In The Depths: A Novel (DeSai Trilogy) Vampire legends

by RWK Clark

  “Shirley. I am bringing your future queen,” he told her.

  The statement was met with silence, and he knew that she was turning the information over in her head. None of his new family had any idea that he had spent his entire existence seeking one true mate, and he knew that learning this provided a whole new perspective about the existence of the species for them.

  It was time they learned. They would need to honor Rasia as they honored him. He knew that jealousy would abound, but that was why Rasia’s strong personality appealed to him so. Petty quarrels would not bother her in the slightest. She would shrug them off effortlessly, much like she had tried to do to him.

  “It will all be fine, Shirley. You’ll see, once she gets established you will all have the mother-figure in your lives that you so desperately need,” he said. “I’ll let you get on with your day now, and I’ll be seeing you this afternoon.”

  He hung up the phone just as Martin Lamb knocked at the door.

  “President, the car is preparing to leave to fetch Ms. Engres. Will you be riding to get her?”

  He shook his head and stood, straightening his tie as he did so. “No, Martin. I’ll stay here and duck into the kitchen; I want to be sure they are preparing the quiche I requested properly.”

  The two men left the Oval Office and went their separate ways. DeSai realized he was humming to himself, and it amused him. When was the last time he had felt so… alive? He knew; it had been the day his wife died so many years ago.

  Finally, he had found what he had been looking for, and Master Cyril DeSai was more than ready to get on with the next chapter of his eternity.

  ∞

  Rasia had continued working on her article until seven, and then she stopped to get ready to go with DeSai for the day. She did her makeup first, then curled her hair into a casual look, moving some strands forward to compliment the shape of her face. She chose a simple white jersey dress and white pumps. She looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror in the bathroom and smiled. She outdid herself; she looked amazing.

  She fully intended to use Cyril DeSai until there was nothing more to use. She was going to make out like a bandit on this deal; for all she knew she wouldn’t even need to worry about her career anymore. Becoming the editor of the ‘Post’ seemed like silliness to her now. She could feel it in her bones; she knew her future held incredible things for her now that she had met Cyril DeSai, and none of it had to do with love.

  But she did feel something for the man, and it seemed to be growing. Well, what if she was growing fond of him? Wouldn’t that only make the execution of all her plans more livable and enjoyable for her? She was sure it wasn’t love, but it was certainly a very pleasing feeling.

  She transferred the contents of her purse into a smaller white bag with gold metal embellishments, and then put on a pearl necklace and earrings. She grabbed up her key card and left her room, a smug smile of satisfaction on her face.

  The ride to the White House was quiet and comfortable, and when they arrived there were no Secret Service waiting to escort her to the President. The driver simply asked her if she remembered how to get to the dining area and then took her to the elevator.

  She walked into the dining room and DeSai’s eyes lit up immediately. “Hello! It is so good to see you. I was getting a bit anxious waiting. How has your morning been so far?”

  “Very good,” she replied. She couldn’t help but smile at him; he was so pleased to see her. She approached him as he pulled her chair out, and she stopped before him. Rasia then leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

  He felt his face flush at the touch of her lips, and for a fraction of a second he thought his knees might buckle. This was going even better than he had hoped. He had no more expected her simple kiss than he expected her to take flight. He laughed to himself; soon enough she would be taking flight.

  DeSai took his place and looked at her. “I hope you like quiche. You haven’t eaten, have you?”

  “I had a bit of fruit very early this morning, but I am ravenous now. Quiche sounds delicious,” she replied. “I thought about you quite a bit last night, Mr. DeSai.”

  That got his attention. “What did you think about?”

  Rasia played coy, smiling shyly as she unfolded her napkin. “I guess I enjoyed your company.”

  Cyril was beaming at this revelation, and even as the servant came into the room to serve the quiche he stared at her and smiled.

  Soon they were eating, and Rasia was being smooth and entertaining. She gave him her full attention when he spoke, and she used humor like a weapon. She had him laughing freely, and she was laughing with him. She stopped avoiding his gaze, and she found that the more he looked at her the freer she felt. DeSai was going to be a good time indeed.

  After their meal he took her on a full tour of the White House, showing her everything from the inner kitchen to the offices. Finally he took her to his living quarters, and she was impressed with his taste. They relaxed on the terrace with mimosas, and they enjoyed each other’s company immensely.

  “How is your cameraman?” DeSai needed to play off the fact that the man had not been seen by him since they left their first night here. “Is he ill?”

  Rasia smiled and took a sip of her drink. “He disappeared on me. I’m beginning to think he met a woman and decided he liked her company more than mine. I have to admit, I can be a bit of a dragon lady with those who work for me and with me.”

  “I’m sure you can.” He chuckled at the fact. “Do you expect him to show back up at the last minute?” asked Cyril.

  She shook her head. “To be honest I couldn’t care less if he did. He doesn’t work for me anymore; I’m pretty sure he knows that.”

  “Yes, I’m sure he does,” replied DeSai. “Well, on a lighter note, I called my previous assistant at the winery, and they are expecting us. Not only will you love Cliffside for the wine, Rasia, I believe the entire place will be a wonderful treat for you in all aspects.”

