by HP Mallory
“Fuck!” I said as I shook my head and inhaled deeply. I was familiar with that narcotic. It was basically a muscle relaxant on crack. It made the user look as if they were dead because it targeted the nervous system and instantly disabled it. That meant now I no longer had any control over my body. In addition to that, in a short amount of time, my temperature was going to drop substantially. That was another reason why many people mistakenly assumed that those who took the narcotic were actually dead. All the while, however, my brain would remain unaffected and alert. Any way I looked at it, I had to expect a rough road ahead of me, at least for the next hour. But, the Darkness did have a point—as far as potions went, this one was on the less harmful side and there were no side effects.
“Come now,” the man crooned as he massaged my back below my wings as if trying to comfort me. The room started to swirl around me and soon became no more than a blur of dark colors. I felt him assisting me onto the plush, downy softness of the black velvet divan. He politely held my wings out so I wouldn’t crush them as I closed my eyes. The swirling of the room was making me dizzier, and I dropped my weary head onto the lavish pillow. I felt the man covering me with a thick blanket, no doubt because I was about to become seriously cold.
“What are … you going … to do to me?” I asked, my tone of voice did not even hint at the angst that was now nagging at me.
“I am going to tell you a little story,” he answered as he sat down next to me. He carefully pulled the blanket up to my neck, tucking it in around my shoulders and my upper arms, both of which lay motionless at my sides.
“A little story?” I repeated, half wondering if I were now hallucinating because it sounded so bizarre and illogical. The last thing I expected now was to be tucked in and told a bedtime story …
“Yes,” he replied. “You will soon lose your ability to speak or form words,” he explained as he began rubbing my arms up and down, as if trying to warm me up before the cold overtook me. But the coldness had already set in, and I could feel the icy pin pricks racing up and down my skin. “That means I will have to do all the talking.”
“What are you … going to do to me?” I demanded again, my eyes growing wide with irrepressible fear.
“Let me say this: I am not going to hurt you,” he answered as he smiled down at me. But it wasn’t a smile that I trusted, and it didn’t comfort me in the least.
I opened my mouth to insist he stop playing word games and tell me immediately what was going to happen, but when I spoke, my voice came out as nothing more than garbled sounds that made no sense. Worse still, my jaw remained open since I was unable to use my motor skills. He reached forward and pushed my gaping jaw back up to close it again.
“Do not make any further attempts toward speech. Your body has lost its ability and will not allow you to any longer,” he informed me. “Instead, I would ask you to listen to the short story I am about to tell you. This is a tale about your past. Perhaps, it will answer many of the questions that I am certain you must have often wondered about. And, I have not forgotten my promise when I assured you earlier that I would happily divulge to you all the reasons why I need you. I shall very soon keep my word.”
I could do and say nothing, so I just lay there, like a newborn baby swaddled in a blanket. I looked up at him, though, and I wondered what could possibly lie in store for me. I was afraid; there was no denying that. But I was also somewhat optimistic that I could make it out of even this dire situation alive. Maybe it was just a false hope and a stupid one at that, but somewhere, deep down inside of me, I actually felt convinced that I would survive this. Maybe because I was banking on the Darkness needing me, as he’d said, but regardless of why, it did set me at ease somewhat.
“Your mother fled to Earth to escape the Netherworld and especially your father; that much is true,” the man began. He pushed my hair away from my face and held the back of his hand to my cheeks, like a mother checking her sick child’s temperature. “You are growing colder,” he informed me. “I fear that will be the most uncomfortable part of your experience, and I must sincerely apologize. I shall do my best, however, to keep you warm.” Then he glanced up in the direction of the entrance to the dining hall. “Antoine,” he said using the same tone he’d used when addressing me.
I heard the door open and was amazed that Antoine could even manage to hear him in the first place. The man had spoken in such a low, almost inaudible tone that there was no plausible way for Antoine to have heard him, that is, unless Antoine were a vampire. In that case, his auditory capabilities would have been highly refined and extremely sensitive. That would also explain how he could walk on the hardwood floors without making any sound at all. Hmm, maybe I’d just solved at least one of the riddles in this place.
In maybe a matter of seconds, Antoine instantly appeared above me, but his attention was fastened on the man sitting beside me. The man faced him with a tender expression, one that hinted at genuine fondness. I found their whole exchange strangely bizarre and concluded maybe he and Antoine were lovers or something equally as intimate.
“She is currently under the effects of the living death,” the man started to explain as his glance shifted to my direction. “Consequently, her body is now being consumed by the coldness. Would you mind building a large fire to heat the room, Antoine?”
Antoine simply nodded before he turned around, heading toward the enormous fireplace. Then the man returned his ministrations to me and began rubbing my arms again, only more fervently. The coldness was exactly as he warned me it would be—horribly uncomfortable, even to the point of agonizing pain. I felt like I was packed in ice and my nerve endings were screaming out and protesting their cruel treatment. The only thing I could do was shiver involuntarily while it felt like I was being electrocuted by a million tiny wires all over my body.
