The Gates (The Resistance Trilogy)

by Rachael Wade

  “It is done.” She’d stopped shaking and opened her eyes, nodding to them. “The stone and debris will delay them. Now go.” Her watchmen hurried off with their orders while Dali and Akim returned to her side from wherever they’d cowered to. She set her eyes on Gavin again. “You think you can tell me these things and somehow it will make a difference. Somehow it will erase each aching day I crawled on my hands and knees through the castle, unable to stand because my agony forbade it, searching for my one and only daughter, the flesh of my flesh. You think it will erase the nights I spent weeping for the husband who betrayed me and the daughter who returned to me years later, no longer human, only to leave my side once again, this time of her free will.”

  The same strange empathy that invaded my thoughts when Vivienne had told me of Samira’s past with Arianna began creeping up on me again at the sound of her desolate voice. Seeing the remnants of loss on her face in person was a sight to behold. I fought to push the image away when Gavin and Vivienne’s warnings came back to scold me, but I then lifted my gaze to look at her, once again involuntarily captivated.

  She spoke again. “No, Mr. Devereaux. You can tell me no such thing that will ever erase that level of loss or betrayal.”

  “No, but I can give you closure.” Gavin’s voice had regained some of its strength. “Why is it you think I know so much about her—after she was taken from you? Do you have any idea what happened to her?” He attempted to stand again, fighting against knees that were surely wobbly, weak. “You don’t think I’ve experienced the same kind of betrayal?”

  Her eyes darted to his as if he’d revealed something to her, then they narrowed in anger. “Betrayal from an enemy is to be expected. Nothing can compare to the kind of betrayal that is dealt from a loved one. Nothing.”

  She gripped the footless doll in her hand and positioned a pin between her thumb and index finger. I wasn’t sure what had just passed between them, but at this point I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. She glided down the stairs to stand in front of him, her lips pressed into a thin, cold line, her shoulders stiff with rage. “Before I make you watch me kill every one of your friends, let’s have some fun first, shall we?”

  “I beg you, Samira. I beg you, I beg you. Don’t.” His voice was weak again and his eyes bounced between the weapons in her hands and my face. My teeth began to jitter and tremors wracked my body. “Camille, it’s going to be okay. Cam, look at me.”

  Scarlet’s laughter echoed through the room as she remained near the entryway, watching. The tremors worsened, and I couldn’t bring myself to keep my eyes on him, only able to carry my gaze to the ground. Samira began chanting in tongues I didn’t understand, each word rolling off her lips with chilling annunciation, each syllable seductive and distinct as she gripped the doll tighter, and tighter still. Her eyelids opened and closed every few seconds, the whites of her eyeballs rolling backward as her chants became heavier, more strangled. I felt my legs stiffen, being anchored to the ground. I grimaced at the restraint and began to panic, fighting to pull my feet and take a step forward, to no avail. Her hand shot forward and hovered over the doll before she drove the pin into its groin.

  I barely recognized my own voice when the scream burst from my lips. The top of my body buckled over and I was desperate to drop to the floor, only my feet were firmly planted and the luxury of falling wasn’t possible. Her eyes blazed as she watched me, maneuvering the pin and turning it, achingly slow, before withdrawing it and driving it in again, harder this time. I clutched my stomach and writhed with each attack, Gavin’s cries distant and muffled behind me. The front of my ivory dress dampened, blood soaking through it. Gavin dashed forward and reached for me, but Samira’s magic stopped him in midstride.

  “No!” he cried out and she swirled one hand in the air, flinging him up and across the room. I heard his body smack the wall, heard the thud when it landed. Samira stopped chanting and turned to retrieve a long, thin knife. She pinned the doll’s shoulder and mine jerked backward, another cry of agony escaping my throat. She moved from limb to limb and repeated the torture, then resumed her chant. I began to grow faint from the crippling pain and loss of blood, my airflow constricting as she worked the doll with her magic. My torso was half bent over, hanging lifeless on the weight of my hips, and I worked to glide my hands up to my neck, desperate for breath. I clawed at my throat, felt it contract beneath my fingers as I choked. And I knew she was strangling me from the inside out.