  She smiled. “Well, I must say I am relieved you asked me to your winery instead of offering to take me to the zoo.”

  This made Cyril laugh out loud, a rich, hearty laugh. “Your mind appeals to me so much, Rasia” he said. “I thought that today I would take you to Cliffside Wineries and show you its inner workings because I believe you will genuinely appreciate its workings. I am also very, very proud of my personal office there. It has some exquisite antiques. I have worked for many, many years to get the right aesthetic there.”

  “I am very much looking forward to the trip to your beloved winery, Cyril,” she said. He took immediate notice of the fact that she called him by his first name, and it warmed his cold heart. He found himself hoping that he would hear her saying it for all eternity.

  They each had another mimosa before taking a walk through the White House gardens. DeSai introduced her to every member of his staff that they encountered, and he made sure to include her in every conversation, no matter how small. She was swept off her feet by him, but it was not romantic in nature, of that Rasia was sure. She was impressed with his power, the way he carried himself, and the way those in his charge responded to his authority. Yes, this could be very good indeed.

  “Rasia, I need to meet with my personal assistant briefly before we leave. Do you mind?” He had led her into his living space. “Feel free to watch television or listen to music if you like. I can also take you to the library if you’d rather wait there?”

  Her eyes lit up; she did love books. “Yes, that would be wonderful,” she replied, and with that he led her off down the hall and into the library.

  Rasia found the library to be quite beautiful and astounding. While Cyril was gone she browsed the book collection there and found that there were some priceless items on the shelves. She touched their bindings, stroking some of her favorites as though they were old lovers. This had to be the best room she had been in so far at this place, and its existence made her never want to leave. />
  DeSai returned after about a half-hour. “Are you ready for our little journey?” he asked, and she simply nodded and took his arm.

  “Do you like books, Cyril?” She was staring up at him, eagerly awaiting his response.

  “Yes, but I don’t get to read as much as I would like,” he replied. “You are free to visit anytime you like, Rasia. Anytime at all.”

  As they walked to the chopper DeSai came to the firm conclusion that he had made a wonderful choice in Rasia Engres.

  Chapter 23

  The helicopter ride to Cliffside was filled with conversation and laughter. If Cyril was not entertaining her with funny anecdotes then Rasia was using her quirky brand of humor to impress him. So much did they laugh that they decided to stop during the trip and get some fresh air. Cyril made it a point to purchase a bouquet of flowers for Rasia, and he chose perfect orchids. He also bought a nosegay of daisies for Shirley Louis; it wouldn’t do to not acknowledge her with her favorite flower.

  Finally the pair arrived at Cliffside. “The first thing on the agenda is to take you on the grand tour,” Cyril announced. He took her by the hand as they walked up the main stairs to the entrance. “You will get to meet my dependable team, and you will get to taste and see why Cliffside makes what I consider to be the very best wine in the world.”

  Rasia found that she was beside herself with excitement. Could she have tracked down a more perfect male specimen? Rich, handsome, intelligent, and a lover of fine wine to boot? She was on cloud nine, even as he showed her the main building and introduced her to the staff as they encountered them.

  It all could have been a dream, and it occurred to Rasia that she very well may be in love.

  When they had been in every room in the main building they went into the cellars where the wine was bottled and stored for aging. Here Rasia was able to sample as much wine as she wanted, and her first choice was the rich red Malbec.

  “It is so delicious,” she said as the warmth of the drink coursed through her body, and Cyril beamed with pride.

  After giving her a nod he said, “My reds are some of the finest on Earth. Do you prefer red over white, Rasia?”

  “Absolutely,” she replied. “The color alone is enough to mesmerize me. I will partake of white for the sake of the food being served, obviously, but when I imbibe socially I choose reds.”

  This pleased him to no end. She would love what she would become then, of that much he was certain. The color of blood was very similar, and it tended to sparkle when it was in a glass as well. Once she was turned it would be the aroma and flavor that she would love; she was that kind of woman.

  After walking the grounds and seeing the vineyards the two finally made their way back to the main building. With the tour over Rasia would be getting hungry for dinner. Feeding her and letting her enjoy the wine would ensure that she felt completely comfortable with going to his office alone with him, and he was starting to believe that she was nearly there already. How her attitude had changed in the last few days! It was almost unbelievable.

  He wanted to take her to his private office for more than sex. He wanted to tell her the truth. Cyril needed to test her responses to the hard reality of not only who and what he really was, but also what he expected her to become for him. He would indeed make love to her there, and he would administer the bite that would turn her.

  Cyril held the door for Rasia as they entered the winery’s main building, and for the second time that day she was afforded a moment to admire the darkness and beauty of the art and sculpture which adorned the walls and pedestals in the entryway. She had always had a taste for the macabre, and seeing how Cyril did as well pleased her very much. His taste was fully exquisite, and it came out of him in every way possible.

