Autumn's Calling (Book 2): The Battle

by Michelle Weese

  My eyes narrowed at him. I strained to show gratefulness when he said things like “my queen”. It was striking a nerve and caused me to twitch with irritation. Instead of bitching at him and causing myself more problems, I scooped a heaping pile of the steaming rice into my drooling mouth. It proved to be the most wonderful bowl of rice I had ever eaten. I hardly chewed it because I couldn’t wait for the next spoonful. Within a minute or so, the screech of metal scraping ceramic let me know I had devoured the entirety of my meal. I licked my lips and slumped back against the pillow in a post-eating bliss. Of course Alastor had to ruin the moment I was enjoying and open his big fat mouth.

  “I will accept that as satisfaction with this meal. Now here is some tea for you, if you like,” he suggested, passing me a chipped teacup filled to the brim with a golden brown liquid.

  I wrapped my hands around the cup, sighing with contentment at the warmth radiating from it. Pursing my lips, I let the steamy liquid flow into my already delighted mouth. The golden tea tasted like peppermint and drew me into another level of ecstasy. I forgot how much the little things meant, like a decent meal and a warm cup of tea. Except those rare treasures, I could enjoy every day of my life before, appeared seldom in the new world and became most sought after nowadays. Especially when you’ve been abducted by someone who understands nothing of human needs. Yes, he possesses a human form, but that doesn’t make him human. He had yet to eat or drink anything since he brought me to this hellish place. Except when he licked my blood from his fingers. But I doubt that would sustain a mortal body. Maybe if I was fortunate, he would be dumb enough to starve himself to death and I wouldn’t need to lift a finger against him.

  “Thank you, Alastor. This was much better than yesterday’s meal by a long shot,” I squeezed out.

  “You are more than welcome, my love. Only the best for you. Now, if you don’t mind, I would love for you to get dressed and accompany me. There is something I wish to show you,” he announced with a glimmer in his eye.

  “Get dressed? But I don’t have any clothes except these old rags you gave me,” I replied in confusion.

  “I discovered a special treat for you, my queen. One moment please,” he claimed as he rose and left the room in a hurry. He was barely gone a second when Lt. Fredericks stepped aside and the door swung open dramatically. Alastor swept back in with a long gown draped over his arms. He advanced to the edge of the bed and spread it across the footrest. I gawked at it in fascination, searching over every fold and stitch. The color interested me the most. A shimmering bold emerald. The color of my eyes.

  “Alastor. Where did you get this? It’s stunning,” I told him, looking up to meet his eyes. He displayed utter satisfaction with himself and instant regret followed my kind words.

  “I stumbled across it in one of the additional bedrooms in this wing. It must have been left behind by mistake when the former tenants passed. When I saw it, hanging alone in the wardrobe, I knew it was meant for you. The color matches your beautiful eyes perfectly,” he bragged.

  My hand reached out to stroke the fabric. Silky satin flowed under my palm as I petted the skirt like I would my sweet dog, Daisy. The thought of her caused my heart to ache. I quickly pushed the sentiment aside, struggling not to fall into that depression pit I’d been teetering on the edge of. Embellishments of opal and tiny pearls traced along the neckline of the gown. Emerald lace started at the shoulder and stretched the entire distance of each sleeve. A golden broach was pinned mid-breast and sparkled in the flickering light of the fire. I traced the design on the broach. A five-sided star encircled with crescent moons flanking each side. I gasped.

  “What is the matter, my love? Do you not like it?” he asked with concern creasing his forehead.

  I shook my head, “No, the dress is beautiful, Alastor. I just nicked my finger is all,” I lied, reluctant to admit the true reason for my surprise. This emblem is everywhere. Luna wanted me to learned what the symbols signified, but I’ve yet to figure them out.

  “I will leave the room while you dress. Call out if you require assistance,” Alastor said, turning on his heel and exiting the bedroom. My jaw fell open when he snapped his fingers and Lt. Fredericks followed him like a sick puppy. He was actually giving me true privacy. I sat staring at the door in shock before I realized I should perhaps stop sitting there like an idiot and utilize the time I had alone to prepare however I could.

