Cruxim (Paranormal Fallen Angel/Vampire Series)

by Karin Cox

  “He does not like me now, Beltran. Please, please let me stay beautiful for you.”

  Sabine struggled on the table, the pain jolting her out of her sedation. It was as I thought: Gandler would not want her unconscious for long. She growled.

  “These breasts,” Gandler moved to Sabine and slid the scalpel from her face down her chest, leaving a thin strip of red where his hand had passed.

  I heard Sabine’s feline scream of pain and rage.

  “So full and yet so pert. So human—for a cat.” Gandler cupped one in his hand and lifted the scalpel to cut it. “He must have loved these, too. Shall I cut one off? We can feed it to him when he comes.”

  “No.” Joslyn struggled against her bindings. “No.”

  “See, Joslyn, this could be you. Do you want to spare the lioness her pain? Or spare yourself? Tell us where he is, and all of this could be over.” Blood began to drip from the table edge as Gandler held up his bloody trophy to the triumphant braying of the crowd.

  “Do not.” Sabine’s voice was low and broken. “Joslyn, do not tell. They will kill him.”

  “He is coming for you, Sabine. He is coming to save you. He loves you,” Joslyn said, her words a rush.

  “Nooooo!” I hurtled forward to the table. “NO! I am coming for you both.” Tearing at the cape that hindered my wings, I flew at Gandler, knocking the razor from his hand.

  “To hell with you!” I screamed as the blade clattered to the table. I clutched it up and plunged it deep into his black heart. His blood washed over me and stained the table crimson, but I clamped down on the wound and sucked the life from him, discarding his shriveled corpse in an instant.

  There was no time to crow over his death, over the satisfaction of finally removing such evil from this world. Pandemonium broke out. From everywhere, Vampires rushed at me, and I threw them off, slashing with the razor and biting indiscriminately. At one point, I thought Sabine was beside me, dripping blood and roaring as she tore out throats and dismembered limbs, but in the haze of my fury and bloodlust, I was unsure. The Vampires came at me in waves, one after the other. They had torn the bonnet and petticoats from me and tugged and bitten at my wings until bloodied feathers littered the floor. Male after female, I slew them.

  I threw them from windows and impaled them with the razor, and all the while I drank others to their deaths. But still, somewhere in the frenzy, my mind knew there was one among them I was searching for above all others: Beltran.

  Blood covered my face and hands, but whether it was mine or theirs, I knew not. Sweet blood filled my gullet and clouded my judgment, but still vengeance went hungry. With colossal strength, I fought and fed until a familiar taste stopped me, and a startled face before me cried, “Stop, stop, Ame. Please, stop.”

  I released my hold on the girl’s throat and pulled back.

  It was Joslyn. In my fury, I had almost forgotten she was one of them. The sweetest of them.

  Evedra! I had forgotten about her too. Had I killed her? I swung my head wildly and saw her behind me, fighting off another swarm of Vampires who were heading my way.

  “Fly!” she yelled at me. “Take them now and fly, or you will die here, Cruxim.”

  But I could not.

  “Where is your brother?” I roared at her. “Where is Beltran?”

  Leaving Sabine and Joslyn, I tried to fly upward on my broken, torn wings and spied him rushing for the door, a contingent of bodyguards with him.

  Evedra shook her head. “Leave,” she said. “Leave now! There are more coming.”

  “Coward! Come and face me,” I screamed. I swung my head like a berserker. Shaking off several more Vampires who tore at my arms and chest and face with their teeth, I thundered towards him.

  “Cruxim.” Beltran turned. Gesturing to his bodyguards, he said, “Bind him.”

  Still I half-flapped, half-ran to him. Spurred by fury, I tore the bodyguards limb from limb until I reached Beltran and spun him around to face me.

  “Have you come to meet your death?” he goaded, and then punched me in the mouth.

  “No, I have brought you yours.” I wrenched his head back so forcefully his neck near snapped. Ignoring a new wave of undead that clambered over my back, I bared my teeth, preparing to sink them into his throat. A choking sensation stopped me.

