Remy left the room and closed the door. “Well, that went well. I have to admit, I miss the old, healthy Nathan.”
“You got farther than I did,” Hallie sighed. “I could barely get a sentence out of him.”
“Well, we can’t force him to do what he doesn’t want to do. Anastasia did that and we all know how that turned out.” He shrugged. “Let’s not keep Lambert waiting.” He ushered her down the hall, just in time to hear the end of Lambert’s statement with Alexis.
“…is safe. Remy and the others could return tonight if they want.”
Remy couldn’t take his eyes off her. Alexis stood across from her consort, dressed in tight-fitting black jeans and a short shirt that showed off her beautiful figure. She placed her head on Lambert’s shoulder and he rubbed her left arm.
“We can go back home?” Remy smiled and clapped his hands. “Are you serious this time?”
“Yes.” Lambert had reclaimed his spot as the most important vampire in the city and nothing would say ‘the most important’ without a complete makeover. His brown hair was buzzed short. He wore a dark suit with a bright red tie. His dress shoes were polished and gleamed underneath the light in the foyer. His face looked flawless. He looked perfect.
Remy wiped his nose and eventually covered his lower face to avoid another moment of taking in her scent. “I guess you two made up? Back to being Time Magazine’s vampire couple of the year?”
Alexis’ chocolate-colored eyes narrowed. “Of course. We always do. Unlike Deamhan, we don’t have a habit of betraying those closest to us.”
“How’s our dear friend?” Lambert took off his suit jacket and draped it over his forearm.
“He’s dying. That hasn’t changed,” Remy’s response was muffled.
“Why is your hand over your mouth?”
He ignored Lambert’s question. “So, you said it’s safe for us to head back to our sanctuary?”
“There haven’t been any signs of Dorvo vampires in the city for a week now.”
“Good.”
“However, Ruby still might be here.” Lambert waved at him. “Come outside with me. We need to talk.”
Remy hoped it was that easy. While he wanted his old flame to pay for what she did to him, he also didn’t want to see her pretty little Dorvo head separated from her pretty little body. He still viewed her as his jewel, his ex-lover, and the only woman from his past who could make his heart skip a beat, if it beat at all. He couldn’t explain it. Somewhere, deep inside his shriveled heart, he still had a thing for her.
He followed Lambert out of the home and stood on the front steps. The hot breeze graced his skin and the clear sky was comforting to say the least. The sticky summer heat was in the air. Something about Minnesota summers always made him miss his old home city of Paris.
“How is she doing?” Lambert asked.
“She?”
“Hallie.”
“Oh! She’s fine.”
“You don’t know what she does when she goes to the city, do you?”
“No. Is she actually eating people now?”
Lambert smiled. “No, but she does zoom in and out of vampire areas.”
“Well, that’s new. Hallie is a big girl. She can take care of herself.”
“So, she isn’t your littlest Deamhan anymore?”
“She always will be,” Remy laughed. “But I respect her decision to put on her big girl pants.”
“My vampires know she isn’t to be harmed.” Lambert moved in closer. “I need you to come to the city with me.”
“I’m fine right here.”
“This is the fifth night that you’ve refused to come on the hunt with me. Why?”
He looked at his fingers. “I don’t know why my nails are so dirty. I haven’t done anything besides torture Kenneth.”
“You’re avoiding the question. Does the idea of possibly confronting Ruby hurt you that much?”
Remy picked at his fingernails. He’d never forget what Ruby did to him at Dark Sepulcher, nor could he forget how damn good she looked doing it. Her caramel skin radiated underneath the dark lights of the vampire club. She’d come up with various torture techniques, some that made Anastasia look like an amateur. She believed that somewhere, in his brain, was the key to unlocking the Dark Curse. She planned on releasing the first Deamhan from Limbo just to kill them and end the Deamhan species once and for all. “So, you think she’s still here?”
