by Nana Malone
“You hoped the light would destroy me.”
“Yes.”
Finally she understood why she’d been forced to endure, and the knowledge filled her with strength. “How terrible it must have been for you to open the door each time and discover me frightened but alive.”
“Yes.” Rochna turned and glared at Agaar. “And you ... you created a child in her. What kind of monster have you made? It’s almost a shame she won’t live to have her child tear through her body and rip the life from her. A fitting punishment.”
Agaar clenched his fists and cast a pleading look toward Death. Lily added her plea. “Let Agaar go.” Then the elder vampyre’s words registered. “Wait. Rochna, what did you say?”
Keeping his focus on Tükenis, the vampyre calmed his voice to a dull, compelling monotone. “The child he says you carry should destroy you as you murdered my love. Though I do doubt the veracity of one who so obviously cheats to break a bargain.”
“Child?”
A gentle smile seemed at odds on Tükenis’ face. “Your soul is entwined with the new life in your womb. As such, I will not take your soul. The young one’s soul is not scheduled for gathering and I cannot take one without the other.”
Closing her eyes, Lily searched within and discovered a tiny point, a swirling of light and dark. She gave the spot a tender mental nudge. Joy, acceptance, love flowed through her. Her daughter loved her. Loved Agaar, her father. Lily opened her eyes, met Agaar’s wide-eyed gaze and smiled. “Our daughter.”
Rochna rushed Tükenis, wrapped his fists in Death’s robes and lifted until his feet left the ground. “I will have the satisfaction of a bargain fulfilled. Now, Death. Take the soul.”
The insanity in his laughter chilled Lily. The tentative touch with her child dissipated and she pounded against the enclosure. How did even Death fight a crazed vampyre? Myths of her kind spoke of entire villages destroyed, entire races lost to vampyre anger. She screamed for Agaar. He had to do something, anything to stop Rochna. Agaar strained until his muscles stood in sharp relief then shook his head. The compulsion held him.
“You wish me to harvest a vampyre soul?”
Death’s soft question made Rochna angrier. His face flushed with the brightness of flowing blood before he growled and tossed Tükenis to the ground. “Such is our bargain—the many human souls I will send to you, for one vampyre.”
“Ah yes, the bargain.” Death rose and brushed at his robes. He glided to Rochna and gripped his shoulder with one hand. The other he placed on the vampyre’s heaving chest. “So be it.”
He drew his hand away, a tiny, dark brown, wrinkled mass cradled in his palm. He glanced over his shoulder at Agaar. “Not the loveliest of souls, eh Gatherer?” Then he focused on Rochna. “The bargain was struck, witnessed, and now concluded. I have taken a vampyre soul.”
“Not mine. Hers. The bargain,” Rochna shouted.
“The identification of the requisite soul became muddled. The soul of the vampyre Lily is currently entwined with that of her child, voiding her as an option. You insisted and I made an ... executive decision.”
Oddly dispassionate, Lily watched agony steal the anger from her father’s expression. Perhaps one day she would mourn, but now the pain of knowledge and of his betrayal were enough.
As Tükenis slowly closed his fist around the disintegrating soul, the imperial tilt of his head sealed Rochna’s demise. Once the soul’s dust joined the crumbling body, Death turned his back, pulled a bit of silk from a pocket and wiped his hands. “Nasty business, that.”
Lily slammed her fist against the barrier. “Let me out. Or is there another bargain? Someone else want me dead?” Sorrow stole her anger. She’d never given death a second thought, even those few times she’d drunk the life from another. She sniffed back tears and sent a silent apology to the woman who loved and forgave her as her father never could.
With the joy of new life growing in her, Lily understood the choice her mother had made. The choice she now made; to bear a child of love no matter the consequences to herself. This child, however, would be loved by her father. Lily hugged herself. Once Agaar forgave himself for his part in this night. As she’d already forgiven him.
The compulsion burst from Agaar and he collapsed, but scrambled to his feet and faced Master Death. “Let her go.”
“Of course. I have no reason to hold them. But, what of you, Gatherer? What is it you wish of me?”
“Give me an assignment so I can once again earn my freedom.”
“You wish to be with them?”
To ease the tension and dissipate a need for battle, Agaar rolled his shoulders. “Tükenis, Master Death, such is my only wish. If they will have me.”
Death stared into the sky. “Stand before me, Gatherer.”
Awaiting his next gather, Agaar positioned himself as his master commanded, but so he could also see his pale Lily.
Tükenis’ thin lips spread in a smile. “In accordance with the law, the edicts by which Gatherers are bound in their agreements, I release you. Struck shall be your name from the gates, the stone forever cleansed of this bargain.”
Surprised at his master’s words, Agaar forced himself to relax. The cleansing of a bargain could be an onerous process. He glanced at Lily. She stopped pounding and stood with one palm pressed against the barrier, waiting. For him.
