She knelt there and sobbed until there were no more tears left inside, until she was a hollow shell of herself. Her heart was dried up and empty. Her hope was gone. She knew her godmother would try to find a way to save her, knew her maman had promised she would be free, but Alliana couldn’t believe in the promise of their words right now.
How could they get her out of a place like this without being killed? She didn’t even want them to try. As for her magic, well that remained to be seen, but she was completely powerless in that area as of yet, and the medallion was gone. She didn’t even know what it was supposed to do when she turned eighteen anyway, and right now it didn’t matter. It could have all the power in the world and it still would be useless. The power it held would do her no good lying in the dirt. Would her clan even find it? Would they even know she no longer possessed it? The soldiers would have sent them on their way before daylight, making the chances of her clan seeing the small golden charm lying in the dirt very slim.
Alliana moaned in anguish as all these doubts filled her mind, crying out at the injustice of it all, cursing Mikhal the Merciless, for all he’d done to her, and those she loved. She was drowning in despair and couldn’t stop the self-pity that washed over her in waves. She’d never be loved, never be free, never be happy. It was better to banish all those feelings from her soul right now so he couldn’t hurt her. Her only hope was that her child would have enough human inside him to be able to love her back just a little, then her life wouldn’t be completely hopeless and without meaning. Maybe he would have just the glimmer of a soul, and he’d love her like she needed to be loved. The other option was that he would be a horrid beast like his father, never giving her an ounce of affection, and making her prison even colder. That was something Alliana couldn’t even think about without going insane.
She knelt there for a long time, feeling hopeless, lost and alone, then the fiery spirit that had caused so much trouble in her life began to flicker inside her once more, and the will to go on began to rise up in her soul. Alliana knew that if she crumbled before him, Mikhal the Merciless would make her life a living hell. She also knew that while it was true he became angry at times when she showed her defiance, he also seemed amused and captivated when she held up her chin and maintained her dignity. It would be a fine line to walk, living among the shadows of evil, but Alliana had faith in her strength to endure and her ability to keep her captor interested in her.
She would not become a meek little toy for him to use and throw away. Instead, she would fight back, if and whenever she could. She'd hold her head high, and demand respect as his wife and the mother of his child as was her due. Alliana was determined that if there was one thing Mikhal the Merciless wasn't going to do, it was to grow tired of her. Her survival lay in that. He was terrible, but being given to Marishka and the lesser vampires was worse.
He wasn't going to tire of her and toss her out like so much useless rubbish. She'd stand tall and be strong and face life’s adversity as it came, one day at a time, and though her captor couldn't love her, or her he, she would make him come to show her a certain degree of honor, however grudgingly. Alliana knew her life was going to be hard and unpleasant, but she was going to survive. She'd survive, and when she turned eighteen, she would use whatever magicks were bestowed on her to send Mikhal the Merciless straight to the bowels of hell.
Her decision made, feeling better and stronger for the flicker of hope that had sprung anew in her heart, Alliana rose and looked around her new prison. It was opulent. Nothing like her tiny wagon, and it felt all the more horrid because of it. The cavernous ceiling and huge expanse of the room made her feel tiny. She longed for the comfort of her old home. Everything there had its place. Every corner filled with their treasures.
Her bed in the wagon had been cozy, and this one was expansive and cold looking. Alliana didn't know how she'd ever sleep in it. Plush rugs cushioned her feet, fine throws and furs covered the bed, tapestries adorned the walls, but it was barren of warmth all the same. It was too big and completely uninviting for a girl who had grown up living in a small wagon and playing under the sun and stars.
Alliana held a candle high, and looked upward, seeing that yes, there were indeed windows, high in the wall. She could possibly reach one of them if she stood on the dressing table, but all of them were shuttered tightly, allowing no light to seep in. The room would be just as dark come dawn, as it was right now. She longed to try and reach the window, to pry it open and gaze at the stars, to know that sunlight would stream in come morning, but she also suspected that doing so would cause much trouble. Alliana surmised that if dear Marishka were to come sweeping in and be killed by the beautiful glorious sun, Alliana herself would find herself in grave peril. Lord Arcos would probably frown on that turn of events.
The idea of it all caused a little smile at the corner of her mouth, just a hint of one mind you, but it was there nonetheless, and it did her heart some good. The idea of Marishka's demise was actually quite heartening. Turning, Alliana went to the dinner tray that had been brought up for her. She lifted the cover to find a roasted partridge, tiny potatoes, and some carrots. It looked normal, and smelled delicious. Was it safe to eat? She supposed that they had regular food for the servants who weren't vampires, and Lord Arcos had no desire to poison her, so it must be all right. Giving in to the rumblings of a stomach that hadn't had such a meal in a long, long time, Alliana pulled a chair over and began to eat with relish. There was no sense in wasting good food.