  I pushed myself up from the bed, tore the filthy “borrowed” clothing from my tired body, and tossed it on the floor. The gown slipped over my head and settled on my shoulders. It hugged my frame perfectly like it was tailored for me. Several layers of silky fabric draped from my waist down to graze the floor. The lace sleeves covered my arms like a second skin. I extended my arm around to search for a zipper, only to find small buttons running up my spine from waist to neck. With an annoyed sigh, I tried fastening each one, missing a few in the center of my back that only contortionists could reach.

  I fastened the last button and ran my hands down the dress to smooth it out. The ball gown flowed like water around my body as I twirled around in small circles. The spirit of elegance washed over me and I held my head high like I was downright royalty. I soon remembered what a mess my hair must look. I pulled the elastic band from it and my mussed up braid unraveled. I worked my fingers through the wreckage of curls and let it fall around my shoulders. It was the best I could manage without a mirror to reflect on myself. After feeling as prepared as possible, I turned for the door, then stopped in my tracks.

  My hand shot up to the broach, and I circled my finger over the design again. It was my chance to take control of the situation. To defeat Alastor and free myself from such a miserable palace. My eyes settled on the blade that had burned under the spell from the grimoire. I whispered the incantation three times and the dagger in front of me came to life. My hand folded around it as the light blazed and a mighty jolt shot up my arm. It tore the oxygen from my lungs and my entire body tingled like a million ants swarming over me. I heard Luna’s whisper drift past like a feather caught in the breeze.

  “The magical blade will send the unholy back to which they come from. You must pierce the heart of their host or they will remain in our realm for all eternity.”

  The halo around the blade slowly faded until it was like any other weapon in the room. The prickling sensation passed, and I was left gripping a cold piece of metal. A rap on the door startled me from the daze I was in.

  “Just a minute please, I’m almost ready,” I called out.

  As I drew the floor-length skirt of the gown up, I slid the dagger into the waistband of my underwear. the best place I could think of that would be inconspicuous. The metal felt cool against my hip and the tip of the blade jabbed my thigh a little, but it would have to do. I released my dress, allowing the material to fall down, and returned the grimoire to the snug spot under my arm. I took a deep breath and aimed for the door. This was it. The moment had finally arrived that I would tempt my fate. I was going to dance dangerously with the devil.

  Chapter 14

  I turned the brass knob and swung the door open I had longed to escape through for many nights. My dress created a whooshing sound as the draft fluttered against it. I spotted Alastor, and my jaw hit the floor. He posed in the hallway, like a model from a shabby chic wedding magazine. Donning a full tuxedo, coattails and bow tie included, he leaned against a backdrop of vintage wallpaper with his arms crossed. His shimmering gold locks were tied back in a leather cord, leaving his face in bold lines. Chiseled cheekbones flowed into a defined square jaw and full pink lips. Tiger eyes penetrated mine as if he stared into my soul. I scooped my jaw off the floor, wiped the drool from my mouth, and finally formed words.

  “How in the hell did you have time to do all of this? You were gone for five minutes,” I questioned with an eyebrow raised as I retained a grip on myself.

  “Oh, I can manage to do many things when I set my mind to it, my queen,” he replied with
a suggestive smirk.

  An exasperated groan fell from my lips in response to the pet name he so adamantly used for me. He knew I hated it, but continued to use it every chance he had. My hand itched with the idea of plunging the dagger into his black heart. He may look like a woman’s wet dream, but I knew the truth about who he was. It’s more like a nightmare than a wet dream. He extended an elbow out and maneuvered so I had no choice but to loop my arm through his.

  “Shall we?” he asked rhetorically and led the way down the corridor.

  We walked through the old estate, following many twists and turns. Numerous paintings adorned each wall as we passed by, but one in particular captured my eye as we approached it. It featured a grand castle on a grassy knoll. The sky above hung dark and angry with swirling clouds. Red and yellow flames engulfed the ground below, reaching high into the first level of the fortress. A woman’s face was in the third level window. Long black hair cascaded down around her form. Her expression forever trapped in mid-scream as she awaited her impending death. She wore a green gown… precisely the one I now wore. The celestial broach rested between her breasts as it did mine. I gasped, reaching down to touch the pendant. How could it be that a woman inside the painting wore the exact dress several ages ago?

