“Beautiful isn’t it?” She murmered with a sense of awe. “Poor Ellen…she had no idea that she is about to become the mother of gods.” Celine clicked off the screen and turned to the technician who was giving her the strangest look. “I want her sedated from this point on. There’s no sense in her suffering any more than she has to. I’ll have her brought down to the lab in a few hours.” The man in the lab coat nodded silently. “Oh, and you had better restrain her. The tonic had most assuredly made her stronger than she looks. I don’t want any unpleasant surprises. Do we understand each other?” She glared down at him and he could feel the heat coming from her. He was used to it by now.
“Completely.” The man gathered up the papers and watched in quiet horror as the beautiful president of Celgen took her leave.
HOME
When Sasha woke up she yawned and smiled as if remembering a pleasant dream. She opened her eyes and before her mind had a chance to analyze anything she was overwhelmed by the beauty of the room. It was a room from Versailles at the time of the Sun King. A woman’s bedroom without a doubt and for the tiniest of moments she began to ponder if somehow she had been catapulted through time like a heroine of some novel who falls in love with a Duke who later turns out to be a great uncle of hers. She knew this could not be. There was a rational explanation but she just didn’t know what it was yet. She reached back into her mind. She was on the stairs and she was looking down into the garden of her dreams and now here she was but where was here? It hit her suddenly without warning. She was in the house! The house that she had visited almost nightly in her dreams. The moment she had been dreaming about was now a reality and here lie the seeds of horror. How could she possibly be in a place her slumbering mind had created? She had never been to Paris until she moved here but somehow she knew that all along her ambition had led her to just this place. She didn’t believe in reincarnation yet she could not discount it in the face of this new thing. She didn’t know what to believe. Her eyes roamed to the tall elongated windows overlooking trerraces that led down into an enormous garden. What the hell was happening to her? She got out of the opulent bed adorned with endless silk pillows and brocade blankets of turquioise and gold. The attention to detail was that of an artist. It was a school girl’s dream and now she would fall in love with the dark haired stranger who had rescued her. The stranger! She must have fainted and the man had brought her to this house. But why? Suddenly it all mattered very little. She knew that something was going on and she knew that she would get to the bottom of it. She looked up to the gilded vanity with tall gracefull swans on either side of the egg shaped mirror. Her reflection startled her. Her chestnut hair was down and fairly curly in the humid Spring morning of Paris. The windows were open and she glimpsed the tall trees with their speckled trunks and leaves dancing on the breeze, She turned back to the vanity. There was a vase filled with black Dahlias. They were uniquely beautiful. Everything in the room was beautiful and she suddenly felt dizzy. Too much stimulus was threatening her logical mind. The very softness of the room lulled her soothingly inviting her back to the bed all in white and gold painted wood. There were swans carved in the headboard and she saw her clothes hanging over the chaise lounge that faced the window. She did not know what she would have done next as the sound of gentle knocking distracted her from the trance that was engulfing her..
“Yes?” She barely managed hearing the fear in her own voice as her heart pounded furiously and she felt the heat rush to her face from the adrenaline rush.
“Bonjour!” A pleasant young woman’s voice sounded through the door. “Desirez un café ou une tasse de the?”
“Oui. Je prends un café merci.” She rushed to the door and opened it to see a lovely young French woman dressed sharply in black and white like a very modern and chic maid. She rolled in a little cart with a silver coffee set on top. There were also plates filled with croissants and fruits and cheeses. This was ridiculous! Was someone playing a joke on her? She was in the middle of a bad novel and she didn’t know her lines. She decided to play tough.
“Where am I?” She did not smile. She did not speak French. The young woman smiled and said softly.
“You are in the house of Marcus D’Allessandro on the Rue Raynouard in Passy. He wishes to speak to you now that you are awake.” She poured the dark fluid into one of the pretty cups. “Sugar? Cream?” Sasha nodded absently as if she had lived with a maid her whole life.
“What the hell happened?” Her anger was rising to the top now and she couldn’t hold it back.
“Oh Miss, you fainted on the streets and Mr. D’Alessandro and his driver brought you back here where his doctor was waiting.” She handed the cup to Sasha. It smelled fantastic like only true French coffee could. It was so hard to keep focused in this beautiful place. She had the feeling the longer she remained the more difficult it would be to leave.
“His doctor?” She really was living in a novel!
“Oui. Doctor Belamy is Mr. D’Alessandro’s personal doctor. He often stays here for weeks at a time. There are many guests who come and go and some of them tend to stay longer than others.” She smiled slyly as if she were aware she was gossiping. The girl simply saw her as another guest. A guest with an exciting story of fainting on the streets but a guest nonetheless.
“And what does the good doctor say about me?” Sasha sipped at the best coffee she had ever tasted.