  Once they reached the dining area they were flooded with the royal treatment once again, even more than they were at the White House. It seemed every time she turned around someone was at her elbow filling her wine glass, clearing her plate, or asking if she needed anything. She was overwhelmed by the attention and the plush surroundings. She found herself wondering for a fleeting moment what it would be like if all of this was hers and hers alone. Well, it was far too early to get ahead of herself she knew.

  Cyril, on the other hand, was completely enraptured with the woman before him. While he was at a loss as to how she affected him the way she did, he was too happy to care about his confusion. He wanted to impress her; he wanted to possess her. Every word he said and thing he did was motivated in pleasing Rasia Engres. He drifted off in thought more than once, considering what her sweet love would be like.

  They dined on rare Porterhouse steaks, baked potatoes, and fresh sweet corn off the cob. When the server had asked Rasia how she wanted her steak she had ordered hers rare before Cyril had ordered his own the same, and his heart skipped a beat.

  “A woman after my own heart,” said Cyril, watching her closely. “I have never met one who liked her meat the same way I do. What about it do you enjoy, may I ask?”

  Rasia smiled and looked him in the eye. “I like to taste the death, Cyril.”

  His lips curled into a somewhat evil smile. This woman was far more than perfect; she was made for him and him alone.

  They ate in silence, but DeSai couldn’t stop sneaking looks at her during the meal. She seemed oblivious to his own presence, however, but this didn’t bother the Master at all. Soon enough he would be her sole obsession.

  But Rasia knew that he was there; she could practically feel the force of his existence! She wanted to share herself with him, the Rasia that no one was aware existed. The evil, self-indulgent, and cruel woman that she really was. How would he respond to her? Surely he would wash his hands of Rasia Engres right away.

  At the very end of the meal she was introduced to Shirley Louis, the administrative assistant. The woman was cordial, and even tried to be warm, but Rasia was very familiar with the ‘catty’ behavior of other females, especially around her. She sensed it in Shirley, and it pleased her.

  As they walked back down the hall to the main entrance Cyril took her down another corridor to the right. “I almost forgot to show you the winery museum and gift shop. It is filled with family artifacts, as well as mementos for the tourists to buy,” he said, his voice eager. “We recently located both to this wing, and I often forget about them.”

  The museum was filled with historical items, though family documents and memorabilia seemed a bit vague and scant to Rasia. As he showed her grainy photos and paperwork she took note that his ancestors were nearly all named Cyril, and she brought it up.

  “Yes,” he explained. “It is our tradition to name the firstborn son after the father.” He would not tell her the whole truth until they were safely in the office below. The truth that revealed the fact that all of them were, in reality, he himself.

  The gift shop was what one would expect. It was simple, and sold souvenirs for the public. The winery was usually open to the public for touring seven days a week, but he made her aware that he had called off touring for the day so she could visit and they could have the place to themselves.

  They went into a plush conference room next, located near the front of the building. Here he pulled out a seat for her and then proceeded to pour them both another glass of wine.

  “Shiraz, this time Rasia,” Cyril said as he held a full glass out to her. “I believe it is your preference?”

  “Cyril, if I didn’t know better I would think you were trying to get me drunk,” she said to him, a sexy smile on her face.

  “My dear, you are a smart one indeed.” He would not start his eternity with this woman with lies; he simply used his own humor and agreed. “I have horses here. Let’s take a carriage ride, shall we?”

  They both drank the Shiraz, quickly draining their glasses, then Cyril filled her glass with a nice merlot and they made their way through the building, coming out in a large pasture. It was fenced, and there was a large stable building to one side. Cyril took
Rasia by the hand and smiled. “This should be very romantic. Have you ever taken a carriage ride through the countryside before?”

  “No, I haven’t,” she said. She took another sip of her wine and began to walk with him toward the stables.

  The carriage was ready for them when they arrived; he was an exceptional planner. In minutes she was seated on quilted satin on a carriage that looked to be hundreds of years old, yet it could have just been made, it was in such perfect condition.

  “You are a collector of many things, are you not?” she asked him, looking at him closely.

  He stared back at her smiling. Then they took off out of the stables like a shot, the wind in their faces.

  Cyril DeSai was head over heels in love, and Rasia Engres was right on his heels.

  Chapter 24

  They rode the carriage all along the countryside around the winery. He showed her a variety of things, from some of the cliffs to the sands of the sea shore. He showed her trees and birds, and they sat in the grass together talking and laughing for most of the early afternoon.

  It was then, seated on the grass under a massive willow, that Rasia Engres came to a very strong realization: she was, most definitely, in love with Cyril DeSai, winemaker and president of the United States of America. She knew with certainty that this was exactly what the emotion felt like, and it was intoxicating.

  Now it was time to return to the winery, and Rasia was getting excited to see his office. While she didn’t have a particular knowledge of antiques, she knew that his taste in art was outstanding. If his office décor was anything like the things he had displayed in the corridors she was in for a treat indeed.

  During the carriage ride back she began to speak to him about her days as a girl, but she kept things superficial. She didn’t bring up her parents because she didn’t want her voice to give away the hatred she felt for them. Instead she told him about how she came to study journalism, and she even indulged a bit of her future aspirations to him. She was trusting him, and she felt a rush at the intimacy. What had she been missing her whole life?