Of course, the reciprocal was also true. She is always properly deferential to my position and respectful of my power, especially in the company of other revenants, but she has never treated me as a demigod, as was clearly evident by her next statement.
You’re being childish.
“Really?” I laughed bitterly, using spoken word out of spite. “I’m not the only one,” I observed flatly, turning to face her. Anger flared in her brown eyes, her mouth setting into a thin line. Then, like a puff of smoke, it was gone. I would say that, at the time, Phobos knew me almost as well as Gisele did, and because of that, she realized anger was the wrong track to rail her train on.
A wise perception.
It’s not like that, she persisted warmly, her hand loosening on my arm even though she left it there. I shot her an acid look that made her look away for a moment. Perhaps at first, she admitted, but not now. It has evolved. Her honesty finished off my anger, and I sighed deeply. How many more surprises was I going to walk into today?
You could've told me, I announced wearily, plopping down onto her bed. It groaned under my weight, summoning sweet and intimate memories, and I reached out with my hand to idly trace the folds in the rumpled fabric.
I should have, she admitted softly. That was also childishness. Mine.
I started at the pain in her mental voice, and I looked at her carefully. Does Gisele bother you that much?
She shrugged. It's more about you than her.
Me? I returned quickly, stunned. For the life of me, I could not understand what she meant, or more to the point, I didn’t want to understand. My guilt card was all filled up; I did not need any more.
Yes, you! she snapped, her eyes narrowing. Then she sighed, a Blood tear falling from the corner of her left eye. And me, she admitted softly, her mind’s voice now full of anguish. To say that I was completely confused would have been an understatement. Seeing her pain blurred everything into a confusing mix of color and emotion.
I’m confused, Sweet, I offered truthfully, my hand reaching out to stroke her face. She retreated a step, pushing my hand away.
No, she commanded firmly, her face resolute. This is difficult enough. She took a deep breath, and I jerked my hand back as if she had attempted to cut it off. She took another breath, letting it out slowly, fortifying herself. You’ll never love me as you love her. I can admit that now, to myself and you. We’ll never be on the same level, and that holds us apart. My failure, though no fault of my own, angers and hurts me, and I can’t live with it anymore. I hope you understand, Sweet, she pleaded, her eyes imploring me to understand.
I was miserable, mostly because I did understand, and I wished I could refute her statement. A dull pain pressed against my chest with the weight of a thousand unspoken words and feelings, but I nodded slowly. I was right; I didn't want to understand and pile more guilt on my already considerable burden. I understand, Sweet, but understand this. You’ll always hold a special place in my heart. I had no right to tell her that, to make it harder for her, but I couldn’t help it. My anguish demanded no less, and my guilt paved the way and installed blinking lights to mark the road.
Misery truly loves company.
She closed her eyes, hugging herself, and Blood tears spilled freely from beneath her lids. Her manifestation of pain was so great that I pulled her roughly into my arms. She fought me for a moment and then sagged against me, sobbing. We remained that way until she stopped crying and pulled away. I let her. I don’t want you to be angry with me, she intoned softly, her eyes clear and brilliant.
I’m not, Sweet. I’m sad. I’ll miss our talks.
Phobos immediately shook her head, placing her hand on my chest. I don’t want that. I'll always treasure them. Why can’t we confine our relationship to certain boundaries?
“You just want to be friends?” I murmured dryly, having never heard that from a female before, mortal or immortal. The situation now seemed laughable to me, and I couldn’t stop the laughter that followed. My laughter confused her, and concern darkened her features. As you wish, Sweet, I offered between fits of laughter until I finally managed to rein in my humor with iron will. As you wish, I repeated warmly, threads of humor weaving through my words anyway.
She regarded me oddly for a moment, trying to determine if I was sincere. I was, determined to give her that much. I dropped a chaste kiss on her forehead, smiling, and then I left her chamber, surprisingly calm and collected about the whole thing. That is, until I ran into Kane. I’d hoped to avoid any further contact with him tonight, but that was apparently not in the cards. He was standing at the end of the corridor, next to the entrance to a small, common chamber, watching and actually waiting for my approach.