“Simply that you fainted. Most likely exhaustion I think I heard him say.” She stopped when she realized Sasha was staring down at her without the slightest hint of amusement on her face. “You have been asleep for almost thirty five hours..” She smiled again. “I’m glad you are awake. The doctor said that what you needed was rest and proper nutrition and saw no need to move you from the hotel.” Strangely there was no strangeness between the two women. Sasha knew that the word ‘hotel’ was an old one used in France to signify enormous wealthy houses from the golden age. This was one of those houses. She could tell from all the woodwork and painting and even by the windows that this house must have been built between the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Probably someone associated with the royal court had the house built as a country estate. La Muette was just around the corner. Whose home was she in? Too many questions clouded her thinking and she mentally reprimanded herself and tried to focus on one thing at a time.
“Well, that was very nice of Mr. D’Alessandro to offer up his hospitality.” Finally she smiled but it was smug and insincere. “Where would he be at the moment?” She gulped down the last of the coffe and felt stronger and more determined to find out what was going on.
“He is in his study. He likes to read in the morning before his work commands all of his attention. I will go and tell him that you are awake.” She gave a slight curtsey.
“Thank you. You are very kind. Vous etes tres genial…merci encore.” This time her smile was real. It must have been the coffee that brought the civilized Sasha into play. She watched the girl depart and she quickly changed into her own clothing. She felt that if she stayed in this house any longer she would never even want to leave. It was somehow enchanted to her. She walked over to the windows and peered down onto the terrace. It was large and ran the whole length of the house and it was dotted with little tables and chairs here and there. To the left she could see the Eifel Tower across the river and looking out she saw the expanse of the garden. How was it possible that such an enormous private garden still existed in the city? Mr. D’Alessandro must be a billionaire to afford such luxury. She could have stayed there for a long time but reminded herself that there was much at hand. Maybe now she would get some of the answers to the strange events that head begun unfolding in her life leaving a wake of chaos. She tried hard to remember what happened before she fainted and found it impossible. The last thing she really remembered was picking up Taylor’s clothes. He must be worried sick about her. She reached inside her jacket and retrieved her cell. She quickly called the Hotel Thomieux and asked for hi
s room. The phone rang and rang. Her heart sank knowing that he was probably out in the streets of Paris looking for her. She would have to find him but first she wanted to meet this D’Alessandro character and demand some answers. She reluctantly left the window and sat down at the vanity to check her appearance. Once again she thought there was something new in her reflection that had not been there before today. Slowly the image in the reflecting glass began to change and she saw herself but she was also not herself. She was dressed in a kimono and had a long slender sword at her side. Her hair was cropped short and her skin was darkened and hardened by the elements. She looked like a female Samurai and she leapt up out of the seat as she watched her image return to it’s original façade. She remembered. She remembered the three men in the tunnel. She remembered how she had quickly turned the tables and almost killing them. She remembered her wise teacher and the monastery. She was dizzy again and quickly sat down on the edge of the bed. In on nano-second Sasha knew who she really was and what she was doing here after all. She knew who Marcus was and who Claire was and who Taylor really was. She stiffened her back as she thought of Taylor still out there alone in Paris where it was no longer safe for him. Celine would come for him without any doubt but now she would have to come through Sasha first. She sighed and relaxed her posture and lay back on the bed surveying the room that had been hers all along. She had finally come home.
PASSY
Celine and her husband Marcel waited until the last of the guests had departed before they began to look for the man who had shown up on the terrace. It didn’t take them long for the day was bright and crisp and they rode their horses through the woods until the dogs picked up the scent. They came upon a small encampment with a fire blazing and three figures were huddled around the flames searching for warmth. The snow was deep and the dogs bounded through the drifts in excitement as they started barking at the intruders. At the sound the three people stood up and regarded the regal pair with aprehension. One of them drew a sword. It was a woman.
“Please friends. Put down your weapons.” Celine spoke in a commanding manner that came naturally to her. “Please come into the house with us. You will find it much more comfortable than out here in this horrible weather.” She got off her horse and walked closer to them. There was the little man wrapped in his black coat wringing his hands together. His brows were knit together indoubt and anxiety. They were strangers trespassing on this land. Why was the woman being so nice to them? The woman with the sword had a cape with a fur lined hood. She removed the head covering to reveal a short cropped hairstyle completely out of fashion with the current times Her clothing suggested something exotic and Asian in appearance. The third figure was a tall man with a kind face and he had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and looked very much like a beggar one would find on the streets of Paris. The small man cleared his throat to speak.
“Please Madame. We don’t mean any trouble. My friends and I are on a quest. We are searching for something we believe may be on your property. We are not thieves.” He looked at the grand woman with the red hair and saw her smiling at him.
“My husband and I know what it is you search for. The spring lies underneath our house and is well protected. I have been waiting for you to come for ages and now you are here. We mean you no harm. If you’ll come up to the house we can discuss the matter further. My husband and I would like you to be our guests.” She watched them out of the corner of her eyes to see how they would react to such kindness. The three of them huddled together and discussed something in hushed whispers. The Count was watching his wife unable to believe how easily she lied and how cooly she manipulated her enemies.