He angled to face Lily and extended his hand toward her. The barrier shimmered. Tükenis continued the lengthy ritual, the words soothing the remnants of honest anger burning Agaar’s skin. He ceased hearing the words. Despite his foolishness in forcing the original bargain, he trusted Master Death. There would be no tricks. No complications.
Lily was another matter. Life with her would be extremely complicated. Raising an undead child would increase the complications. Actually looking forward to the coming years, he whispered her name.
Lily’s head jerked and she lifted her gaze to his. She covered the life within her with one hand and offered a tentative smile. Her lips moved.
That moment, the feeling he’d worked for, waited for, the one he despaired of ever experiencing, burst over him. Healed and whole, his soul expanded, filled not just with his nature, but overflowing with Lily—and their child. Silent, he repeated her words and a corresponding light burst over her expression.
He vowed the creation of his undead life would bind them together until—
Tükenis chuckled. “Go to your woman, ex-gatherer. You shall see me only once again.” He sighed with mock sadness. “Though I fear not for a long, long time.”
~ ~ ~ THE END ~ ~ ~
A Note from Lizzie Starr:
Thank you for reading Dead Lily Blooms. If you would like other readers to find this story, please consider leaving a review. Independent authors need our readers to help in spreading the word to other readers. A couple of sentences will do to increase the story’s visibility in online stores.
And here's a taste of my book series, 'The Double Keltic Triad':
Book One: 'By Keltic Design'
By Lizzie Starr
Allyn Keely, Celtic artist and friend of Faerie, finally finds a man she can love. But she’s older than he is and faces the insurmountable task of helping him realize his destiny in the Otherworld.
Successful businessman, Jaye Zeroun prides himself on his realistic, but lonely, view of life. Until Allyn knots her way around his heart and fills his life with a fantasy he refuses to believe. Then danger threatens their love, forcing him to either accept a deadly battle or lose the very things he never included in his life, a family and a love beyond his wildest imagining.
Excerpt:
The first impulse was to rush across the lobby like a love-struck teenager and fall at her feet. He stopped in his tracks. Love-struck? Jaye Zeroun? Nah. Debating his feelings while he crossed the lobby, he came to no answer before he sank into the chair next to Allyn.
Her soft voice filled him with surprising contentment. “Can’t sleep?”
Almost afraid to speak, afraid of what he might say, Jaye shook his head and took a deep breath anyway. “You?” Was that a slight crack in his voice?
Allyn lay her hand on his. “I’m a night person, especially these nights when the moon is dark.”
“Oh, a vampire.” Jaye cringed. Smooth conversation. She’s gonna think I’m a total nutcase.
Allyn laughed. “Not even close. I simply enjoy the quiet and solitude of the night. Sometimes large groups of people, like at these Cons, are distressing to me. And, I get some of my best ideas at night.”
Jaye willed his voice to stay in one register and took another deep breath. The touch of her hand was playing havoc with his raw nerves; his skin tingled and burned with the contact. “I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately. Ever since I got the tattoo, I just can’t seem to get any rest. It’s not that it hurts and the itching is almost gone. In fact I really don’t think my not sleeping has anything to do with the tattoo. Both just happened around the same time. I, well, I just can’t even seem to explain it.”
“I understand. Have you tried--?”
Jaye interrupted, voice unintentionally sharp. “I’ve tried everything anyone has suggested.” He glanced sideways at Allyn. “Sorry, I’m a little touchy about it, too. I refuse to resort to sleeping pills. I’ve tried relaxation techniques and visualizing times when I haven’t had any problems with sleep. Until it’s nearly dawn, but I just can’t stay asleep.”
Allyn clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Well, when you remembered good sleep in the past, what stands out most? Maybe you should try that.”
With his long legs stretched out in front of him, Jaye shrugged and leaned back in the chair. He slipped his hands into his pockets and felt a crumpled piece of paper. A mischievous grin spread across his face when he pulled it out and smoothed the pale yellow scrap on the arm of the chair.
“I remember one of my foster moms reading bedtime stories. Allyn, do you ever use coupons?
“Coupons? What do they have to do with…?”
Jaye leaned forward eagerly. “Do you ever use coupons?”
“Well, sometimes.” She giggled. “When I remember I have them.”
“Okay. Now, if you were a store,” Jaye lifted a hand to stop the comments obviously hovering on Allyn’s lips. “Just play along with me here. If you were a store, would you accept coupons?”
Allyn shrugged. “Oh. I suppose so.”
“Good.” Jaye picked up the scrap of paper and held it in both hands. “Here is a coupon. I would like to redeem it.”
