The room falls quiet. Henri no longer talks, instead watches the fire, his face has no emotion. My mother stands and leaves the parlor with Ashur. No one speaks, only the light popping sounds of the fireplace fill the room. I want to run. I am left alone with Henri.
My wine glass is still full and I swish the dark red liquid around the edges, daring it to spill over. How have I gotten here? My life in Florida seems far away, a life that someone else has lived. I wonder if Janice misses me as terribly as I miss her.
“Would you like me to see you to your room?” Henri stands in front of me. My eyes find his. He looks normal. He looks like Henri.
Is he serious?
“I’d rather stab my eyes out.” My words shock even me. My voice is strong, unafraid. When did I become so daring?
Henri laughs. It is quiet sound, amused. I grip my glass to keep from clawing his face.
“You do have quite a sassy side.” He is enjoying this cat and mouse game. Henri offers his hand to me. “Come, I’ll tuck you in.”
It comes out then. The glint of meanness. It has been veiled under a chocolate layer flecked in gold. Is that where the darkness lies? Hidden in the gold sparkles in the iris? I have gazed into them so many times and seen only love. I trusted them and trusted him, completely blind. The windows to the soul and I somehow missed the evil that lay in them.
“So you can finish what you started?” My voice is a flat line. There is no emotion in it. I refuse to let him see it.
Henri crouches down in front of me, his forearms rest on his thighs, and his fingers weave together. He is smiling again. Anger seeps into my pores, it fills me up. There is so much rage, my head rushes. He puts his face close to mine, his voice low. His breath feels rancid. “Soon, there will be no one to keep you away from me.”
The surge of electricity steals my breath. My vision blurs and stars form in the corners. He tears at my metal core and leaves it shredded, the edges jagged and sharp. I can feel him, there is no blocking him out. He is rage. A ferocious storm that will destroy everything, leaving nothing but ruin in his wake.
Aydin.
Henri can’t feel it. He is oblivious to the target on his back. To the lightning that crashes in the distance. It gives me strength. Henri mistakes my silence for fear. He thinks he has won, some game where he holds the cards and I wasn’t told the rules.
“Did you enjoy your tour of the winery, Charlotte?” Aydin’s voice is cold, shards of ice that slice through the air.
Henri bolts up and spins to face him. His quick movements and red face give him away. He is scared, and he should be. Aydin stands maybe a foot from him, threatening. Aydin’s face is hard, the steel of his eyes frozen, frost glistening around the edges.
“It was very educating.” My voice is calm, like it belongs to someone else. Some woman who is stronger. Someone who doesn’t have to pretend she isn’t intimated by the boy she had loved.
Henri walks out in silence, leaving Aydin and I alone. My breath rushes out, relieved. Aydin sits at his usual place by the fire. I haven’t been so glad to see anyone in a long time.
“This is my fault. I should never have provoked him,” Aydin’s face is unreadable. “I’m going to kill Lucius.”
My laugh surprises Aydin, who looks over to stare. “That is exactly what Lucius said. I’m just glad he wasn’t any later.” My eyes fall down to my hands. The words came out lightly, but they carry more than I want to hear.
“Lucius is never late,” Aydin says. He stands and walks toward me, every movement fluid and graceful. He kneels down, his stomach at my knees.
My heart pounds in my ears. Aydin’s eyes are dark, the pupils dilated. The light reflects in them, making them shine. I hate that I can’t tell what he is thinking. I want to know every thought that passes behind his eyes. I reach up, without thinking, and I lightly brush his cheek with the back of my fingers. The hair on his face is soft. What is before me is only the ghost of what he had once been.
Aydin’s eyes close, a small breath is released. Something in his face changes and his eyes cloud. I take a deep breath, sucking in the spicy metallic taste in the air. Aydin brings a finger to his mouth, a glimpse of sharp teeth and it comes back with drops of blood. His blood. Lightly, he skims his fingers over the scratches on my face. His touch doesn’t charge under my skin. There is only a small sensation, like an embrace. My cheek tingles and the sharp sting fades. I look at him shocked, and his fingers move to my mouth. The metallic taste of blood hits my tongue, as he rubs his finger over my lip, pulling the corner down. The skin tingles before it fades.