“When your mother fled the Netherworld,” the man started again as Antoine finished building the fire. The orange and yellow flames began to roar upward, throwing flickering shadows all around the room. I was instantly reminded of my childhood, listening to ghost stories while gathered around a campfire.
You’re as far away from summer camp as you could possibly be! I mentally scolded myself. The annoyance brewing inside me was replaced by a deep-rooted sensation of regret and disappointment that surged all the way through me as soon as I re-acknowledged my current situation.
“She fled from your father, yes,” the man continued. “But, she also fled the Netherworld because she wanted to shield you from something she never should have tried to protect you from.” My eyebrows began creasing in the center of my forehead, and I felt relief as well as surprise that I still had any ability to move. “You see, your mother did not understand what we, that is, your father and I, were trying to do,” he started to explain. Antoine approached him then and nodded his head quickly before exiting the room. “She did not understand our goals and motivation, because your father never explained anything to her, and perhaps that was his failing.”
With nothing to do but look up at him, I did just that. Meanwhile, in my mind, I wondered what reason he had for telling me this and whether he was even telling me the truth in the first place? At this point, I sincerely doubted anything the Darkness had to say. As far as I knew, it could all just be part and parcel of whatever grand scheme he conjured up in his mind where I was concerned. If he ultimately intended to turn me against my values and beliefs, along with the ANC and everyone who ever meant anything important or special to me, deceiving me was a good way to accomplish such a trick. With that in mind, I immediately fortified myself, refusing to believe a single word that came out of his mouth.
“Let me explain. Your father and I were only attempting to strengthen you,” the man continued. “Born of fae and elven parents, your species are renowned for being very magically powerful to begin with. And we only sought to increase that mighty power.” The fire behind him popped, and a glowing cinder flew from the flames and landed on the stone hearth,
fizzling out only seconds later. The man glanced at it momentarily without reacting and returned his gaze to me. “In order to enhance and amplify your natural powers, your father injected you, while you were still in your mother’s womb, with the blood of a very powerful master vampire,” he explained, and my stomach churned with acid as I suddenly felt very ill.
Don’t believe it! It’s not true, Dulcie, I said to myself as the shock of his words bolted through me despite how many times I denied their probability. There’s no way that any of this could be true! If it were, your mother would have told you all about it when she said she escaped from Melchior in the first place! Then I remembered that my mother never told me exactly why she left my father and the Netherworld; and that sad recollection now stuck in my head like gooey tar.
“We naturally waited until your mother had entered her third trimester, because we were very worried that such a young fetus could not survive the potent blood. And, of course, we transfused you in gradual increments, starting you off with very small doses. Surprisingly, after a few months, you seemed to tolerate the blood transfusions quite well.”
It can’t be true! I protested to myself as my angry tears burned and filled my eyelids. I suddenly wished my hearing would be just as disabled as the rest of me so I could spare myself these lies.
“I am sure this comes as quite a surprise or even a shock to you,” he added as he offered me a cheesy smile of consolation that did nothing but annoy me. “But have you ever wondered why you excelled as a Regulator in the ANC to the degree that you have? Or why your magic is as potent as it is? If you have ever known other fae creatures and compared your abilities to theirs, you would certainly notice a huge disparity.”
I thought about it for less than a half a second and realized I didn’t know any other fairies, so I had nothing and no one to compare my powers with or against. But he was correct, I was very powerful. When my magic was available to me, I could pretty much do any and everything I could think of. But that still didn’t mean the rest of his story was true. And just because I had no one with whom I could compare my abilities, that didn’t strengthen his claim, it only weakened it.
“Even though your mother ruined our plans by running away to Earth when she did, the blood we did manage to give you had a lasting impact, Dulcie. It strengthened your body as well as your magic. It ultimately helped to shape you into the powerful creature you are today.”
I just didn’t know how any of this could be true. If I had been injected with vampire blood, why didn’t I show any vampire traits? Despite my powers, it wasn’t like I was especially strong or could move particularly fast. Furthermore, I tolerated a day in the sun just fine. The more I considered his story, the more convinced I became that all of it was nothing more than bullshit. Bullshit that was intended to make me doubt everything I was. Well, it wouldn’t work.
“After your mother departed the Netherworld with you,” the man said, and his eyes took on a faraway glaze. “We did our best to try and locate both of you, but your mother was also a powerful fairy in her own right. She had no trouble in concealing your whereabouts because she used her magic.” He stopped talking for a moment and smiled down at me again before he resumed rubbing my arms. “The only reason I am telling you this now is because I did not want you to believe your father and I simply gave up on you; that was not the case at all.”
After he finished rubbing my arms, which really didn’t do much to restore any heat to my ice cold body, he sat up straight as his gaze settled on something far off in the distance. “And that brings us to the present moment and the true reasons why I need you,” he said without bothering to look at me. Standing up, he shook his head. As soon as he did, his eyes went wide and he glanced around the room as if he were utterly surprised. It was a similar reaction to the maid’s after the Darkness abandoned her body, so I figured the same thing must have just happened. It took the man only a second or two to regain his composure after which he immediately nodded his head and bowed low to someone I couldn’t see.
