Dark Awakenings (Danse Macabre Book 2)

by Christina Quinn

  “I had no choice.” Nikolai murmured. I didn’t answer him, I barely acknowledged that he was still in the room as I checked Aleksi for any sign of life. There was nothing. He never felt completely dead before that moment. My stomach dropped to my toes and I pressed my face against his still chest.

  Others were in the room, I heard footsteps. Someone screamed, a female voice. I was betting Colette. I was vaguely aware I wasn’t the only one on the bed. Something around me was hissing at Nikolai. The hissing grew louder as others joined in, how many had joined us in the room? I didn’t want to look away from Aleksi. They’re going to kill him. I could feel their anger, the scalding rage that seemed to build around us. Aleksi would have chosen you over Nikolai too. It took every bit of willpower I had to turn from Aleksi and finally look around the room. The shadows seemed to grow long and impossibly dark. There were only a handful of vampires in the room. Elizabeta, Colette, Tristan and Evan, that was it but I could feel Vlad in the shadows. Everything felt hostile and focused on Nikolai. You should do something, do you want to lose them both?

  I stood between Elizabeta and Nikolai.

  “Don’t.” I even sounded half enthused as I said it. What could I do, if they really wanted to hurt him they could toss me aside like a doll.

  “Don’t? He’s the heir now, Autumn. We can’t kill him.” Elizabeta practically spat as she narrowed her eyes at Nikolai. “But you knew that, didn’t you?” Her face looked so peaceful, so serene, that might have been why she seemed so terrifying in that moment. As much as that peaceful face demanded attention my fixation was broken by a chorus of high pitched little shrieks. I blinked and Aleksi was gone, just like that nothing of him remained and I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe. Pain radiated out from my chest as dark spots formed in my vision. I felt myself falling before I could comprehend what was happening. The darkness swallowed me whole, the empty, lonely darkness.

  6

  SWANS, LIES & VIDEO TAPE

  IN THE DARKNESS, I DREAMED A DREAM OF SWANS.

  “Odette embodies purity, honesty, and true love.” Evan’s voice seemed to echo from everywhere.

  It all seemed so natural, and so utterly ordinary. I was in the wings behind the stage, waiting for my curtain call. I watched as the corps du ballet in their beautiful white tutus sewn with glittering jewels and soft elegant feathers filtered out on stage. The Pointe shoes on my feet felt stiff and hardly broken in as I rubbed the toes in the resin while that light universally recognizable theme echoed through the theatre. “She represents Prince Sigmund’s unobtainable ideal.”

  My feet moved with artful precision and my body with grace I shouldn’t have possessed. I danced the part of Odette as though I were born to. Every movement seemed to be louder than it should have been. Every pirouette sounded like thunder rolling across dark skies as my shoes rubbed and bounced against the stage.

  “She is everything he longs for, and he knows it the moment he sets his eyes on her.” Evan’s voice cut through the music as Aleksi danced his way through the gathered ballerina cygnets until he found me. “It’s true love. But at first, she doesn’t know this… at first she’s guarded.” Aleksi and I danced the Pas de Deux in Act two, our bodies miming in dance the guarded connection we had. “And then, when she finally opens up to him. When she finally trusts him…” I arched back into a graceful trust fall, and fell back without watching. Aleksi was there to catch me; to drape my body back over his strong arm as he stopped me from falling. “But by then it’s too late. Dawn is coming and with it Rothbart’s curse that will turn the beautiful girl into a swan.” Anguish passed over Aleksi’s face as we parted and I danced off stage.

  “Sigmund is changed by this meeting. Though he tries to maintain the level of calm ambivalence he held before his very core is shaken. And this makes him vulnerable. Rothbart, the Sorcerer who cursed Odette senses the connection. Fearing the loss of his captive, he sends his daughter Odile to seduce Sigmund.” In the wings Colette stood beside me dressed as the black swan. “Odile is the exact opposite of Odette.” Colette started her entrance onto the stage and glanced back at me. It was suddenly no longer Colette but Kendra in the black tutu and tiara.