“Yes, chances are that she’s here and if that’s the case, you’re the only one who knows how she acts and what she’ll do when she’s cornered like an emaciated dog.”
Remy remained silent.
“Are you listening to me?”
“Unfortunately, I am.” He smiled briefly. “Ruby’s a master expert. If she doesn’t want to be found, chances are, we won’t find her. She’ll just rise again, like a phoenix from the ashes, and attack Blind Bluff Manor, but when she comes, I’ll be ready.” He wiped the dirt particles from his hands.
“So, come with me and let’s find her before she can ‘rise again,’ as you say. Will you agree to go with me tonight?”
He patted Lambert’s shoulders. “Depends where.”
“Wabasha Caves, just south of the city, near the Mississippi River.”
“Caves? You mean like real caves?” He leered at the thought. “That doesn’t sound like the precious jewel I know. Ruby desires a comfortable living environment and rock walls don’t fit that.”
“And this is why you’re important in this search. You’re the only one in the city who knows her.”
“I just… I don’t feel like going down that road again.” The breeze kicked up and the trees swayed in its wind. “Whenever I think about her, I think about the time I spent with her. Those memories… I buried that shit for a reason and seeing her will bring it all back again.”
“She has one of the pieces of the tablet that can end your species.”
“I know… I know,” he sighed. “Ruby’s just… I don’t know whether to rip her into pieces or kiss her.”
When he met her for the first time, he found himself magnetized to her. Although a young Deamhan during that time, he felt there was no other woman in the world that he’d rather be with. She was the one for him. He felt she always would be and he reveled in her mischief against other Deamhan.
But now things were different.
As long as she had the other piece of the tablet, he faced extinction, and he did know her well enough to understand that she’d do anything to see the death of his species into fruition.
“Fine. I’ll go with you but just this one time,” Remy agreed.
“Thank you.”
“I’m serious Lambert. You won’t find her there.”
“And if we do?”
Remy gazed above at the stars. “Then I guess we’ll just have to kill her now, won’t we?”
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER THREE
ANASTASIA
Daylight carried a light scent that reminded Anastasia of dandelions, daffodils, and fresh grass. It was a flashback to her youth; a simpler time in which she ran through the tall leaves of grass, laughing gently as they slapped against her shins. She’d gathered the ladybugs from the tall bushes that separated her family’s plot from their neighbor’s land, placing them in small glass jars to take back to her mother.
However, the darkness of night carried a much thicker scent, filled with blood and sulfur. Instead of running through the bright-green grass, she saw herself wading through a large river of blood that ran endlessly into the horizon. Screams replaced the sounds of birds flapping overhead and bees buzzing in her ear. Amenirdis, the Dark Mother, stood like a god among her servants, basking in the horrors and dimness around her. She gloated in the destruction. Anastasia pushed the floating human bodies from her. The skies opened, raining thick globs of gore.
A strong force blasted her body. Her joints locked, her eyelids fluttered, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Image
s of her past bombarded her like a movie sped up in time. Looking from the outside, she saw herself as a young girl, the daughter of strict Catholic farmers, in late 1500s England. The image moved to her sire, who stood triumphant over her. She rubbed her hands over Anastasia’s bite wound on her throat and basked in its deliciousness.
It was the Dark Mother who invaded her dreams.
“What do you want from me?” Anastasia struggled to speak.
“Isn’t it obvious?” the voice spoke loud enough to shatter her eardrums. “You wanted my wisdom once, Ramanga.”
“I’ve never wanted your wisdom.”
“You roamed this earth for hundreds of years, blind and ignorant. This is understandable because no one could give you what you wanted; what you need, but I can.”
“I don’t want anything from you,” Anastasia said, managing to muster a reply as images attacked her thoughts.
“Soon you’ll want everything from me.”
The images ceased and now in control of her body and mind, she dropped to her knees.
“You’ll become the Ramanga you were meant to be and you’ll serve me.”
She lifted her head, which felt heavy. The scenery around her had changed. All she saw was darkness.