Aydin pulls a cloth from his pocket and wipes my face before he runs his hands over my hair. I feel weak. I want to sink into him. There are so many things I want to say, but I don’t even know where to begin.
“There is nothing I can do about the bruises,” Aydin says. “You must give them time to heal.”
Chapter Thirty-four
When I was fifteen, there was a small dinner party in honor of my father. I wasn’t sure what exactly the party was for, but I remember it vividly. My mother usually kept Emily and I entertained by making up stories about our guests. She would encourage us to join in, spinning elaborate tales. Henri often laughed us off or after a while ignored us. My mother told me I had an amazing ability to distract with my vivid imagination.
During that particular party, we had only two guests. My father’s gatherings usually involved his colleagues, sitting in the parlor till the wee hours, their loud carious laughter filling the house. Several unknowns would sit around with them. Very few made lasting impressions, except that night.
A tall woman with dark skin and dark eyes had been our guest. She was accompanied by a small man with fair skin and flaming red hair, his pale face dotted with freckles. My father had introduced him as Thomas and seemed delighted to have him in our home. Thomas was nice with an Irish accent that made everything he said, humorous.
But, it was the tall woman that had caught my attention. Dahnay, was from Ethiopia, and my mother had said she had come for a special visit. I remember she had not offered her hand, but simply bowed her head slightly in greeting. Her long neck held thin gold necklaces, some with small medallions, others simple charms. Her dress was a dark red with gold trim. Dahnay’s short hair was styled neatly to her head like the old black and white pictures of Hollywood movie stars. Her long forehead sloped elegantly to her large brown eyes. Those were what captured me. They were outlined in pure gold, like her dress, but so intense, I could barely keep her gaze.
Dahnay had seen terrible things in her life. I knew from how fathomless her eyes were, she had seen pain. It was etched in the dark color, framed with gold. They told her story, but I was forced to grab the words from the air, sharing them with my mother and Emily as I went along.
She was a queen from long ago. Her life had been created for her, her marriage arraigned. Dahnay’s new husband had been a hideous man, cruel and beat her often, hurting her in ways no woman should ever have to know. The depths of his cruelty were carved in her skin, hidden from prying eyes. I knew my words to be true, the gold flashes in her eyes told me so.
I continued my story, quietly, telling of how she had been forced into a dark life, trapped in the depravity around her. Until one day, she gathered the strength to break free. She had killed her cruel husband by sawing off his head and putting it on display. Dahnay’s act of defiance made all the woman in shackles in the lands cheer. She continued by freeing their battered bodies and ruled over all of the north east of Africa for hundreds of years.
Dahnay had turned to me and stared across the room, her eyes meeting mine. I knew then that I had told her story. She had smiled at me, letting me know in silence I had breathed life into her past. Emily had loved my story, Henri told me I was ridiculous. My mother had laughed and said that Dahnay was indeed a warrior.
I sit in front of my mother and see that her eyes were cast from the same dark pits as Dahnay. The dark and powerful woman that
had sat at my dinner table had been a vampire. The thought is unsettling. How many had I met in my life? How many toothy smiles had I seen and not known the darkness that was in them?
I watch as Abigail talks to Aydin. Claudette, I believe, is sleeping since the sun has yet to set. Lucius sits reading some huge book in the corner. The events of the past two weeks weigh on me. I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life here. I certainly can’t imagine spending it with Henri walking the halls.
“Will I ever get to go home?” I ask.
“Do you mean back to the coast?” Abigail asks. This is the first she has talked to me since Henri’s attack. They all act like nothing has happened. Except, I haven’t seen Henri since Aydin scared him last night.
“Yes,” I say.
“This is your home now, Charlotte,” Abigail says. “We will send for your things.”