  “Bite me then,” Beltran said as he tugged at the silver chain of Danette’s that hung around my neck. His hand sizzled as he gripped it, but he pulled it tighter until it choked into my flesh. “Everyone you ever loved remains lost to you. Joslyn will still go to hell.”

  “You go to hell!” I spluttered, letting go of his throat with one hand to reach up and break the chain. He struggled free and stepped back, right as a heavy weight crashed into the back of my skull. A lead bar clattered to the ground, and I staggered for a second then made to step toward him again.

  A wisp of smoke curled up from his hand where he clutched the silver crucifix. Turning it, he plunged the longest end straight toward my heart.

  “No!” The sound was disjointed, disconnected by the sizzle of flesh as someone stepped in front of me. “No.”

  A body fluttered to the ground before me, a naked woman, her blue eyes enormous with mortality.

  “Joslyn! No!” I fell to my knees and wrenched the searing silver cross from her breast. Blood followed, thick and sluggish as honey.

  “Why did you do this? Why? This would have been but a wound to me!”

  She gasped. Her eyes met mine, and her lips moved in a silent kiss.

  “Do not leave me, Joslyn,” I begged. I kissed her lips. Her eyes. “Joslyn!” I said again, but already the color had flooded from her face.

  She opened her mouth and then closed it again. And then, she was gone.

  “Wake him.”

  The voice pounded in my head.

  “I said: wake him. I want him to see this.”

  It was Beltran’s voice, and that alone made me want to close my eyes and never open them again. He still lived. Joslyn died. And he still lived. My heart felt dead in my chest, my body a hollow vessel jogged upon waves of nausea and guilt. Joslyn is dead, I thought. And perhaps Sabine too. And he lives. And I live. Even hatred felt futile.

  “Wake up!” A hand slapped my face. “Wake up. We have a surprise for you.”

  I opened one eye. Vampires: a horde of them. I sighed and tried to move my legs but could not. Opening both eyes, I found myself strapped to a wall, my wrists and ankles fastened with thick, buckled leather. Beyond, the sea churned purple and green. I was on a boat.

  “Why have you not killed me already?” I asked no one in particular.

  “I wanted you to see this first, Cruxim.”

  “See what? Your death?” I stared at him, loathing my only weapon.

  Beltran laughed. “Oh, Cruxim! Always so optimistic. Look at you.” He gestured to my restraints. “Trussed up in the middle of the Caribbean and still threatening death to me.” He sat down on the deck before me, relaxed, cocky as ever, and chuckled. “Tell me, where is Sabine?”

  I glowered at him.

  “It is not a riddle, Cruxim.” He grinned. “Where do you think she is? Let me see. She had no wings. She had no teeth.” He checked them off on his fingers. “She had no tail. She had no help, thanks to you. Do you think she escaped after you were taken? Or do you think she fought for you, just like Joslyn did—or tried to? Oh, I am sure she would have given her life for you, too. And yet … here you are … still alive, while they are…”

  I remained mute; rancor choked a rebuttal in my throat.

  “I don’t know what it is about you…” He paced before the wall, inspecting me. “What makes women love you so? Sabine would do anything for you. Anything. Joslyn gave her life for you.” A scowl made his handsome face quite ugly. “You even bewitched my own sister, it seems.”

  He stood, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “You made me kill Joslyn. I loved her. And you made me kill Evedra,” he snarled. “I loved her too.”
>
  “You never loved either.” I spat on the deck. “You never loved.”

  “And you did? Tell me, Cruxim, which did you love: Joslyn or Sabine?”

  “Both.”

  He laughed again. “Both. As if Joslyn were not enough. As if Sabine were not enough for you!”

  His words came at me like a blow to the face.

  “Did you ever wonder how that made them feel? Both vying for you. Both fighting for you. Both dying for you, even. Well, which did you love more?”

  I looked away, out to sea. Every molecule of me wept for them, but some part of me knew he was right. I had failed them—both of them. They had loved me too well. They had both loved me more.

  Beltran strode up to me and clutched my hair in his hands. He turned my head to where a solid object, covered by a cloak, sat on the deck. “Look at what your greed has left you. Your precious pride, your righteousness.” He turned to the group of Vampires behind him. “Show him.”