“I offer you the chance to be among gods. I offer you the chance to save your species.”
“No, I’m done listening to you.” She placed her hands over her ears. “Wake up,” she whispered to herself. “Wake up. Wake up.”
The Dark Mother’s voice softened. “You belong to me.”
Anastasia opened her eyes.
It took her a moment to recover from her nightmare. She sat up in bed and placed her hand on her forehead. This is impossible. She fought off the influence weeks ago and remained free from it. When under the influence the Dark Mother used to invade her dreams on a nightly basis. She saw the Pure Deamhan every time she closed her eyes, even if it was just to avoid a car’s high beams or the moon’s invading glow. She felt the need to scratch the image from her thoughts. How could it come back to easily?
She planted her feet on the floor beside her bed. Instead of finding an abandoned building, or worse, a cemetery, she and the others settled for the human comforts of a hotel room. The room still carried the smell of the previous human who had rented it the night before. She opened the door and peered out into the hallway. Their rented room was a suite, big enough to accompany an entire human family. It came complete with its own kitchen, dining room, and two other rooms on the opposite side. Anastasia made her way toward the kitchen, seeing the shadows of two individuals on the hallway’s walls. The smell of something burning entered her nose.
Sia sat at a small round kitchen table across from Krerina. Anastasia noticed that the thread that kept Adze Deamhan’s eyes sewn shut was gone. A spool of dark thread and a fine needle flay on the table next to the vials they’d recovered last night. Between Krerina’s arms sat the incantation bowl with a trail of smoke filtering into the air from it.
“You’re up early.” Sia grabbed the spool and the needle.
Anastasia glared into her deep-brown, beautiful eyes. She remained quieted as if the air had been ripped from her lungs. It was the first time she saw them. “Why do you do that?” She pointed to the thread and needle.
“Atonement.” Sia threaded her needle.
“We all have sins. Why do you feel the need to punish yourself for yours?” She stood back and watched Sia close her right eye. The Adze Deamhan grunted as she poked the needle through her eyelid. After securing one stitch, she threaded quickly, pushing the needle into her skin, pulling it through, and tightening it before piercing again. Blood traveled down her cheek and to the table. She didn’t stop.
“My body must remain damaged, in a state of repair. It is how I will always remember the bad things I’ve done.” When she finished, she tied off the end, leaned back in her chair, and waited for the small wound to heal itself. “I understand that this might be too much for you to stomach, as they say.”
“You’d be surprised how much I can stomach.”
“But it must be done so I can understand my own faults.” With her task complete, Sia grabbed the needles and thread, and placed them in a small plastic sandwich bag. Her movements were perfect, as if she wasn’t blind in one eye.
“I have many faults, sins,” Anastasia added. “But I’d never harm myself in such a degrading manner.”
“It’s called a conscience. The reason you don’t understand is because the Dark Mother hasn’t claimed you yet. Influenced, yes, but you aren’t hers. Believe me, you’ll know when you belong to her. Her manipulation will be something that you can’t fight against and if that happens, and if you manage to break free from it, you’ll do exactly what I do now.”
“I’m not easily manipulated.”
“Are you so sure? Lucius easily manipulated you.”
“Yes,” Anastasia was hesitant to reply. “But that was different.”
“How so?”
“Lucius’ dream for our species was different before his offspring betrayed him, before he betrayed all of us.”
“And with just one drop of his tainted blood, you followed that dream and it led you to this very moment. Now you realize that his dream was nothing more than a constructed nightmare. For over a thousand years, I saw the Dark Mother in my dreams. My sister, Anzuna, and I were endowed with her blood, the same blood she infused inside Lucius, who infused inside you. You remember its power. You remember its urge. Now, imagine those feelings a thousand-fold, a constant seething throughout your entire body commanding you to do the most tragic and horrid things. I managed to break away. However, Anzuna wasn’t so lucky. If you know anything about Estrie Deamhan, you should know that they easily can be molded into a perfect weapon.”