“I’m not allowed to leave,” I say. I look to Lucius. “You will just come collect me again if I try.”
Lucius’ eyes dart away to Aydin. How can such a sweet face hide such deceit? I glance at Aydin. He has been watching me. “If Lucius doesn’t, then you will.”
“You are safe here,” Aydin says.
“I felt real safe on my wine tour, Aydin.” Sarcasm drips from my words.
His eyes burn into mine, but I look away. Cruel hands squeeze my heart. I can’t believe he is keeping me here. Aydin spent my entire life protecting me, now he is the one making sure I never leave. The air in the room charges and the metallic scent hits me hard.
Aydin’s face changes and twists, Lucius sits upright, his large muscles flex. I break away from staring at Aydin to look at him. Lucius has his eyes on me, his face serious, but I can’t read the expression.
“Charlotte, can I talk to you?” Henri asks from behind me. My stomach leaps into my throat. My hands start to tingle, the sensation spreading up my arms and claws at my face. Before it was car rides or sudden, loud sounds. I swallow around the anxiety. Henri has become a new trigger. The simple sound of his voice has sent me into a panic. I can’t conjure my rage of the night before. I can’t summon the bravery and it’s leaving me exposed and vulnerable.
My eyes automatically shoot to Aydin. He gives me a slight nod. I stand slowly, trying to keep my composure and turn to face Henri. His face is different. His eyes dart away, unable to look at me. He always looks at me. The shame is obvious, it covers him like a shroud. My heart tears in my chest.
“Yes,” I say.
Lucius and Aydin walk slowly from the room. Henri steps back as they pass, his haughty demeanor knocked back a few degrees. Either one could rip him to shreds. Their cruel looks and nasty smiles aren’t needed. He is scared of them, of what he has done.
Abigail stops in front of him. His eyes shoot down to his feet. She runs her hand over his cheek, stopping at his chin. She grips his face and leans in to whisper in his ear. I can’t hear what she says, but the look on his face tells me it more than likely involves threats of severe bodily harm. She backs away and kisses his cheek. The door shuts quietly behind her.
“There is nothing I can say to take back the way I behaved,” he says, “I can’t apologize, it was unacceptable.”
The way he behaved. Like he had just talked badly about me, or simply insulted me. As if his behavior weren’t that of someone who is controlling, possessive and abusive. My rage comes back. He has broken our trust, thrown away years of friendship and love.
“You’re right,” I say, pretending I am calm.
“There is something I would like to show you,” he looks desperate. “It won’t justify my actions, but maybe, I don’t know. Maybe you will understand.”
“You mean there is a reason to hit me and .....” I choke on the words and look away.
“No, I don’t think any of that. Char, please, I just need to show you something.”
Henri opens the door and walks into the hallway. Lance stands guard and his presence gives me courage. He follows Henri and me toward the back of the chateau. Toward the narrow door leading to the back servants stairwell and the lower levels.
Once we pass through the sterile hallway and stand in Henri’s office, he tries to shut the door but Lance braces his arm against it, his blue eyes threatening, in the doorway.
“I discovered something after Emily died,” Henri says, backing away from Lance. At his computer, he punches buttons and a screen pops up on the large monitor above the white counter. A bunch of lines jump out at me, different colors and numbers.
“What is this?”
“Remember I told you I had discovered a gene, a possible cure for many different diseases?” Henri asks.
I nod.
He points to the screen and a series of different colored worm looking things. “See this? This is your DNA.”
“What? How did you get this?”
“After the accident, Aydin’s blood was healing you so rapidly, it was astounding,” he says, looking at the screen. “Stephan and I couldn’t figure out why. The repercussions of what he had done had yet to show itself. Their blood is very powerful, too powerful for humans.”
“So it really was Aydin’s blood that healed me?” I swallow around the bile rising in my throat. Abigail had told me this when she revealed about Aydin and the night Emily died, but the reality has yet to set in.