  “Where did you mention you found this dress, Alastor?” I asked while staring into the woman’s horror filled face.

  “As I stated before, my love, it was hanging in the wardrobe of a bedroom in another segment of the house,” he countered with a tug on my arm. “Come now. Your surprise awaits.”

  I reluctantly let it go and trailed along. That painting would be etched in my memory for a lifetime. The dark and threatening impression it left me with prickled the hair on my arms. More than anything, I wanted to reach in and save the woman from her impending fate. I know, it's impossible, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of the lifelike painting. Alastor seemed determined to get me to my surprise and hauled me through the old mansion until I lost count of all the turns we had made. My thoughts continued jumping back to the painting, making me unfocused when I needed to be remembering what was where for when I had the opportunity to escape.

  We soon reached a staircase descending to the next level. I was so busy looking down, ensuring the dress didn't trip me and send me flying in embarrassment down the steps, to notice of the horde of biters stumbling around the landing below us. Halfway down, I glanced up and froze in my tracks. Alastor tried pulling me forward, but I stood my ground.

  “What is the problem, my sweet?” he asked me with an almost genuine concern.

  “I will not go traipsing willingly into an army of flesh-eaters, Alastor,” I retorted with a shaky voice. This many of them within such proximity made me quite nervous without a suitable weapon. Sure I could draw the dagger, but that would give away my master plan to use it on him.

  “They will not harm a hair on your lovely head, Autumn. Unless I order them to do so,” he declared.

  “Well, that’s not very reassuring. Pardon me for saying so, but you haven’t exactly been the most trustworthy person, Alastor. How do I know this isn’t a trick and you’ll hand me over to them like a steak on a silver platter?” I scoffed.

  His eyes darkened as he replied, “Granted If I ever decide to ‘hand you over’ to my army of dead, it will not be on an inadequate and indescribable staircase to a measly handful of them. But in a magnificent place appropriate for a queen to an endless mass of famished fiends. Of that, I can assure you.”

  “That just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside,” I said as sarcasm dripped from my tongue.

  “Enough stalling, come.”

  The only option was to trust that he wouldn’t feed me to the wolves… yet. So I sucked in a deep breath and resumed my journey forward against my will. As we approached the last step, the horde parted like the red sea and left a clear path for us to pass through. My shock was obvious at the reaction they had to him. I looked up and caught the arrogant smirk on his face. My palm convulsed with the urge to slap him but I fought the persistent impulse. I risked a peek at the undead we passed by. They remained steadfast like sculptures and eyes forward like obedient little soldiers. The stench that pervaded the space was overwhelming to say the least. A mixture of blood, death and decay crawled up my nose. My stomach threatened to expel what little food I had put in it. I swallowed my disgust back down with an audible gulp and carried on. If only I had some air freshener.

  When we finally pushed through the mob and rounded the corner, an impressive statue filled my line of sight. I took a moment to recognize what the beautiful ten-foot specimen of carved marble artwork was. Selene, the moon goddess. The reason I knew this was because of the Greek mythology class I attended in college. Selene sat atop her glorious steed with her lunar crescent crown adorning her head. She was created from the whitest of marble with golden veins running throughout. Something about the sculpture was magnetic. Compulsion forced me to reach out and caress it. My hand grazed the smooth cold stone and a jolt of power struck my fingertips, causing them to tingle. The moon goddess wanted to be touched. She needed to be worshiped for the celestial being she was. I brushed my hand over the contour of her horse’s head, the delicious tingle following my every move, until Alastor grabbed me and drew me in close. I gasped as he yanked me out of the trance Selene had placed me in. Our bodies touched from chest to waist as he whispered softly.

  “Do you sense the magic? The power in the atmosphere? It is like a brush of the wind or the warmth of the sun against your flesh, isn’t it?” he asked with a wondrous gaze into my eyes. “You are sensitive to the energy. It speaks to you. This is how I am positive you are meant to be my queen.”