  “She’s the embodiment of lust, deceit, manipulation and dark desires.” Evan continued to narrate as they started their Pas Deux. “Odile, is the consummate master of seduction. By the end of the night she is able to not only seduce Sigmund away, but convince him that she is actually Odette. That she is this pure embodiment of true love.” I watched as they embraced and, the lingering touches passed between them. His hand loitered too long after a lift while his fingers pressed and grazed subtly between her thighs. “By the time Sigmund realizes he’s betrayed his love, and doomed her to Rothbart eternally it’s too late.”

  I entered the stage again with my faceless swan court. “He’s betrayed her trust… it’s as though you can feel her impending death in the resignation of her movements, and the sorrow held on her face.” It was hard to raise my eyes to his as Aleksi and I danced. I perpetually pulled away from him, not wanting the hands that had lingered against her body touching mine.

  Suddenly, and unexpectedly the house lights shut off leaving nothing but inky blackness.

  “But wait, this is wrong. All wrong.” Evan’s voice purred out. The house lights went back up blinding me for a moment. “There that’s better.”

  Blinking into the blinding lights I found myself in the tutu version of the Sigmund costume. The gold and white piping down the sleeves matched every rendition of Prince Sigmund’s costume I had ever seen. I weaved my way en point through the all-male swan court. These swans didn’t wear the delicate tutu and dainty leotard. Instead they had filmy, floaty white cloaks covered in feathers that gave them the silhouette of birds in flight with every turn. The costumes weren’t unlike the Rothbart costume, only they were all in white. In the center of that court of swans I found their leader. It wasn’t who I expected it to be… Aleksi was the doomed swan prince. When I realized it was him I paused. For a moment my feet forgot their choreography. I stared at him as he craned his long graceful neck to look up at me. After the moment lapse I continued dancing. I gained his trust through our Pas de Deux which drew us closer with every bar of music, and then the theme changed. He danced away from me, pulled away by the coming day and Rothbart’s spell.

  Then I betrayed him by allowing Nikolai to seduce me. His fingers lingered with every touch. His body pressed against mine slightly too often. Every lift and hold had a sexual connection that made me forget a little more about Aleksi. That was until we parted and he took center stage to do the famous thirty two victory fouettes. Sadness and regret over came me causing panic to bubble up inside of me. I ran off stage covering my face in shame. I sprinted through backstage, and threw open the doors into nothingness.

  “It was like you were all made to play the parts. Odette dies betrayed and alone. Odile is victorious. And Sigmund… is brimming with regret as Tchaikovsky intended.” Evan’s voice turned into a soft whisper as things came into focus.

  Once again I found myself standing between Nikolai and Elizabeta. Everything was frozen. It was like time had stopped for everyone else. I was the only one aware of it moving as my attention was drawn to the bed and the absence of Aleksi’s body the white feathered cloak that lay in his place.

  Something out of the corner of my eye drew my attention away from the bed. As I turned away from that damning white cloak of feathers the room around me changed. No longer was I standing between Nikolai and Elizabeta. The room was empty except for a single person standing in front of me.

  Aleksi towered over me, shirtless and in ripped tights like he was the first time I saw him. I stared up into those ethereal eyes. Eyes that brimmed with sadness.

  “I’m sorry.” I breathed. It came out in a rough little whisper which bordered on a sob. Aleksi didn’t answer me, instead he kissed my forehead between my brows.

  That simple innocent kiss felt so real I could fe
el that phantom warmth and even the slight brush of his fangs. He leaned his forehead against mine and held me close for a moment before he pulled back from me and our eyes locked. I lost myself in that sea of Cerulean blue. As I felt myself sucked under I saw that child from my vision fade away with the figures standing over my grave until there was nothing left. I fought my way out of that drowning blue to see hands close over Aleksi’s shoulders. Strong, scarred, calloused hands. With a swallow I followed those hands up to their arm, then the shoulder, the neck and finally the face of their owner. Vlad stared down at me with a hard face and eyes the exact same color as Aleksi’s.

  “Good.” Vlad spoke softly. Aleksi frantically grabbed for my hand as I felt myself being pulled away. Our fingertips brushed with just barely enough space for us to hold on to each other. But oh how we tried. Ultimately whatever was pulling me away won out. Aleksi’s grip slipped and I felt myself pulled almost violently into consciousness.