“Yes. He took a big risk. They do not give their blood to humans, even though it can heal us.” Henri turns to look at me. “Every person reacts differently. Some it is like a drug, the affects are a temporary feeling of elation. Others it heals or makes stronger. Some go into a catatonic state, but as soon as it enters the body, it starts to invade. It takes over every cell, trying to change it. Eventuality, the person becomes very ill and dies.”
I want to ask him how he knows this, but am scared of the answer he will give me. “I’m fine, right? Will I get sick?”
“No, you are fine, amazing really,” Henri says. He moves to his computer and hits more keys. Different images pop up, more squiggly worms and colors. Except these look different. There are threads attached the each one, like they have been stitched on. “These are your cells after the accident. As you can see, they have been affected.”
“Affected how?”
“When Aydin’s blood entered your body, it went straight for the one gene it recognized.”
“What do you mean?”
“Scientists can not figure out why a cell splits and creates a twin. We know why fraternal twins are born, there is a gene for this that gets carried on. But, we have yet to discover if there is a particular hereditary gene for identical twins.” He pauses to make sure I’m following what he is saying. “Until now.”
“You're telling me, this gene you discovered, is, in fact, the gene that makes identical twins?”
“Yes.” He looks back to the screen and points to it. “Vampires are from one of the original Twins in the creations stories. Aydin’s blood, vampire blood, found its original source, the gene that you carry.”
“I don’t understand how this has anything to do with medicine and gene therapy.” I’m so confused, I’ve forgotten I am angry.
“Think of their blood like a living organism, looking for a host. Instead of seeing foreign, sick, or damaged cells, Aydin’s blood saw something it knew. It copied some areas of your DNA and replaced others. It’s astounding really. Maybe that is why you healed so quickly. Why instead of reacting badly, it helped you. Maybe even still does. Because of how it invaded, we can now see how their blood can be used for medicinal purposes. We can turn it into a therapy for any type of mutation. Maybe even over time, eradicate them all together.”
“All this, because I carry an old twin gene?” I look back to the images on the screen. “What are all these strange thread like things?”
“It is extra DNA,” he says. Henri flips through more images, but in different colors, all threaded with strange red strings. “Aydin’s blood welded itself to different cells in your body. It’s completely changed the way you
r body works.”
I stare at the screen. His words refuse to sink in, I won’t let them. “What does this mean?”
“It means Char, every single cell in your body has been affected. All the way down to the ones in your brain. The parts that make decisions and make you feel emotions.” Henri looks deflated. I am beginning to understand. “When I saw this, I lost it. It’s no wonder you are attracted to him. You can’t help it.”
He is apart of me. He has invaded my entire body, all the way to my core. My own personal code has been rewritten. Aydin has taken over my thoughts and my desires. Is that why I could feel his presence? No. I have known him before, maybe it is just more pronounced. I can barely be near him without feeling every raw emotion he feels.
“See, Char, it’s not real,” Henri says, softly. “I’m not saying that this excuses what I did. I’m trying to show you that, I thought I was going to lose you. Again. I can’t lose you, Char.”
There is this small part of me that can feel his anguish. I have the urge to rub my thumb over the crease around his mouth. Smooth out the sorrow, and lines at his eyes, easing his pain. But, I don’t. I can’t. The damage has been done. I let his confession fall to the floor where it shatters, piercing us both. The shards a spectrum of colors. Love, promises, memories, lay scattered at our feet.
“You lost me a long time ago, Henri.”
“Char,” he says my name, a plead.
“Does Aydin know this?” I ask, ignoring the tightening in my chest. I glance at Lance briefly, before returning my eyes to Henri.
“No.”
“Make sure he never finds out,” I say and walk from the room.
Chapter Thirty-five
The idea formed itself in my mind. It is a pretty good one. Simple, just like the best-laid plans always are. Too many complications leave room for errors. Too many ways to get caught. My plan for escape is fool proof. Except for one thing. It will never work.
In the Shadow of Angels: The Guardian Series 1 Page 26
