked.

  “Because you’re my family.”

  Enthrall watched the boy closely. “Even after all you’ve seen, you still want me to be your family?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You don’t fear me?” Enthrall asked, surprised.

  “No, sir. You were the same when you came to find me, right?”

  “I was.”

  “Then nothing’s different,” Shane said simply.

  Enthrall reached out and gently pulled the boy in for a hug. He didn’t speak, he just hugged the boy. And Shane hugged him. He had no idea how much he’d just healed Enthrall’s heart by simply accepting him as he was.

  “Is it okay if I stay in here? You might need me.”

  Enthrall sat back smiling. “I do need you. Please stay.”

  Shane sat in the chair with Enthrall, watching Felicity sleep. “When is she gonna wake up?” he finally asked.

  “I’m not sure. When she does, she may be a little upset, though. So, if I ask you to give us some time, it’s not because I don’t want you. It’s because I have to calm her, okay?”

  “I understand. I’ll go see what Mamaie has to eat if you need me to go for a little while.”

  “Good boy,” Enthrall answered.

  Enthrall and his son sat together and waited for Felicity to wake. Each more thankful than they could ever express for the other.

  <<<<<<<>>>>>>>

  Lore’s mists moved up and down the corridors of the third floor of the hospital. He finally found what he searched for when he heard the angry musings of a man behind a closed door and sensed the unrest of a mind driven to the very edge, then tipped over it.

  Lore became corporeal enough to knock on the door. He did so love to toy with his targets.

  A man’s voice called out, “Go away! We don’t need anything at all!”

  Lore smiled. No, they may not need, but he certainly did. He pitched his voice high to imitate a woman’s and laughed maniacally before sing-songing, “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” His body dissipated, and his mists moved beneath the crack in the door.

  When his mists swirled together to give him shape, the man standing across the room from him wore a terrified expression and brandished a knife in Lore’s direction.

  Lore laughed. “Oh, fun, fun! I do so hate it when you humans just curl up and cry. You know, like a female, being beaten relentlessly.”
Lore’s expression went from amused and delighted to furious as he nearly growled the last words as he spat them out.

  “Leave us, spectre!” the man shouted and crossed himself.

  “Why does everyone think I’m a spectre? For gods sakes,” he looked down at himself, his body a swirling mass. “I don’t even look like a spectre! Ancient! I’m an Ancient! Why is that so hard to see?”

  The man was beginning to back up, his head shaking back and forth rapidly as he tried to remove himself from between his brother and Lore.

  “Ahhh, and I see you offer your brother, rather than yourself. What a brave thing to do,” Lore spat, a disgusted look crossing his features.

  “Leave us!” the man shouted. “You shouldn’t be here among God fearing folk!”

  Lore cocked his head to the side. “Do you fear the gods? Any of them?”

  “There is but one! And all that fear him are saved.”

  Lore laughed. “That is where you are wrong. There is more than one. But, that is neither here nor there. Pick one. Any one. And pray that you are received well. You’re about to meet him.”

  The man started muttering and eyeing the door behind Lore, shuffling his body toward the wall at his left so that he could see the window behind himself, even the window a considered avenue of escape.

  “Nope! Wrong one!” Lore announced. “Try again!”

  “What do you mean wrong one?”

  “The god you are mumbling to. He’s the wrong one. Try me. You should beg me for forgiveness.”

  “You’re not a god!” the man shouted.

  Lore’s head shot back, as though he’d been slapped, and a look of confusion crossed his face. “Are you sure?” he asked, feigning worry. “When I left home this morning, I was a god. Am I not, now?” Lore raised his hands to his face, the mists of both swirling as his hands patted his translucent purple cheeks.

  “I remember, now. I decided that rather than be a god today, I’d be the harbinger of justice. And you, dear boy, are due a heavy hand of justice.”

  “I’ve done nothing wrong! I’ve been here with my brother all evening!”

  “Is that so?”

  “It is!”

  “Even when you beat his wife?”

  “I… It… He did it!” Darren declared, pointing at his completely infirm brother.

  “And what about the man who nearly murdered my brother’s wife? He nearly sliced her throat in two. Could that have been you? Or was it again, your brother?” Lore demanded.

  “I don’t know what you speak of! I’ve harmed no woman at all. Not ever. There is no reason for a harbinger of justice here. You have the wrong people, the wrong room. Leave us!”

  Lore took several steps in Darren’s direction, stopping to click his heels and spin in a circle. As he came out of the circle, he jumped at Darren and shouted, “Boo.”

  Darren screamed and jumped back, losing his balance.

  Lore was on him in a split second, his hands squeezing Darren’s head, his foot on Darren’s back to keep him pinned to the ground. “You know, I believe you are correct. No need for the harbinger of justice here today. Rather I will be the bringer of death.”

  Darren whimpered.

  “Oh, but don’t you cry. No worries now. I shan’t take just your life. I’ll take your soul. And that of your brother, too. You see, I eat souls. Nooooo, no food for me. Just souls. The darker the better, and lucky for me, you both fit that description.”

  Lore began to crack the skull of the man he’d suitably terrified and suck the soul from the body. It took no time at all, really. And once he was done, he turned to the brother who was lying in his hospital bed completely oblivious to all that had occurred before his own eyes.

  Lore made quick work of him as well. Then paused once more to look back at the two dried husks of once human bodies left littering the hospital room. He caught a glimpse of himself in the shiny surface of the highly polished floor. His head cocked to the side once more as he regarded himself.