“We will come. Your offer is most appreciated. I’m sure that we have much to talk about.” They began to gather their things when Celine stopped them.
“Don’t bother yourselves with that. My stablemen will come and gather them for you. Let’s get out of this cold and get you all inside.” They all followed her on foot as she returned to her white mare looking like a mythical creature in a world of snowy wonder.
Once inside she showed them all to their respective rooms full of richness and finery where they all bathed in warm water with soaps and scents from the finest shops in Paris. After a while they all met in the grand room in front of a roaring fire where Celine and her husband offered them a multitude of different foods prepared by the most skilled hands. There was pheasant and roast pig and all sorts of breads and cakes. The strangers had never seen food like this before and they all ate in an awkward silence that carried them quietly through the dinner. The woman with the sword would not touch the meat but ate much bread and fruit instead. Celine found her particularly fascinating. The trio had expected resistance and were even prepared for a fight and they were unsure of what to make of this odd welcome. When they had all finished eating Celine finally broke the silence and drove straight to the heart of the matter. She rang a bell which sounded thunderous echoing across the great room and one of her many servants came in bearing a large silver ewer with goblets that matched. They were all served one by one a glass of sparkling clear water. Cedline waited for the maid to leave before she began to speak.
“I believe this is what you came for.” She raised her glass and drained it entirely in one long fantastic motion. They all followed suit and it was obvious the effects the water was having upon them. The color returned to their cheeks and their eyes sparkled with renewed energy and light. The tall man reached for the pitcheer and helped himself to a second glass.
“By all means help yourselves to more. The supply is endless.” Celine’s face lit up with a wicked grin. “I don’t know how much you remember but obviously you remembered enough to come back to the source of your quest. But tell me, how did you know where to come?” She was eager for their explanation. The smaller of the two men took charge and answered her in a low voice.
“Madame we are in your debt. We have been searching for a long time for this water. My name is Rene DuBois and all my life I have been haunted by dreams of this water and this hill. Just last year something happened to me and I began to remember everything.” He lifted the crystal glass to his lips pausing his narrative for a moment.
“And just what did you remember?” Celine could barely contain herself.
“I remember Rome. I was a soldier in the army active in the northern campaigns to conquer the barbarians and bring their lands under the Roman Empire. I was traveling with my best friend from childhood who is now here.” He pointed to the tall quiet man. “He is from the New World in this lifetime but back then he was Roman just like me. We met on our travels a few weeks ago in search of this place. We both remembered taking the waters from a sacred temple carved in the hillside. We both remember you. You have not changed at all. You were the sorceress who guarded the waters and tried in vain to stop us from taking it. But you did not stop us and at the time if we knew what a curse was upon this sacred fountain we never would have dared attempt such an act.”
“A curse? My dear fellow you have got it all wrong! This is no curse but a blessing instead! Do you realize how long I have been alive? I am the same woman from the hill that you remember. It is apparent to me now that without the waters we die like ordinary mortals but if you continue to drink the waters as I have for centuries there is only life everlasting. Don’t you see? Now that you are home you never have to die again. This is a gift from the gods. A gift I am more than willing to share.” This time the woman with the short brown hair spoke for the first time. Her voice had a strong accent that was impossible to place. Celine had never heard anything like it.
“In exchange for what? No gift ever comes without attatchments.”
“Ah my poor dear how bitter you are! Who would have guessed that such a beautiful creature such as yourself would harbor such a dark soul? I ask nothing of you. Only that you keep our secret. If the rest of the world knew about these waters there would be a war to gain control of the pool of Locium.” Celine placed her
empty glass on the table before her. Her husband slowly refilled her glass watching her as if she were a stranger to him.
“The pool of Locium?” Rene questioned.
“That is what my people called it before your armies took our land from us.” For the first time her voice carried the hint of anger.
“We did not know what we were doing. We were only following orders Madame.” The tall quiet man finally spoke with a soft and lulling voice. His accent too was strange and for the first time Celine realized that he was a red skinned savage from the New World but his skin wasn’t red at all but a beautiful golden brown. She saw too how very handsome he was. He somehow softened her resolve.
“No I suppose not.” She smiled again. “This is all ancient history. Literally! The past is gone now and all we have is each other. I suggest that we form a pact to live together through the halls of eternity in this world that is ever changing. Can you imagine what it has been like for me to see the world become what it has? Do you realize what wonders and miracle await us in the years to come? We have become the gods now!” The ambition and power rose to the surface of her well constructed exterior and for a moment she came dangerously close to revealing herself.
“Isn’t that a little arrogant?” The woman spoke to Celine as if she were something beneath her which irritated Celine significantly. No one had ever spoken to her like this; not when she was high priestess nor when she was the Countess D’Aumont.
“Well, when you have lived as long as I have you can afford to be arrogant. But tell me how many times have you returned to this world? How many lives have you endured before finding the waters?” This time the woman to her right slumped down in her chair a little. The question contained a heaviness that she had been trying to ignor her entire life.
Immortal Beauty (The Immortals) Page 27