  One of them strode forward and pulled off the cloak.

  “One killed by silver; the other, gold!” Beltran hissed triumphantly.

  A perfect golden replica of Sabine stood before me, her haunches bunched as if to leap, her mouth open to bite, tail held high, both perfect breasts pert, one arm raised strike.

  “Sabine!” I cried. “What have you done to her?” I struggled against my bonds. “Sabine.”

  “Only what we had planned before you ruined our little party in your petticoats.” He smiled and stroked the golden figurine’s head. “I much prefer gold, don’t you, to limestone? It took a while to boil it all up, of course, so we had to wait until the next evening.” He walked around the figure, stroking it. “But I think it is better that she has her wings, and her breasts. My statuette looks so much more impressive that way.” His hand slid over the smoothness of her breasts and moved up to the golden-feathered wings. “Of course, we had to chip away the excess once we poured the boiling metal into her cage, but it was worth it, don’t you think? Such a likeness.”

  I screamed out in anguish and tugged at the restraints again, but they did not budge.

  “Oh, Gandler was desperate to find her anchorstone and destroy Sabine forever, but I think this is much nicer. It’s an alloy, of course. Mostly lead, a little gold, some silver. Heavy as a stone. It should sink just as nicely. I considered keeping it in my chamber, but Sphinxes are such contrary creatures, I doubt I would ever quite trust her.”

  I grimaced. Sabine, what have they done to you, my love? What have they done? By night locked in stone, by day in gold at the bottom of the ocean.

  I remembered her words, eternity in a cage, and I sobbed openly.

  Beltran rolled his eyes. “Are you a man or an immortal? Do not weep, for heaven’s sake. I cannot abide weeping. Shall I put your petticoats back on?”

  “I will kill you,” I threatened.

  “Do you hear it?” he asked the others. “He says he will kill me—again.” He chuckled and slapped one thigh. “That never gets tired.”

  Once more I tried to free myself from the restraints.

  “She is not dead,” I spat.

  “No. One day, when I find her anchorstone, perhaps she will be delivered to eternity, but until then, no. Think of her as just asleep, Cruxim. A very long, very cold sleep. Such a shame cats just hate water.” He gestured to the three strongest-looking Vampires who came forward and attached chains to the statuette. Passing them through a pulley system, they hauled the statue into the air and swung it over the side of the ship’s prow.

  “I wanted you to see this … before we killed you.” Beltran smirked. “Thanks to Sabine and Joslyn, we know how to do that now. I had long suspected it, you know, but to have it confirmed ... well. It has been fun, Cruxim, but it will be such a relief to have you gone.” He wiped his hands one over the other theatrically and flicked them towards the ocean. Then he said, “The cabin boy.”

  Another Vampire came forward, pushing before him a boy of about fourteen whose arms were crusted with scabs.

  “Now, drink, Cruxim. Won’t it be sweet, the oblivion of it all? Put an end to it. You have lost Joslyn. Lost Sabine. What else is there to live for anyway?”

  “There is my purpose.”

  Beltran rolled his eyes again. “Your purpose? Ah, yes. To destroy us all, or some such.” He let out a long sigh. “You have failed at this purpose, Cruxim, countless times. You are outnumbered, outgunned. You will fail at your mission again and again, and all for what? Do you even know? Does your God whisper to you? Does he tell you that you are so different from us? We eat them…” He thrust the cabin boy forward. “You eat us. Just as the lion eats the gazelle, or the fox eats the hare. Yet still you think yourself so much better than us. So far above us. So goddamn arrogant. So holy.” He spat on the deck and pushed the cabin boy to his knees before me. “Now, drink!”

  I shook my head. “I will not.”

  “Drink!” Beltran kicked the boy closer.

  “No.”

  “DRINK!” Beltran rushed at the child and scooped him up, pushing the boy’s face up against me, his neck to my lips.

  “I will not!” I raged.

  “Very well.” Beltran dropped the boy at my feet. “Montagnon, the syringe.”

  A green-eyed Vampire whose face was taut with burns left the deck and returned a moment later from the cabin, carrying a glass syringe like the one Joslyn had used to dispense her blood to me in doses.

