He arched back, showing her his fangs, which he brought down into her neck. They pierced her flesh. She heard sucking sounds accompanying his gravely moan. He was famished. His hair pomade was laced with citrus. The powder on his cheeks would no doubt leave a residue. His skin was icy cold yet supple, like the dough of coarse bread she kneaded in the teaching center.
He didn’t drain her like the other creature had. Just when she thought she would pass out, he stopped, sat back on his haunches and slurped his lips closed. His hands were devoid of claws, but were deformed and gnarly, and clutched each other as he brought them to his chest. He sighed, and then let his shoulders drop.
“Wonderful. The best I’ve had.” He angled his head as he slathered a look down her entire body. “I love human women, but angel blood just does something to me.”
She began to shiver again.
“Oh, my sweet,” he said in feigned sadness, knitting his eyebrows together, “Your beautiful little body is not accustomed to our cool rooms of pleasure.”
Rooms of pleasure?
He leaned in, a sickly sweet smile spread across his face as he arranged her hair, pinched her nipples, and fawned over the placement of her torso on the bed. His raspy breath was thick with the scent of blood. He availed himself of a double squeeze of her breasts again, and moaned like an alley cat in heat.
Persephone was aware of the tenting in his leather pants.
“I will untie you if you will pleasure me of your own volition.”
She remembered Gideon’s story of the red vamp. “Never,” she repeated his words, finding strength in the knowledge Gideon had fought to the end, and she would, too.
“Um… I also like to take women, force them. Perhaps you will learn to derive as much pleasure as I do,”—he placed his face within an inch of hers, but not close enough so she could bite his nose off—“in time, that is. And we will have all eternity to get to know one another.”
So he doesn’t want me dead, ended. He will force me, but I will remain alive until I can… can… what? Seek revenge?
She had never been angry before. She had been schooled never to take revenge on anybody or, in this case, anything.
An idea brightly clung to her chest. She must be in the Underworld, but she was not fully turned. Her wings were still grey and light, not dark. She was unharmed. A prisoner, not a member of the Underworld. Not yet. That meant rescue was possible. She sent out a silent call to whomever could hear her: Father, Francis, other Guardians, but felt it hit something and come shattering back into the room in waves. No one else appeared to sense it.
“My dear, I have waited a long time for this day. If you fulfill your role well, I will reward you with something you have wanted your entire life.” He sat back, putting his black boots up on the bed, crossing them at his ankles. The fingers of his left hand traced down from her breast, to her belly button, and then lower, rubbing her nub, a place she now knew well, but which did not give her any sexual satisfaction.
“Let me kiss you there, and I will tell you about your surprise.” He blew on her face and yes, a warm erotic wind tickled her nose, soaking into her nostrils and slithering down her spine like a dark drug. But she was still herself. And she still had a will of her own. But she knew, in spite of this despicable situation, she was affected, and it was new.
“I know he has pleasured you. He will do so again, after perhaps I have used you in ways you couldn’t imagine.”
He? Gideon? She wondered if he was somehow nearby.
“I had wanted you before he got here, but decided that it will heighten my pleasure to have him watch as I”—he took his little finger and slipped just the tip inside her opening—“fuck you day and night until you beg me for more.” He removed his finger. “And you will beg me. They all do, in the end.”
“Never,” she repeated.
He smiled and looked at the black creatures in a row at the sides of the stone wall. “If you can’t keep me pleasured and distracted from my awful job here, then I shall have to throw you to them. It helps with the morale around here.”
The goons on the side grunted. One was humping the stone wall, pleasuring a large crack.
The human creature removed his cape and laid it over her body. This she was grateful for. “I will take much better care of you than these men, if I can call them that. As you can see”—he waved a hand in their direction—“you could be pleasured by men who like to eat shoes and force themselves on unsuspecting walls.” His face looked sad, “They are quite bored, but they’d rather live than end all this boredom, as long as I give them a reason. As long as I give them fresh meat. In the end, it’s just a need, my dear.”
He tucked the cape up around her neck, arranging her hair again, touching the skin of her cheeks, forehead, and her chin.
“Permit me to introduce myself. I am the Director of the Underworld, duly elected by popular vote. Like all good emperors, kings, and popes, I have chosen the name for my lineage: Luke I.” He nodded, hands in prayer formation. “But you can call me ‘The Dark One’ like you do your lover, don’t you?”
She’d never had the desire to call Gideon anything dark. He was master of her heart and everything she could give him, but dark? Do things to her without her permission? Never.
With his left hand, he squeezed her lips together until they hurt. “I love lips, I live for lips. I like lips kissing me… everywhere,” he said as he bent over and kissed her. “But, my dear angel, I also like lips to talk back to me, especially dirty things.”
A loud scream came from a hallway outside the metal sliding door, followed by the cackling of creatures similar to those that were her audience with the Dark One. The villains were craning their necks, bending their faces to listen to the metal as if they could hear what was going on on the other side.
“Bring her here so I can show the Guardian how we take care of our women.” Her captor snapped his fingers, and the foursome left, returning a short seconds later.