  I preferred to answer with a snarky comment, but I honestly couldn’t come up with anything. I was lightheaded from the power. It flowed along my skin like an electric current. After a moment, the sensation faded, and I felt normal again. I leaned away from Alastor, the closeness making me uncomfortable, and took two steps back.

  “Didn't you have a surprise for me?” I said, hoping to change the subject.

  “Of course, my queen. Right this way,” he responded and offered his elbow to slip my arm through once again. As we proceeded forward, I threw another glance behind at the enchanting moon goddess, and I would swear that the statue moved slightly. Perhaps that was the aftereffects of being power drunk, or at least I hoped so.

  We traveled through another segment of the estate, each hallway looking similar to the last after each turn, until we rounded one final corner and dread washed over me. We stood in that despicable hallway from my nightmare once again. Gas lanterns blazed along the decrepit stained walls, their light dancing across the fractured ceiling. The tattered lace curtains draped from the various windows. The moon seemed larger than usual as it peeked through, projecting a ghostly glow behind the torn lace. I peered down to find the claw marks stretched across the wooden floor boards. At last, the daunting door at the end loomed over us as we advanced. Fear lodged itself in my throat like a pill too big to swallow when I remembered the frightening scene awaiting me behind that door in my nightmare. I suddenly couldn’t prevent the tremble of panic that flowed through my body.

  “Are you all right? It is only a door. Nothing will harm you, my love. Come, see your surprise I have waiting,” he coaxed. I blew out the breath I had been holding and stepped forward. I would not cower to a door. My virtue is greater than that.

  Alastor twisted the doorknob and drove the heavy slab of wood outward. As soon as we entered the room, music began playing softly. We were in the massive ballroom once again. The ivory fireplace was flickering on the far wall. All the tables lingered with their moth-eaten table cloths. It disturbed me when I realized the sweet melody was issuing from a real live string quartet sat up beside the dance floor. Well, not exactly live. They were undead musicians that Alastor must have given enough vitality to so they could perform for us like puppets on a string. He was the puppet master. Once my frazzled brai
n grasped what was happening, I exploded into a fit of laughter. Insanity erupted from within and spilled forth from my mouth in a hair-raising cackle. I doubled over with stomach cramps from laughing so hard. Tears streamed from my eyes and blurred my vision which caused me to giggle even more. This was it. I had certainly lost my marbles.

  After being tossed into a whirlwind of zombies taking over the world. Kidnapped and chained in a cellar. Attempting, yet failing, suicide. Swimming in the infamous lake of fire. Meeting the leader of a witch’s coven. Rescued by my demon captor from the grips of death. Injected with demon blood. Confined to a small room with only a bedpan to piss and shit in. Alastor declaring his eternal love for me and urging me to be his demon queen. Now, he has created an orchestra of zombies to play sweet music to us as we danced the night away. The last ounce of sanity whisked away like a balloon to the heavens as I stood there wiping the tears of madness from my cheeks.

  “Is everything all right, Autumn?” he asked. For the first time since we met, he looked at me with a smidge of fear in his eyes. I reveled in that look. He put me through literal hell, and now was my chance to return the favor. Now he drove me to lunacy, an attribute he understood all too well.

  I grinned up at him and replied, “Fucking peachy. Are we gonna dance or what?”

  Then I strolled onto the dance floor without looking back.

  Chapter 15

  Alastor followed me with a puzzled look on his face. He was unsure of himself for the first time and the discomfort he displayed caused me to giggle once again. I patiently waited until he reached the center of the dance floor then stepped up to him. He gazed into my eyes as I moved in close and placed one hand to his shoulder. He took a deep breath and clutched my opposite hand. We twisted and twirled around the platform to the melancholic symphony playing solely for our entertainment. I showed off my waltzing skills from a ballroom class I attended back when Luke and I planned to get hitched. Never bothered to put them to use until now. Although, I would have never anticipated my first time waltzing outside of class to be in the presence of a demon and a zombie string quartet.