  With a small startled gasp I sat up straight. The familiar walls of Aleksi’s room pressed in on me, making me brutally aware of my alone-ness. I was in his bed, sitting on his side where he laid for the last few weeks of his life. My face was wet with tears. As I wiped them away I couldn’t help but to feel like I was being watched. It was as though somewhere lurking in the swollen shadows of the room someone was staring back at me. Of course someone’s staring back at you. Vlad doesn’t exactly hide the fact that he’s there. I wanted to glare angrily into the dark but I couldn’t. Instead, I turned and buried my face in the pillow and took a deep inhale. I wanted to smell him, I missed his scent. There was no scent on the pillow. The linen had been changed before they put me in his bed.

  The revelation that even his scent was gone made me feel suffocated by the clothes I wore. I struggled out of that soft, bright red, satin robe. Throwing a tantrum I flailed in the covers and fought to slide the slick and slippery fabric from my skin. My heart felt like a raw open wound as I screamed and threw pillows across the room out of impotent frustration.

  “Why didn’t you stop him?” I growled into the darkness. But I was I talking to Vlad or myself? I had never been so angry before in my life.

  Pushing out of bed I stormed over to the door. For the first time ever I felt my anger like a tangible living thing. I could literally feel it as I headed down the hall. It dragged behind me like a massive cape of destructive force of hate and rage. I was a woman on a mission as I wound my way through the maze of Crimson Hill’s corridors. It almost felt like I was being herded. Vlad’s presence seemed to be there with me, lurking in every shadow I passed. It was like he was leading me.

  My bare feet stuck to the cold concrete floor. No longer was I in the flowery, gilded façade of Crimson Hill. Following Vlad’s looming, lurking specter had lead me deep into the very bowels of the complex; to where people were scarce and signs that said “Keep out — Authorized Personnel Only” decorated every door.

  Those sign bedecked doors opened for me without any effort on my behalf. I knew enough to know that wasn’t me or the blanket of hate that I trailed behind me opening those doors. It was Vlad. I was practically his puppet as I walked deeper and deeper into the darkest reaches of Crimson Hill. Down to the place where the security cameras were replaced with armed guards. Still they didn’t stop me. Some even shied into the corner as I passed.

  I could almost make out Vlad’s outline in the shadows as he led me right to the cell where they were holding Nikolai. The door was thrown open with so much force it cracked the surrounding cinder block. He was chained to the ceiling his toes barely touching the floor. The red pajama pants had been traded for a rough black pair with a square of Aleksi’s bright red sewn onto them.

  “Autumn?” Nikolai furrowed his brows as he looked at me, and my jaw clenched as the door slammed shut. Fear washed over his face as I glared at him.

  “They told you to fuck me, didn’t they?” I hissed out and his lips slowly parted. “Didn’t they!” I shrieked so loud my throat burned and he jumped like I hit him. Those oh so pale eyes fell from me and my hands balled into little white knuckled fists. Then, for the first time in my entire life, I punched someone in the face. My fist connected with the crook of his jaw with a dull smacking sound. It almost didn’t seem real. “Tell me!” I screeched at him as I dug my nails into my palms. Where my fist connected his flesh started to darken as the bruise began to form.

  “Autumn.” He breathed my name again, closing his eyes.

  “Was…” I couldn’t even bring myself to finish the question. I just screamed wordlessly instead, and the chair in the corner of the room crumpled into a mass of warped metal. My breathing became so shallow it was hard to catch my breath. I felt like I had been running a marathon at a sprint.

  “Yes.” The tiny word staggered me backwards like a blow to the chest. Before I knew it my back was to the wall and everything just felt numb. “But I—”

  Before I could make sense of anything, I found myself choking him as I stood on my toes. I didn’t even remember pushing back from the wall, let along closing my hands around his neck. He didn’t fight me. He just stared at me as his face turned red and then violet.

  There were people outside of the door yelling as they tried to get into the small cell. The sound seemed so muffled and far away. Was I holding them out?