Persephone watched the two creatures hauling their prey into the room, dumping her at the Dark One’s feet. Then they were ordered to stand the woman up. She was human. Her dirty red hair was matted and her dress had been reduced to rags, barely covering up her body parts.
As the woman took in Persephone, her eyes widened.
“Please, help me,” the woman pleaded.
“Silence! I didn’t say you could speak!” the Dark One barked. He scrambled off the bed, walking slowly toward the cowering woman still braced by the grunting and slobbering dark creatures.
Persephone tried to concentrate, unfurl her wings and trace, but again, the silver necklace held her in place, draining whatever power she still had.
Her captor pulled the woman’s head up by her hair and sneered. “I was going to demonstrate something, but she’s too dirty and roughed up for my tastes.” He smiled at Persephone while releasing the woman’s hair.
She wished there was something she could do to come to the aid of the young woman, who was surely destined for some disgusting things, but she felt just as helpless as the woman herself. She thought perhaps she might reason with the Dark One.
“Might I make a suggestion, sir?” She was rewarded with a gleam in the Dark One’s red eyes. “Perhaps your enjoyment would be enhanced if you allowed her to clean herself up? Or is this not to your liking?”
The self-proclaimed Luke I was at her bedside like a trace. “Or, I could just take the clean one and leave the dirty one to my men.”
“And why not have both?”
The woman’s cowering stopped. Persephone had drawn the attention of all the evil ones in the room, away from the other woman. The woman yanked herself free of the creatures with one motion, and in a follow-up, took hold of a curved-bladed knife from a pouch strapped to one of the creature’s thighs. With lightning speed, she twirled and sliced the legs out from under all of them with amazing strength. The only one left unbloodied and standing was the Dark One himself.
Not Guardia
n. But something else.
But the woman’s temporary freedom didn’t last longer than a few seconds. A fireball coming straight from the eyes of the Dark One suddenly engulfed her. What remained of her was a dark oily patch in the middle of the stone floor after the searing heat.
She could tell their leader was annoyed with the screams coming from his injured accomplices, so after he’d finished obliterating the woman from existence, he turned his fire on the four dark creatures who had brought Persephone to the room. She allowed herself one moment of humor as the large ball sac on one of the creatures was all that remained of him, yet was stubbornly reduced to that scorched puddle by a second blast, annoying the Evil One further.
After his display, he crooned and preened in front of her, a sly smile crossing his lips as she attempted to show fear. It wasn’t that hard to mimic, and she did feel her teeth chattering. But she told herself she wasn’t afraid. She was cold.
“Better.” He picked up a sheet folded neatly in a stack on a table nearby. “This will give you a little warmth. I need my cloak. I shall be traveling the next two days, but I shall return. They are not to harm you. You are to be prepared for my return.”
He pulled the cape off her, appreciated her body one more time, bowed, and then threw the white sheet at her. The object covered her as if it had been ordered. He disappeared through the metal door without opening it.
Persephone closed her eyes to imagine herself in her own bed, walking in a garden, or strolling on the beach with Gideon. She envisioned the bright lights in Heaven, the playhouse and Guardianship classes, and the beautiful sounds of choirs, the Heavenly Hearts radio station with that controversial DJ who made them swoon, especially in her early days there. She tried to remember being a young human woman, and found she still couldn’t. Some of the Guardians retained glimpses of their former lives, but this hadn’t been the case for her.
Opening her eyes, she stared at the reality of where she really was. The bleakness of the cell made of stone, without windows or light except through a crack under the metal door, matched the sounds of water dripping somewhere and that faint scent of scorched feathers, flesh, and dried blood. She knew there was only one way out. It was by accepting what was real, and making the determination she’d do something about it.
After all, it wasn’t about her own safety. She was Gideon’s Guardian. That she was also his lover—making her stomach flutter with delight and her spine tingle when she saw his face in her mind—was only secondary to her mission, her job. She hoped that at some point when she had to face the reality of whatever Father had in store for her, paying for her transgressions, that he would at least understand what was in her heart. What her overall intentions had been.
Was it weakness or fate that made her love him? She chose to think it was the latter, that somehow she was destined to be by his side, no matter what the cause. She had never hurt anyone in her whole life, except to defend herself. Surely this must be something another Guardian had experienced in the past. She couldn’t be unique. The rumors and whispers whisking around the Guardianship were rife with the fantastic stories of forbidden love and a life ever after filled with joy. A handful of Guardians had been pardoned. But more than a handful were lost. Perhaps her mission was to find them in the Underworld, if she could.
She knew Gideon would be filled with grief, so getting a message to him, somehow, was important. The barrier, causing her telepathic messages to fall back without being transported was a big problem for her. She didn’t want Gideon risking his own life to save hers. So finding someone who could carry her message was probably more important than anything else.
She had to stop looking at the moist walls, the crevices where she was sure little insects and unmentionable things were stashed. Screams and groans from elsewhere echoed, chilling the air and shaking her soul. But still, she knew it was her job to maintain focus on the task, to never give up hope, though it was in short supply.