As with Antoine, I couldn’t hear any footsteps that would alert me to someone entering the room. Nonetheless, I was sure someone had entered, because I could feel the swish in the air as the person walked past me. That, and I doubted my companion would be acting in such a way unless someone else had joined us.
“Master,” the man said while continuing to keep his head bowed low. Yep, the Darkness most definitely left his body, and, as far as I could deduce, he had just entered the room.
I strained to move my head to the side, hoping to get a fleeting glimpse of the Darkness, but my body refused to comply. Doomed to just lie there inertly, I began staring straight up at the ceiling.
“Leave us, Ernest,” the Darkness replied in a woman’s voice. I inwardly sighed as soon as I realized the Darkness must have simply assumed the body of another one of his employees, probably one of the maids, as usual. However, it did strike me as somewhat odd that he would leave the man’s body in order to possess someone else’s. I didn’t waste much more thinking on the subject, though, and concluded that each employee could probably only be possessed for so long before it took a large toll on their bodies.
The man, Ernest, nodded and immediately walked past the settee. His footfalls were just as silent as Antoine’s and the woman’s. When the woman finally showed herself, I was surprised. First of all, she wasn’t dressed in a maid’s outfit. Instead, she wore black slacks with a dark grey blouse that was neatly tucked into her pants. It failed to hide her ample breasts, however. Her hair was the color of ebony and it fell to her waist in thick, straight strands. Her eyes shone like emeralds, and seemed to be the same exact color as mine or close to it. Whoever this woman was, she was stunningly beautiful.
“Hello, Dulcie,” she said, and a knowing smile spread across her plump lips. “Of course, I’m aware that you cannot speak at present,” she continued as she took a step closer to me and remained standing. It almost seemed as if she enjoyed making me feel smaller and even more helpless. “Allow me to introduce myself,” she announced, and her perfect smile broadened while her eyes narrowed. Her expression was definitely that of someone up to no good. “I am the Darkness.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Dulcie
I was surprised. No, I was floored. I couldn’t help it.
But then everything started to make sense. As a woman, the Darkness knew her sex would be held against her in any attempts to unite the potions gangs. So it made all the sense in the world that she kept her identity secret, except for those closest to her, such as Ernest and, possibly, Antoine. As with the other creatures I’d encountered in this house, I couldn’t decipher what type of creature the Darkness was. I supposed that would continue to remain a mystery.
“I am certain you have a million or more thoughts going through your head right now,” the Darkness stated as she took a seat on the edge of the settee. She clasped her small, white hands together in her lap. “And I apologize that you are unable to voice any of them.” She smiled at me, and it was long and languid. “Unfortunately, I can’t add mind-reader to the array of skills and abilities I currently enjoy,” she added with a quick but phony laugh. “However, I will do my best to answer the questions I imagine you must have.”
She reached over unexpectedly and shifted the blanket. Moving my dress up and away from me, she wrapped her hand around my ankle before her eyes met mine again. “Yes, you are freezing, just as I predicted you would be. I am sorry for that,” she said as she turned around and faced the crackling fire, which was still roaring in the hearth. I was sure it must have been blazing hot, but it did little or nothing to thaw out my frigid body.
Standing up, she walked around the divan before placing both of her palms on top of it. Then she bent over and pushed it closer to the fireplace, with me still lying on it, as if the combined weight were no more than a pound. Whatever the Darkness was, she had ample strength at her disposal.
When the divan was no more than a foot
away from the fireplace, she resumed her seated position at the base of the settee and offered me another smile. And just as with the first smile, this one seemed off somehow too. It was as if all of her smiles were forced, fake—almost like she didn’t actually feel the amusement or contentedness inherent in a smile and was just doing it simply because she felt it was expected.
“I hope you will be warmer now,” she said. Sadly for me, I still couldn’t say I actually felt any of the heat from the fire. There was a numbness inside me now. The former needle points and stinging from the icy coldness had finally ceased, so I supposed that was a small luxury.
“As you now must understand, I knew your father for a very long time,” she began with a brief nod. “I knew him for as long as you have been alive and even perhaps five years before your birth.”
I had to remind myself not to believe anything that came out of her mouth. It was all part and parcel of her grand scheme to throw me off by making me doubt everything I knew and formerly accepted as reality. There was no way anything she said could have been true … right?
“Your father and I started our liaison as strictly business partners,” she explained. “And while we were never actually friends, I would say that our business partnership or relationship was a closely knit one. We mutually respected one another,” she added as she speared me with those green, catlike eyes. “And before you even begin to wonder, no, we were never lovers,” she finished, and that counterfeit smile appeared on her lips again.
Of course, I was wondering about that exact topic. But the very idea that this woman could have been my father’s former lover made me violently sick to my stomach. I’m sure that reaction would have extended to any woman who could have had a romantic or sexual attachment to him. It was something I would never understand. I could only wonder if when my mother first met him, he was a different person. Or so I hoped.