  “She’s dying, Mr. Devereaux.” Samira had come out of her trance, still holding the doll. “Do you not wish to save her before it is too late?”

  I felt the tightness around my throat loosen and immediately gulped up a breath. Samira stretched out her free hand and swished it in the air again, pulling Gavin up from the stone floor. He sailed toward me vertically, the tips of his feet skimming the stones as her magic directed him. She positioned him next to me and stepped forward, placing her face just inches from mine.

  “I won’t do this,” Gavin choked out, adamant.

  “Oh?” She leaned in closer to examine me, her gaze full of malice and breath hot on my cheek. She took one nail and pressed the tip of it down onto my neck, then began trailing it sideways to draw blood. Her eyes lingered on my necklace for a moment. My body’s reflex told me to squirm under her touch, but my weakness prevailed and I felt my eyelids grow heavy. “Change her.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Change her or watch her die.”

  “Gavin,” I pushed out a soft whimper. “Do it.”

  “You’ll kill her anyway.”

  “Perhaps. She’s deceived me in my kingdom. The law permits me to do to her whatever I wish. Come now, Gavin. It won’t be long,” Samira singsonged, smearing the trail of blood over my throat. She seized him with her magic and shoved him closer to me, tilting his neck to give him access to mine.

  “Please don’t let me die like this,” I whispered, rolling my eyes to meet his. “Hurry. Do it.”

  His gaze penetrated mine with unimaginable agony; his face contorted and his jaw set, tears gathering on the edges of his eyelids.

  Voices yelling and the crumbling of stone echoed in the distance, and Samira glanced toward the rear doors. “Now,” she breathed as the noises grew louder, ready to lean forward and sentence me herself. Gavin trembled at my neck, couldn’t take his eyes off mine. He was losing all bearing, his composure cracked and shattered into oblivion.

  “As you wish.” Samira grabbed my hair and yanked, tilting my head back to move in on my throat.

  He beat her to it and sprung his head forward as her head jutted backward to give him room.

  “Quickly,” she purred, her lips turned up into a smile.

  He angled his lips just below my ear and then peered up. I saw it in his eyes, first—the beginning of the end, the beginning of things to come. The blackest night, his eyes cut into me, paralyzing my trembling body. Not even the gods could sense my fear now, for the celebration of the monsters who’d claimed me drowned out all perception of pain. It was all-powerful, all-knowing, the definition of infinite, an overwhelming possession that consumed every inch of my being. His fangs tore into the tender flesh of my neck, and I knew all I’d never known would now be unveiled to me.

  And then came an unfamiliar lust. An intense desire for blood.

  Electrifying, the power spread, made its way like a tumultuous river with fierce rapids. Samira’s hold on me dissipated and I dropped to the floor. I could hear Scarlet’s giggling fade into the background. My eyes shot open, my back bent; the crippling force thrust my head backward, harder onto the cold stone ground. All I felt was fire. Pure fire: in my veins, in my throat, in my fingertips. Visions of a blazing furnace invaded my thoughts, complete with echoes of Samira’s rage, bottled up from generations old. Visions of her face danced across my consciousness. She was screaming and flailing around, fighting something or someone, I didn’t know what.

  The visions gave way to the sound of a guttural ro
ar, one that escaped her lips and infused me with every inch of her anger, thick and heavy, as if it had been weighed down to some deep, dark place for centuries, only no one ever bothered to lift it up. The visions finally disappeared but the screams remained, and the weight pressed harder on my chest, causing me to wail in pain. “You think you know things,” her silky voice echoed as I slowly slipped away, “but you’re really just asleep.”

  16

  FIRE

  The stone ground chilled my skin, which was still burning from the feel of the scorching flames running along my insides. I lay on the floor, lump-like, hearing everything around me with precise detail, each thing echoing and rattling as it made its sound. I managed to flutter my eyelids, opened them to find Samira’s throne room in chaos around me. How long have I been passed out?