  Remembering her sacrifice made me crave death. And it is death approaching, I thought. I glanced over at the golden statue of Sabine, still dangling above the water. Death take me, but send me to hell, for all of my loves are there.

  Bending over the weeping child, Beltran calmed him. “Now, now, we shall only need a little, Benjamin, I should think. Here, give me your arm.”

  I watched as he slid the syringe in and drew out a full vial.

  “There’s a good boy,” he soothed. “Montagnon, take him away.”

  I fixed my eyes on Sabine’s figurine, on her once-green eyes, now gold but still dispensing fury. Even when I heard Beltran approaching, I refused to turn away from her.

  “Let her drop,” said Beltran, and I felt the cold steel of the needle against my vein as the Vampires released the chains that held the golden idol of my love. As she plummeted into the waves, I heard Beltran whisper, “Goodbye, Cruxim.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The sea heaved beneath a curdled sky as the first trickle of the boy’s blood mingled with mine. It felt like a punch, followed by a swoon—so harshly smooth it was. I cried out, unable to control my reaction, and then I felt it surging through my body, filling me, healing me. Exulting me. It is sweeter even than Joslyn’s, I thought in wonder. It was sweet, and good, and carefree, and innocent. Every molecule that filled me felt alive with emotion. And in the song of the boy’s blood, I finally heard my Maker.

  Like a drug, the blood coursed through me, rushing to my head and to my heart. When I felt its itch in every vein, I knew that Joslyn had lied to them. This was not death to me: it was death to those who enjoyed this sweetness daily, who robbed others of it willingly. In an instant, I knew why I hunted them: only to keep me from doing this! For centuries I had killed them, taking what passion and pleasure I could in the feel of their throats in my mouth, their blood-beat in my ears. But all the while, I dined on their hatred while they dined directly on soul.

  Suddenly, I was ashamed, more ashamed than I had ever been. Each little death, my longing for Danette, for Joslyn, was nothing compared to this need. Oh, how I pitied the boy and all humankind. And how I hated Beltran for taking advantage of what I could not … yet I knew that hatred was futile in the face of faith. It was as if I stood again amid the ruins of that castle outside Barcelona, watching him defile my dreams for Joslyn. But this time, I blamed not him nor Joslyn, but something greater than all of us.

  How is it fair, Lord? my mind cried. How is it fair that my mouth is filled with their bitterness and sorrow, and
yet these creatures have their glut of euphoria and immaculate purity?

  For the first time, His voice spoke directly to my heart: “Innocence is always fairer than wickedness, and more desirable. Their master deals in pleasures, and yours in absolutions. But yours will free you, and theirs will enslave them.”

  “Then help me,” I cried. “I am alone. You never help me!”

  “You are never alone.”

  A flood of power poured through me. Yes, Beltran had stolen Joslyn’s innocence, just as he had taken the boy’s and injected it into me. Clasping my hands into fists, I slammed them away from the wall that restrained me, tearing the leather straps out with a resounding crunch.

  With a furious howl, I broke free and surged into the air, trailing chain and sections of the wall behind me.

  Before me, Vampires slithered over the deck, their hands over their ears. For once, Beltran looked truly afraid of me. He scrabbled backward, out of my reach.

  Ignoring him, I plunged over the side and into the bubbling, freezing ocean. My eyes open, seeking the glint of gold, I swam down and down and down until there was no breath left in me.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Sand chafed at the corner of one eye and my dry, swollen tongue worried at a small shell that clung to my lip. The sea filled my mouth like the ferryman’s coin, and I ached so much I wondered if I had not reached the Styx.

  My head felt leaden, but I raised it and glanced around. Sand. Stitched together with beach morning glory and beaded with shells. Beyond me, the viridian waters of the Caribbean seemed to mock me with their stillness. I crawled to my knees. Thirst and pain forced me to settle there awhile, forehead to the sand, the throbbing in my brain unimaginable.

  I remembered, then, that everything was lost. Sabine to the bottom of the ocean, to eternity in a golden cage. Joslyn to the fires of hell. And I felt more alone than I ever had.

  You are never alone.

  When I finally looked up, it was at the slim legs of someone standing over me.