Anastasia didn’t reply. She thought about her dream as Sia grabbed her supplies and stood from the table.
“This still disturbs you, doesn’t it? I’ll finish in the bathroom.” She walked away.
Anastasia pulled out a chair from the table and sat across from Krerina. “Is this for show?” She pointed at the incantation bowl.
“It’s a spell.” Krerina gently blew the smoke away from her face. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
“Enlighten me.”
“I’m sure you’ve heard of the woman who has been killing Deamhan throughout the country?”
Anastasia nodded. “The Defiler. Of course.”
“I think she’s a Kashshapu, like me, but I can’t be for sure,” she continued. “Since she appeared, I’ve been trying to locate her but I think she’s using magic to cloak herself. I don’t know if she’s a threat to us or just the Dark Mother.”
“If she’s killing Deamhan, she’s a threat to Deamhan. Plain and simple.”
She closed his eyes, whispered words which made no sense to Anastasia, and then pushed the bowl aside. “It’s done.”
“How do you know it works?”
“I know.” She folded her hands and placed them on the table. “I also know you don’t trust me and you have every right not to. It’s hard to accept that, what you’ve been told about Kashshapu for so long wasn’t the truth. But I’m not here to convince you. I’m here because you need help in putting Amenirdis back in Limbo and getting the Dark Curse tablet. Believe me, I want that tablet more than any of you do.”
“Is that so?” Anastasia leaned toward her. “You want its power?”
“No. It contains spells for magic has been lost to time; spells that will help me and the others understand our ancestor’s way of practicing dark magic.”
“I don’t care what it contains. Our goal is to stop the Dark Mother from releasing the Pure Deamhan from Limbo.”
“Then we agree on something, at least.” She inched back. “However, the tablet doesn’t belong in the hands of a Dorvo vampire and a human.”
Anastasia didn’t believe her. There had to be something more sinister involved. It was well known that the human and Dorvo
vampire she referred to was Nathan and Ruby. Nathan, the human owner of the only stable Deamhan sanctuary in Minneapolis, had become a valuable asset in making sure that part of the tablet remained hidden and safe. He made sure that no Deamhan or vampire knew its location. On the other hand, Ruby had stolen the other piece and hid it from prying eyes. She refused to hand it over and her goal was to acquire both pieces and release the Pure Deamhan from Limbo so that she could end the Deamhan species once and for all.
“Funny that you think it doesn’t belong in the hands of a human and a Dorvo vampire. I agree with you on Ruby, but Nathan is different. The only time the tablet has been safe was in the hands of humans.”
“Humans who stole it from my ancestors,” Krerina replied. “It will never be safe as long as it remains out there.”
“What’s to say that you and the rest of your friends won’t kill us once you have the tablet?”
The last of the smoke filtered into the air and Krerina waved it away. “We don’t benefit if you all die and we don’t benefit if you live.”
“So, what’s your purpose for helping us if it means little to you?”
“Releasing eight Pure Deamhan from Limbo is pure madness.”
Anastasia grabbed her wrist. “Maybe that’s what you want.”
Krerina tried to pull away. “Let me go.”
“You’re a Kashshapu. You can make me let go.”
She pulled harder. “Let me go, Anastasia.”
“Unless you’re not a Kashshapu? Could you block me from reading your thoughts? Can you stop me from feeding off you?”
“You don’t want to feed from me. That wouldn’t turn out good for you.”
“Oh, I’d do it if I had to.”
The grip Anastasia had on Krerina’s forearm turned warm. She noticed the change, subtle at first, which then ramped up to the point that her hand felt like she’d stuck it straight into a light socket.
“Let… me… go,” Krerina continued.
Anastasia felt her throat tighten and she slammed her hands on the table to keep her balance while still sitting in her chair. She noticed small gray spots replaced the welts and they grew in size.
Divination (Deamhan Chronicles Book 4) Page 3