  I hadn’t moved from the spot where Gavin had changed me. Our group of friends, who survived the river’s surge, had made their way past the rock rubble barricade Samira created to block the castle doors; they now danced around me, fighting off the guards by tossing their silver daggers and using their invisible, protective hedge to ward them off. They all looked haggard and had dark brown sacks with them, hanging over their shoulders. I scanned my surroundings for signs of Gavin or Scarlet. Scarlet was nowhere I could see, but I could hear Gavin yelling.

  Samira’s watchmen flew over and around me, their bodies bouncing everywhere as our friends tossed them about. Shouts and grunts filled the room while they battled their way toward me, and I heard Gavin call out to me. I caught sight of Samira sitting leisurely in her throne chair, tapping her nails on the armrest and watching the scuffle in front of her with wry amusement.

  “Cam!” Gavin darted toward me, ducking and dodging the fight that swarmed around him. He scooped me up into his arms and looked around frantically, as if searching for someone. “Josh, I need you!”

  Josh? Oh thank God.

  “Hang in there, baby,” he put his forehead to mine, “we’ve got you now.”

  “Audrey? Gabe?” My voice cracked; the room echoes reverberated as I heard myself speak. I could feel a headache brewing, felt my mouth parched and throat aching. Aching for blood.

  Josh’s face came into view, and I grasped hold of his hand as he leaned in to let his eyes roam over my face. “Not long now,” he said. “Come on, we have blood from the reserve.”

  He rose up and exchanged looks with Gavin, and I knew they were talking about me. My headache throbbed harder against my temples and my head rolled back when the pressure became unbearable. My skin suddenly missed the cool stone floor. My vision was blurry one second and then clear the next. And the restlessness didn’t leave me.

  Gavin adjusted me in his arms and carried me with Josh toward the others. We passed through their protective bubble and I was safe again. But my thirst still wasn’t quenched.

  “Someone tell me …” I managed to mumble, but everyone was busy taking guards out and inching their way to the center of the room, closer to the front entryway, moving in unison in the same protective circle they’d formed when we first arrived. Gavin kneeled down and kept me on his lap to reach for one of the brown sacks, looking up every few seconds to keep an eye on our surroundings.

  “Gavin,” I tried again, “what’s happening?”

  He pulled a bag of blood from one of the brown sacks and spoke in a lower whisper, “If you don’t drink this, the headache and burning will worsen. And you need strength.” He lowered the bag to my hand. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Audrey …”

  “She’s safe for now. She’s with Gabe in the haven. They missed the flood, Cecile sent them there before …”

  I took the blood from him, my eyes closing when I recalled Cecile’s death.

  “We’ll go get them, don’t worry.”

  The room started to quiet, only a few low groans from the immobile guards filling the space, backdrops for the sound of Samira’s claw-like nails, tapping away. Gavin stood again, keeping me tight against his chest, the others all turning to look to one another before turning their attention to Samira. Lifeless guards were scattered everywhere, some of them breathing but incapacitated from the silver knives in their hearts.

  “Are you satisfied?” Samira cocked an eyebrow.

  “Are you?” Gavin shot back, his voice low and vicious.

  “What is it you want now, Mr. Devereaux? You have your pet back, your blood, your friends. You wish to destroy me and lift the curse?”

  The room fell silent, our tiny flock locked together in a tight formation, all facing the queen. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure,” Gavin said. “But we have some things to take care of first.” He glanced at Josh. No doubt they exchanged thoughts of some sort; their eyes were full of unspoken hate. “Drink,” Gavin whispered, peering down at me. I looked at the bag. I craved it, but I stuffed the craving down, determined to wait. “You can end this right now, Samira,” Gavin growled. “Lift the curse and let everyone walk.”

  “I’m afraid I cannot do that.”

  “I think you can. And you should, if you ever want to see Arianna again.”

  Her nostrils flared at the mention of her daughter’s name. “Mr. Devereaux, you know as well as I that if everyone leaves Amaranth, I will be rendered powerless, as will Gérard. And that simply cannot happen. As for my daughter, you will tell me all I wish to know.”

  “So you wish to wait until the others arrive and let us destroy you. Very well, then.”

  She threw her head back with a wicked cackle, rolling her eyes. “Let them come, you fool. Have you not figured it out by now? Do you not know that you cannot kill me? Gérard’s magic protects me, to ensure that I remain alive to manage his power source. It makes no difference how large this army of yours will be. Only he has that power, and only he can rid you of the curse for good. The only reason I enlisted your help to restore my city’s order was to help ensure Gérard’s power source remains intact.”