  Out of nowhere I felt thumbs trailing over my shoulders before familiar hands closed over them. Aleksi? With the passing thought I felt my body falling to the ground like a boneless doll. My consciousness was pulled from me like a magician pulls a tablecloth out from under a place setting—subtly and abruptly.

  “There she is.” Evan’s dulcet tones brought me into consciousness. I flinched at the bright light that accompanied it. My eyes squinted as I tried to make out my surroundings. I was on a large leather chaise lounge with Evan seated beside me. He took a small little breath and looked away from me to glare in someone’s general direction. “No need for drugs.” He growled at the fuzzy shape that gained his ire.

  “At least it makes sense now.” Tristan sighed as I slowly sat up. More of the room came into focus as I got used to the light. I was in an office, a really nice office. Rich dark wallpaper with dark wood trim covered the walls broken up by tall mahogany bookcases. There was a canvas above the desk. An oil painting of Tristan looking rather unamused while seated at a desk covered in books with a quill in hand. Judging by the clothes he wore I was betting fifteen hundreds or so.

  The look in the painting said it all. He would rather be anywhere but there. It was almost intimidating and I never thought of Tristan as intimidating. He was friendly and personable. But that painting spoke volumes. He was old, older than the state we were in, older than the country we were in. He had seen dynasties rise and fall and survived it all unscathed and he would continue to endure.

  “You gave us a bit of a scare there, girly.” I knew it was Wyatt speaking without even having to turn my head to look. “You had what I call an orange level episode. Hell lets be honest here. You had a red level episode. The only reason you’re still amongst the living and don’t have your pretty little brains splattered over a wall somewhere is because Elizabeta says you’re useful. Calling what you did Orange is like calling a damned Tiger a pussy cat. Personally I ain’t never heard of no pussy cat eating a man’s face. And I ain’t never heard of no Orange level episode almost having casualties.” Evan swallowed and looked away as Wyatt finished his tirade.

  “That’s enough, Wyatt!” Elizabeta’s voice cut through the room like a machete. It was her business voice. Her tone was all authority and determination. “I am council. I made the call. If you have a problem with it.” She strode across the room to stand in front him and held her arms open wide. Wyatt backed down immediately and rolled his head to the side—exposing his throat to her in submission. “That’s what I thought. She didn’t kill him. She could have but she didn’t. I wanted to strangle him the moment I saw him standing by A-aleksi.” Her voice cracked when she said his nam
e. Wyatt walked across the room and attempted to wrap his arms around her. She shoved him away hard enough to throw him off balance. “Autumn…” She smiled at me weakly. “We…” She glanced back at Tristan and then a small form in the corner. I almost didn’t recognize Colette. Her face was pink from crying and covered in tears. She looked in a word, destroyed. Essentially, she looked exactly how I felt. “We have decided that officially, Nikolai didn’t kill Aleksi. He lost the battle with the VR-A7 and suffered a peaceful final death.” As Elizabeta spoke I could almost feel Aleksi’s body seizing again. It certainly didn’t feel peaceful. “We’re going to bind Nikolai to Colette, and things are going to continue as they have been other than that.”

  “I…”

  “We’ll make it so you won’t have to see him after tonight—unless it’s absolutely unavoidable.” Tristan offered glancing to Elizabeta before his blue eyes fell back to me. “But first… we need you to get Nikolai to answer a few questions.”

  “Why me?” My voice broke, the ‘me’ came out a hissed whisper.

  “Because he said he won’t talk until he can talk to you. And it’s pointless to beat a Masochist if you’re not going to kill them.”

  “H-he w-w-was…was only…” I trailed off and looked up at Evan. He pursed his lips and looked away.

  “Things…are very complicated. That’s why I…” Colette spoke as she pushed from the corner and made her way over to the chaise. “Pleaded for Nikolai’s life.”

  “I nicked this photo when they were moving him.” Evan didn’t seem happy as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and touched the screen a few times. He turned his phone around to show me the photo. I didn’t need to know context to know who's back it was on the tiny screen. It was clearly Nikolai’s back, very few people had those exact tattoos let alone in those places. However, he had a tattoo that I didn’t document in Moscow. One that I hadn’t noticed in the month we had been together. A small tree with yellow and orange leaves with ‘Autumn’ written under it in sloppy cursive.