~ By Keltic Design~
Romance/Fantasy
Available now at most eBook retailers
Also available at Amazon.com for $2.99
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About Lizzie Starr
Lizzie made up games and stories to keep her company as a child. So, a witch lived in Grampa’s weather research station and was only held at bay by a certain weed. An ancient road grader became a boat carrying wild adventurers to islands filled with sheep that turned into lions and cannibals.
Now, the stories of her imagination are beginning to find their way to paper and pixels. Filled with fantasy and love, these tales take her far from the mundane world.
When *lizzie has to return to that mundane life, she’s *the Lunch Lady* at a private school. Happily, those who know *lizzie have become accustomed to her writer’s ways and just shake their heads when she goes off on some fantastical tangent, asks strange what if questions, or just has to find a piece of paper and a pen that actually writes. One of her greatest delights is to watch the joy of writing fill a friend, and she’ll do anything to help them achieve their dream.
Contact Lizzie:
Lizzie adores hearing what you think about her tales. You can visit her blog at http://starrwords.blogspot.com, her website at www.lizziestarr.com or contact her at:[email protected]
* * * * *
Other Titles by Lizzie Starr
Fork & Pen: Recipes by Romance Authors of the Heartland
Tales from the Mist
Birds Do It!
Martini Madness, WG2E All For Indies Anthology
Double Keltic Triad Series:
By Keltic Design
Fires of a Keltic Moon
Keltic Flight
Wild Keltic Carouselle
Keltic Dreams
A Faire Keltic Renaissance
Keltic Multiverse:
Prince of Dark Ness
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An All-Consuming Treat
'The Consuming'
by Rhonda Hopkins
Open the black wrought iron gate and travel down the long drive. Watch out for the foxes, raccoons, and other wildlife that show up after dark. Stop and show your respect at the graveyard, but if the dead push through the ground, you might want to run. Climb the steps to the front porch, lit with glowing jack-o’-lanterns. Be careful brushing aside the cobwebs; there’s a giant spider around somewhere.
Use the knocker or ring the bell to summon me to the door. You’ll find me in one of my many incarnations — maybe a gothic vampire or a witch this year. “Welcome to my humble abode.” Candles light the living room and a black cat will definitely cross your path. I’ll offer you Cracker Jacks because like my house, there’s a surprise inside. The longer you stay the more likely you are to see a ghostly presence — mist coming from the wall or items moving by themselves. “Do you want to just take your treat or stay for the…tricks?”
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The Consuming - Back Cover Description
Serena knows her late uncle wasn’t crazy. So when she inherits his sprawling Carolina mansion and leaves the big city to restore both his home and his name, she uncovers a mystery that could cost much more than her sanity. As the house slowly reveals its dark secrets, and the extent of her peril becomes evident, she’ll settle for escaping with her life - if it isn’t already too late.
***
“The Consuming by Rhonda Hopkins is the literary version of what films like Paranormal Activity tried to be. This has the bumps in the night flying off the page.” ~~ TW Brown, Author of the Dead and the Zomblog series.
“The Consuming is a wonderful, chilling tale that leaves you listening too hard in the quiet of a dark night, and jumping at shadows in mirrors. Definitely looking forward to more from Ms. Hopkins!” ~~ Stacey Joy Netzel, USA Today Bestselling author of Beneath Still Waters.
“The Consuming by Rhonda Hopkins is the perfect example of gothic horror…” ~~ Jennette Marie Powell, Author of Hangar 18: Legacy and the Saturn Society series.
“…Rhonda Hopkins’ The Consuming had me turning on all the lights in the house and checking behind doors.” ~~ Stacy Green, Author of Into the Dark.
“The Consuming by Rhonda Hopkins had a chilling Hitchcock feel…” ~~ Kelsey Tanner, Amazon Review
“…This tale will give you shivers up your spine, make you take second glances in mirrors…Superb!” ~~ Penelope Anne Bartotto, The Library at the End of the Universe
(Navigation Stars)
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The Consuming
A Short Story
Copyright © 2012 Rhonda Hopkins - All Rights Reserved
Published via a temporary license for the purposes of this boxed set via Addictive Reads
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
Cover Design: Jeffrey Kosh
Editor: Janet Bessey, Dragonfly Editing
This book may not be used, reproduced, transmitted, scanned, distributed, or stored in whole or in part by any means whatsoever, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Your support of author rights is appreciated.
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold, rented or given away to other people. If you
would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to author and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
The Consuming was originally published in the TALES FROM THE MIST anthology in October 2012.
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THE CONSUMING
A Short Story
My uncle was dead. I held the correspondence from his attorney, reading it for the third time. My father and his brother had parted ways in a manner that allowed neither to shed his male pride to seek forgiveness. Because of their quarrel I hadn’t seen Uncle Frederick since I was a child, so I was surprised to feel the wetness of tears on my cheeks.
“Serena, are you okay?” Beth Thompson stood in the doorway of my office.