  Gavin gritted his teeth and looked down at the blood bag in my hand. “You govern the city. You are the one who has the power to send people through the gates, to turn them human again. Set them free.”

  “Perhaps,” she shrugged, “but as I’ve just told you, that would leave Gérard with no power, and therefore, I will do no such thing. Besides,” a ghost of a smile painted her lips, “I assume you wish to be rid of the curse in its entirety, not merely to set the humans free from exile, correct?”

  Everyone glanced at one another, uncomfortable, but Gavin kept his face stern as he stared straight ahead. The burning was consuming me and I gripped the bag in my hand, knowing I couldn’t hold out much longer. I didn’t want her to see me drink, didn’t want to give her the satisfaction.

  “You’d rather save yourself than be reunited with your daughter,” he said. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

  “I will both save myself and have my daughter soon enough.” She stood from her throne, resigned from the conversation. Turning to stand near the altar, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve said it once and I shall say it again. That little spell of yours won’t protect you forever. I can assure you, I will keep my word and kill every single one of you when I see fit. Until then, however, I intend to keep you alive until you tell me everything I want to know.”

  She began fluffing the long velvet sash on the altar, dressing it lightly across the dolls and supplies as she spoke. Her words were sincere, her threats legitimate. But underneath her steely confidence was a shaky structure. Something told me she was afraid, uncertain. Why? The burning worsened. “Ahhh,” I moaned, and pressed my fingers to my forehead.

  Gavin glanced down at me, his eyes nervous. “I don’t think so.” He turned to the others and nodded. “Let’s go,” he said, and began leading them toward the rear doors. “We’ll see you when the crescent moon rises,” he said to Samira without turning to look at her.

  “Mr. Devereaux,” she called out after him, her tone mocking, “about that betrayal you mentioned …
” She picked a new doll and retrieved the same long pin she’d used on me. “Dali, Akim, come.”

  The wolves emerged from the doorway, and gasps filled the room while Josh suddenly grabbed me from Gavin’s arms. He struggled to hold me himself, his jaw dropping and eyes glued on the tall, thin woman who had appeared with the wolves.

  She looks familiar, like … The fear I sensed in Samira dissolved, her confidence suddenly soaring. I pushed through the burning, trying to make sense of it, but the sharp pain prevented me from focusing.

  And then I understood the similarity, understood why Samira’s uncertainty had faded. No. Not happening, not happening—

  “Always prepared,” Samira cooed, toying the pin between her fingers, smirking at everyone’s astonishment. I blinked and squirmed in Josh’s arms, the shooting pain leaving me on the brink of breakdown, but Gavin slumping to his knees commanded my attention.

  “No. No. No.” His whole body sagged, a deep sob rupturing through his voice as he rocked back and forth. “Mo—Mom. No … no …”

  The woman stared back at him in horror, her tears instant. “Gavin?” She tried to rush forward but lost her footing. Her arms shook the cuffs that restrained them. “You monster!” she screamed at Samira, keeping her eyes on Gavin. “What have you done to my son? Oh, oh, oh, my son, my son!”

  Samira ignored the woman’s cry and turned her attention to Gavin, her arrogant countenance thriving at the sight of his brokenness. “Now, then. Have your friends remove their protection spell, and then you can tell me all about Arianna before I kill your mother here.”

  * * *

  The warm Louisiana breeze sent balmy gusts around the driveway and the Spanish moss rustled in the wind, the sound defined and eerie, reminding me of how deathly quiet it was. No one was around and everything felt stale and somber. I stood in front of Gavin’s plantation home and had the urge to reach into my jeans pocket, scrambling to find the skeleton key. Surveying the yard once more, I dashed inside and ran up the exhausting flight of stairs to the second floor, wrestling with each doorknob. I made my way down the hall to each door, attempting to unlock them one by one. Nothing budged. What kind of skeleton key didn’t unlock any of the doors in a house? Wasn’t that opposite of how it was supposed to work?