I glowered at him as I stepped up to him, purposely invading his physical space. Watching him pale, I felt like a bully; well, I was being a bully, but I couldn’t stop myself. Though I was able to accept Phobos’ choices, and if you think about it, my choices, too, the reality of them still stung a bit. I felt a little better knowing that Phobos’ Blood had already strengthened him and would continue to strengthen him. He was so pitifully weak, comparatively speaking, and I hate picking on the weak ones.
Not like that ever stops me from doing it.
“I swear I didn’t do this to get back at you, Jason. I swear,” Kane volunteered, fear thick in his voice, and he was right to be afraid. I was inexplicably angry with him, as if he had somehow betrayed me; as if he were somehow responsible for Phobos’ feelings, which was utterly absurd because no one was responsible but Phobos and me. Unfortunately, logic didn’t mean a whole hell of a lot to me at that moment, and I knew that if he told me he loved her, I’d snap and do something that could never be undone.
With blazing speed, I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him close before he had time to comprehend or speak another word. “Next time, tell me before I find out another way,” I snarled, our noses touching. “It’s called courtesy.” I released him, enjoying the heightened fear in his posture so much that I almost felt guilty about it. Almost. I enjoyed it even more when his fear was replaced by a simmering anger that suddenly came to a boil.
Sometimes I can be a complete ass.
“I find it funny that you should talk to me of courtesy, brother,” Kane spat, though he didn’t find anything about this situation funny in the least. To his credit, he regretted the words as soon as he uttered them, even before I made him regret them further. They had been a defensive reaction, but their sole purpose had been to wound me, and I’d had enough wounding for one evening.
My arm blurred as I struck him, and he went flying through the open doorway and into the chamber proper. He bounced a few times on the packed floor before rolling to a halt against a heavy, roughhewn chair.
The sudden violence made Phobos want to intervene, but she forced herself to stay in her bedroom. She knew this had to work itself out if I was ever going to accept this new development, and her interference would only make it worse. I think she also knew that the small part of my brain still capable of rational thought wouldn’t let me hurt Kane too badly, if only because I wouldn’t allow myself to cause her any further pain.
“Want that courtesy now?” I shouted, rage rolling off my body in sweltering waves. “Want me to undo what I did?” I hollered, my voice echoing off the walls and throughout the caverns. How I wanted to set him ablaze at that moment! It would've taken little more than a mental projection on my part. I might have made a big mistake Converting him, but I’d done it as much for him as for me, and I was tired of being punished for it. Living as anything was preferable to dying.
At least, that’s what I tell myself.
Kane scrambled to his feet, his collarbone broken and his left shoulder hanging lower than his right. He winced as he straightened, head bowed in submission. He clearly wanted no more of this, and one thing Kane had always been good at was taking his beatings with stoic composure, a composure that only served to heighten my anger. Well, that’s not entirel
y true. My anger never seems to have any trouble heightening itself.
“No,” he whispered miserably, probably the single most difficult word he’s ever had to utter, but I didn’t, couldn’t, back off.
“I didn’t think so,” I retorted bitterly, my eyes narrow. “Remember that before you shoot your fucking mouth off again,” I warned, pointing my finger at him, which, thankfully, wasn’t trembling with my rage. He bowed his head lower in defeat, saying nothing, and I was gone, needing to be far away from him before I lost my mind.
◆◆◆
Before I managed to calm myself enough to begin thinking about what I was doing or where I was going, I was outside the recessed entrance to the Ancients’ chamber. In my particularly fragile state of mind, an encounter with Octavian wasn’t the smartest of ideas, but after what I’d done to him, it was pretty much expected that I check on him before leaving the Ekhaya.
With a sigh, I lowered myself gently to the deep antechamber, a good sixty feet below the cavern proper. As my feet touched the soft earth, I could feel Octavian and Celeste in the deep cavern on the other side of the arched entrance. They weren’t speaking, and for the first time, Octavian’s shield was absent. His thoughts were weak and random, and Celeste was worried for him.