  A deep crease appeared between his eyes as he leaned over to peer closer. “Spectre indeed. I do not look like a spectre.”

  Then his mists swirled, and he was gone.

  Chapter 23

  Murder sat at the kitchen table. Mamaie across from him, asking him question, after question, after question, as he ate everything she placed in front of him. He did love good food.

  “Mamaie. I’ve told you. I only know about my own kind. My knowledge of all the other species is limited.”

  “You could at least venture a guess.”

  “How would I know how a Necromancer speaks to the dead and if he can call particular souls to him, or has to talk to just those that seek him out? I’m no Necromancer, and where do you even come up with these questions?”

  “I was not asking if you know how they speak, I was asking if you know one. I have messages I need delivered. There are words I should have said to people who have passed, and I never got the chance to. And other things that I’ve no doubt others know because they were sorry people when they were alive, yet I feel the need to reiterate. So, I’ve kept track of these things,” she tapped her head, “and I’ve decided that given the chance to speak to them again, I’ll be sure to get it all out in the open. So, like I was saying. Necromancer, do you have one back where you all come from? I’d like to give more than a few messages.”

  “I do not believe we have a Necromancer, no.”

  “Can your purple friend commune with the dead? Because he doesn’t seem quite alive. I wonder if he could do it for me?”

  “If I can do what for you?” a voice filled the room only moments before the mists could be seen.

  “Do not ask him for a favor, Mamaie. If you do, you will owe him one of his own choosing. That is not always a good thing.”

  Mamaie watched Lore begin to take shape, his corporeal self much more clearly visible than the last time she’d seen him. “It’s much easier to see you than it was when you were here last,” Mamaie said, thoughtfully.

  Lore smiled at her. “I’ve eaten.”

  “Oh, well, yes. When you’re hungry, it’s hard to be strong. A good meal makes all the difference.”

  “It does indeed,” Lore answered.

  “It is done, then?” Murder asked.

  “It is. Where is Enthrall?”

  “With his female. He waits for her to wake.”

  “I will go to him.”

  “Wait. We may have more of a problem,” Murder said, standing.

  “What would that be?” Lore asked.

  Murder looked at Mamaie, as though encouraging her to tell Lore.

  Mamaie looked right back at him and popped a piece of pie into her mouth, chewing quite firmly while shooting Murder’s own expression right back at him.

  Murder huffed and shook his head.

  “Mamaie thinks that Enthrall’s woman may have been pregnant. And since Enthrall turned her, the child may be at risk. Enthrall hasn’t thought of this yet, but when he does, he will be even more upset.”

  Lore’s eyebrows rose. “Pregnant with Enthrall’s child?”

  Mamaie jumped to her feet. “Of course, with Enthrall’s child! What kind of woman do you think Lici is?”

  Lore’s eyebrows raised even further toward his hairline before Murder managed to get his attention again.

  “Do you know, assuming that she was, if the child could survive the transition?”

  Lore still having a stare off with Mamaie answered Murder without looking his way. “If it is indeed Enthrall’s child, there would be no transition necessary for the child. He’ll already be like Enthrall. Only the mother’s transition would take place, leaving the child untouched.”

  “Whoop!” Mamaie called out, actually jumping a couple of inches into the air. “Very good! Very, very good!” she shouted. She hurried over to Lore, unable to take his face in hers — because her hands passed right through his mists — to kiss his cheeks, she gave up. “Well, know that if I could get ahold of you, I�
�d kiss you!”

  Then she turned toward Murder and waved him down to her level. “Get down here, Murder!”

  Murder obliged, shooting Lore a look which clearly conveyed his unease.

  Mamaie grabbed Murder’s face in her old, wrinkled hands and pulled him to her, soundly kissing his face.

  At his shocked expression, Mamaie broke into laughter while she spoke. “Just be glad I’m old, young man. You’d be tied up and claimed before you knew it!”

  The horror that crossed Murder’s face had Lore slipping into fits of laughter.

  Mamaie left them in the kitchen and went to find Gheorghe, Oksana and the kids. They’d sedated Anna earlier with one of Mamaie’s own special blends of herbs, and she was sleeping soundly.

  Murder wiped his hand across the kiss Mamaie had planted on his cheek, and with a panicked look in his eye watched the door she’d disappeared through.

  “I don’t know why you look so put out. I rather like the old woman. She’s very entertaining,” Lore said matter-of-factly.

  “Figures!” Murder snapped, before he stalked past Lore, headed to go find Enthrall and let him know that if his female was indeed pregnant, there’d be no worry, the baby would not be affected by its mother’s transition. He smiled to himself as he thought about Mamaie. Secretly, he liked her, too. She had spunk and backbone. He admired that.

  <<<<<<<>>>>>>>

  Enthrall sat beside the bed Lici slept in, with Shane curled up in his lap, asleep as well. He would be deliriously happy, had the circumstances been different. The irony was not lost on him. He’d finally gotten his family. His son, who loved him and chose to be with him despite the fact that he was a monster. And he’d found his mate, and she’d professed to love him as well. And here he sat keeping watch as they both slept. But she’d not chosen to be like him when given the option. In fact, she’d refused him. She had more of her life left to live before she even considered that option. And he’d understood, even pulling back to allow her all the time she’d needed. Yet, he’d been forced to change her anyway. He’d had to take her life in order to save her, for her to live. And he had no doubt she’d be angry and resentful when she awoke to find herself changed.