Somehow there’d be a way.
She closed her eyes again, indulging in another fantasy. Gideon kissing her, Gideon in the shower, the way they flew together, the wonder at what had begun to bloom inside her at his touch, the rumble of his voice that thrilled her so. Even the growl he made when he was angry, showing her he would defend strongly anything he believed in, gave her hope for a new day. He was a worthy being, someone who had endured a terrible life and deserved some peace, love, and a future unfettered by demonic influences and other creatures controlling his life. Gideon was a warrior, not a servant.
The music of their whispers and lovemaking warmed her, brought a smile to her lips, and a tear streaking down one side, falling into her hairline. She willed her wings to fluff in her wing sacs, creating a small cushion for her upper back and spine to rest against, giving warmth and softness in an otherwise stark, cold, and damp cell. She pretended they were Gideon’s wings sheltering her, protecting her from the elements here.
It was the only thing she could do right now.
I am still alive, and my love burns deep in my soul and sustains me.
That was going to have to be good enough for now.
Gideon sat with his legs still in the pond, reaching to touch the koi who nibbled salty sweat from his fingers as he waved them through the water. His anger was still there, his heart on the verge of exploding with disappointment and loss, but watching the fish made him realize that no matter what, life would continue, even if the worst had happened to his beautiful Guardian.
He sighed, and then he sat erect, as something in the bushes behind him caught his attention.
The Red Queen showed herself at last, appearing next to him on the concrete ledge.
He wanted to strike at her but found she had glamoured him somehow so his anger was bridled.
“Ah, my poor Gideon. Forever on the losing side, always regretting, eternally running away,” she said with her cooing that sent a shiver down his spine.
“I am not running away.”
She clucked her tongue and leaned in to him, her cinnamon and eucalyptus scent assaulting his nose. He could tell she was commanding him to wrap his arms around her, but he would not give her that satisfaction. He remained seated, refusing to look at her so her powers were diminished.
“I told you there was no escape. You are my pet. You belong to me because I made you.”
“You didn’t make me, you took me, you bitch.”
“Careful, careful. I’m trying to offer you my soothing womanly ways as a peace offering.”
No, Gideon did not want to be her slave in any way. He knew she had no soothing ways about her at all. “Everything you touch is destroyed. If you came to end my existence, do so and be quick about it.”
“But suppose I were to recall your lovely Guardian? What if I could bring her back from the dead, or rescue her from the Underworld?”
He looked at her, finally. “You can do that?”
“What would it be worth to you?”
“Why discuss something that cannot be done? In all likelihood, she’s gone. I failed to protect her.”
“Sadly, those creatures did overcome you. But my handsome paramour—”
“I am not your paramour,” he barked.
“We’ll see about that. Remember, Gideon, that it took six of them to defeat you. What would have happened if there had been just one more on your side? The odds would have been close to even, I suspect.”
“Does no good to play with me this way, vampire.”
She moved her hand to clutch his groin and balls. “But I enjoy playing with you, Gideon. In time, I think you could learn to like it again.”
“That was a time when I hated myself.”
“I gave you powers.”
“Only to pleasure you.”
“And you were not left without pleasure? Tell the truth.” She turned with enough angle so that her breasts pressed against his bicep. Her syrupy whisper made his ears buzz. “I ache still for those long nights we burned in each other’s arms.�
��
Gideon tried to stand, stiffening his spine and fisting his hands, but the will to get to his feet was taken from him. He was glad he still retained the ability to speak. “I was your slave. Like I said before, you took. I did not give you anything. My own free will was removed.”
“Yes, and your Guardian rescued you. Tell me, sweet Gideon, how does it feel to be rescued by a woman? Could you not let this woman do the same?”
“I was not rescued. I was ruined.”
“Well, there we have it.” She leaned against him. “Allow yourself to be ruined by this woman now, and perhaps I’ll give you a miracle.”
“I don’t believe you can raise the dead.”
“Why would they end her beautiful life? What purpose would that achieve? Have you thought about that?” She fingered his ear again.
He craned his neck to push away from her, rolling his shoulder as if he was removing one of the clockmaker’s bot gnats. “Stop it. That doesn’t work on me.”
“Just consider it. I could grant you a wish, and you would grant me mine. Suppose I rescue her, because I have it on good authority she’ll be paraded and prized above all others down there. If I did this, would you willingly consent to come back to my bed?”
“Don’t you mean cage?”
“For the price of rescuing Persephone from an eternity of Hell? From being fucked and debased, tortured and paraded around until the end of time? It seems like that miracle would be worth the entire world to you. Or would you rather live eternally with the knowledge you did nothing?”
Gideon remembered the conversation with the clockmaker. He didn’t want to dwell on it too heavily in case she had some faint chance of reading his mind, so he quickly thought about Francis and one of his sneezing bouts.
“You have evidence she still lives?”
“It needs to be verified. My brothers have traveled to the Underworld, whereas I have not. But I trust their information. They are seldom wrong, especially with some news that could be beneficial to me.”
Gideon Page 15