I entered the chamber, large torches burning brightly, the sweet smell of their resin filling the air. They had been lit and maintained since long before the Ancients awoke, and no one had ever bothered to put them out afterward. The heat warmed my exposed skin, and I was once again aware of the powerful tide of hunger repeatedly crashing over me.
I walked toward them, Celeste perched on the edge of Octavian’s sarcophagus. There were five ornate marble sarcophagi in the chamber, arranged in a semicircle with Octavian’s sarcophagus at the head of the arrangement. The chamber itself boasted a cathedral ceiling high enough to be coated with a seemingly magical shadow, impervious even to revenant vision.
Celeste looked up at me as I approached, her face neutral yet sporting its perpetual scowl. Octavian lay still, only his eyes moving to look at me, and there was no defiance in them anymore. He was completely broken, in spirit and will. “How are you?” I asked softly, no longer feeling any guilt over what I’d done. More than anything, I was still seething over my encounter with Kane, and not much gets through my wall of anger.
Octavian’s eyes flicked to Celeste, who answered for him. “He is stronger now, but the wound was tremendous.”
I nodded, realizing that she meant the wound to his pride above all. “Do you need more Blood?” I asked, insisting on speaking to Octavian, though he obviously wasn’t going to answer me. I figured that I’d done enough to him; I didn’t need to speak about him as if he weren’t even there.
Apparently, he understood this. “I need rest,” he said at length, his voice tired. “I need Slumber.” Revenants have two modes of sleep. One is the Slumber brought about by the sun, the other is sleep, similar to your mortal sleep during the night hours. He needed the oblivion of Slumber, the almost complete shutdown of his revenant body.
“It’ll come, Octavian,” I replied, the only thing I could think of that didn’t sound too condescending. Why I cared, I didn’t know, but my father always taught me not to kick a man while he’s down, even if he deserves it. Just one of the many lessons I've carried through my Conversion.
“It always comes,” Octavian agreed, the ghost of a smile dancing across his lips. “Now you have checked on me, Jason. I will survive, as I have always, and you are obligated no further.” I imagine that he tried to snap at me while delivering this line, but his voice was too weak to carry any sort of edge.
“I wish that were true,” I replied sincerely, my voice weary from battling both my anger and the incredibly persistent BloodHunger. “However, there is another matter that must be discussed before I leave.” Celeste shot me a sharp look, but I ignored it. Ignoring Celeste was fairly easy, and I’d had a great deal of practice. As distasteful as the issue was, it needed to be addressed and resolved, and it couldn't wait. I locked my eyes on Octavian’s face, watching his reaction as he realized what I was talking about. His face fell with the revelation, but there was no anger.
“My position,” he whispered, raw pain in his voice. I don't think Octavian had ever even entertained this thought before... well, before me.
“I’m afraid I pretty much destroyed any control you might’ve had over the Ekhaya. In my absence, they should listen to you, and that’s not going to happen now. It won’t be long before they all challenge you on something or other, and I don’t want or need you leaving a trail of corpses in your wake, nor do I particularly want to deal with them demanding my intervention. This must be laid to rest now.” I gave him the courtesy of looking at him while I spoke, though I really wanted to survey Celeste.
Octavian mulled this over, and Celeste made a move to object, but Octavian put his hand on her arm. “Hush,” he commanded softly. “He’s right. There will be little regard for me now, and I fear I will have even less patience and tolerance of dissension,” he began. “If that’s even possible,” he added with a small smile. I was stunned. Was the old Octavian completely gone? Was I solely responsible for breaking him so thoroughly?
Octavian’s smile grew as he read my thoughts. “I'd like to believe that the both of us were responsible, your err... demonstration and my good sense. Even if it’s fallacy, you’ll permit me to keep that twisted perception, won't you?”
“Your secret’s safe with me, Octavian,” I answered softly, my own smile coming out.
Octavian nodded. “Good. Azriel can assume my former duties.”
“Agreed,” I said at once, preparing to leave them. I began to turn and leave when Octavian called out to me. I stopped and turned, gesturing for him to continue.
“For what it’s worth, you now have my support.” I was mightily impressed by how steady his voice was, and I tipped my head in acknowledgment. I turned my wordless attention to Celeste, who was actually scowling at me; it wasn’t just some illusion of her face and the dancing light. Obviously, she didn’t enjoy being forced to accept my rule, though I really didn’t care; I neither required nor expected her consent. On some deep, murky level, I suppose I even wanted her to rebel so I could work off some of my rage over Kane and Phobos.
“I’ll follow you, but be warned, I'll not tolerate this sort of thing again,” she said bitterly, referring to my battle with Octavian.
“Celeste,” Octavian sighed, his voice weary. I laughed at her, and her eyes narrowed even further. She had gone far beyond what I'd expected, and it was actually laughable, nearly as laughable as when mortals threatened me. It was too rich.
“You forget yourself, Celeste. You're in no position to make threats.” In a blur I was upon her, lifting her from the edge of Octavian’s sarcophagus and pushing her into the packed earthen wall almost twenty feet away. I looked back at Octavian, who sat up weakly, and I held out my free hand at him. “Don’t you dare fucking move,” I commanded, my voice low and my tone such that he instantly obeyed.
Noting his acquiescence, I turned back to Celeste, who was snarling and trying vainly to break free of my grip. “And you!” I growled. “Keep this up, and you’ll leave me no choice. Do I have to finish his lesson on you?” I stated flatly, the anger drained from my voice. Though some secret part of me had hoped for this, now that it was real, I was growing more and more tired as each second passed, and my anger was fading quickly. I wanted no more of this; I wanted only Alicia's company, and the pleasure I was sure to find in introducing her to Gisele. "I have no mercy left."
Celeste was struggling valiantly, and I could hear the approach of the other Ancients. I could feel their apprehension, could hear their cacophony of thoughts, and I was distracted by it. I forced myself to focus on Celeste, who was struggling like a woman possessed. “Stop. Celeste, STOP!” I shouted in her face, my voice echoing throughout the chamber, and she instantly fell still, regarding me with a peculiar look as if she had
expected me to strike her and was surprised that I hadn’t. “Are you finished?” I asked with a touch of impatience.
“Yes,” she whispered, and I let her go. She dropped to her feet, refusing to grasp at her throat with her hands though she clearly wanted to. I watched her for a moment, her nostrils flaring and her eyes boring holes into my face. I also felt the eyes of Azriel, Maximilian, and Gisele. They were standing in the entrance to the chamber, and they had only been there long enough to see me release Celeste from my powerful grip.
We must have stood there for several minutes, each staring the other down. Eventually, Celeste's breathing returned to normal, but her nostrils continued to flare. My shield was rigidly in place, and she was beating against it mightily but to no avail. Her efforts left her distracted, and I was able to rummage through her thoughts quietly and gently. Now that the other Ancients had arrived, she would make her move, expecting them to back her up. They would all teach me, she thought. She couldn't have been more wrong.
With a shrug, I turned away from her, presenting her with a perfect opportunity to make her move, and I was stunned senseless by the other four Ancients rushing toward us at the same time. In that first nanosecond after I recovered from the shock, I actually thought they were all going to gang up on me, and the rage flared anew, easily breaking my raw and tender hold on it. I was resolved to destroy them all, no matter what consequence that carried. A bubbling fount of pain rode on the coattails of the rage, filled to the brim by Gisele’s betrayal.
What did I ever do to deserve all this? Ohh, I forgot. I didn’t walk out to embrace the dawn on the first day after my Conversion. Silly me...
Dragging behind my emotional train were the true motives of the four rapidly approaching Ancients, punctuated by Gisele’s thoughts. Not you! We come for Celeste! she shouted in my head, her mind's voice making me cringe inwardly as it reverberated throughout every cerebral corridor, and they caught Celeste up in a tangle of powerful arms.
Corrupting Alicia Page 12