When she was done, Alliana sat back, hands folded over her stomach, contemplating her next move. If she dwelled on her feelings, she came dangerously close to tapping into the panic boiling just beneath the surface, so Alliana quickly pushed thoughts of her family away. Instead, she rose and walked to the bath. She dipped her hand in the water. It was still warm, and admittedly very inviting, but it was quite forbidden and the thought of getting in never crossed her mind.
An assortment of bathing items was laid out on a small pedestal table near the tub. Soap, bath salts and oil, a sponge, a thick towel, but no clothe. The sponge would be too messy if she didn’t actually get in. She bent and tugged off one of her petticoats, then tore a long strip from the hem. It would do just as well. One had to make compromises, and she doubted she’d be wearing her old clothes again.
Glancing suspiciously at the door, hoping Marishka had been telling the truth when she said Alliana would be left alone; Alliana slowly began to undress. She pulled her loose, billowing blouse over her head, then removed her camisole as well, hugging herself, not because of a chill, but because she felt so vulnerable in her nakedness. Quickly admonishing herself, feeling the need to be clean, she stripped off her skirt, the remaining petticoats, and her bloomers, until she was bare.
Twisting her hair into a knot at her neck, Alliana dipped her make shift washing cloth in the tub, and then lathered it up with the soap. The scent that reached her as she did so, made her eyes widen in pleasure. She then closed them and breathed in deeply. The fragrance was like the first blossoms of spring. The lather was so silky too. Alliana quickly soaped her arms and body, scrubbing away the lingering touch of her captor. She then dipped the cloth over and over in the warm tub as she rinsed herself. A small pool of water appeared at her feet though she was careful, but it couldn’t be helped. She’d told Marishka taking a bath was marime’ and yet she still hadn’t given her the needed things. No matter, she’d wipe it up as best she could when she was done, using the one towel available.
When she was finished, Alliana went to the dressing table and took up the brush, working slowly through her tangled locks. She refused to wash her hair. She needed someone to pour water over it, to have a constant flow. She wouldn’t put her head in the tub and subject herself to filth. Lord Arcos may have made her a prisoner, but he couldn’t drive her beliefs from her soul.
As she worked, the panic began to seep in again, but Alliana pushed it away once more. She wouldn’t give in. She couldn’
t give in. Mikhal the Merciless would despise her if she were a simpering, cowering ninny. He’d tire of her and when that happened, her life would become even worse. Alliana knew there was no going back. If he made the decision to toss her away, it wouldn’t be out the gates of Castle Arcos and back to her family.
When she was finally done, and her hair shone in the candlelight, Alliana set down the brush and looked towards the bed. She was exhausted and needed to sleep. She didn’t know what horrors tomorrow would bring, but she had no doubt they would be plentiful.
She went to the bed, skin pink and golden from her recent scrubbing. It glowed in the firelight, as did her hair, which cascaded like a molten waterfall down her back. She allowed the towel to fall to her feet as she reached to pick up the night shift, and then frowned when she did so. It was so very flimsy and indecent. Made of the thinnest of silk, it would hug her every curve, luxurious yes, respectable, absolutely not. What if someone came in the morning before she was dressed? What if someone came in as she slept? She simply couldn’t wear it.
Allowing it to fall to the floor in a shimmering white puddle, Alliana held her arms across her body and looked down at her clothes. They were filthy indeed, torn and streaked with dirt. They also smelled horse sweat and him. The thought of putting them on and crawling between the sheets was extremely unpleasant.
She went to the wardrobe, searching for something more decent, and rummaged through the gowns. All were beautiful and completely unsuitable to wear to bed, and all the night shifts were of the same variety as the one she’d rejected. There wasn’t even a dressing robe to be found. Moving to the large armoire, Alliana opened the drawers, hoping the room contained clothing for both sexes. Perhaps it was a guest room and she’d be in luck.
She found just what she was looking for there. Alliana pulled out a large billowy shirt and slipped it over her head. The silky fabric came to her knees and the sleeves fell well past her fingertips even when she rolled each one up three times, but it covered her all the same. Alliana thought it was perfect. She laced up the ties at the neckline, hiding the swell of her bosom, and smiled, completely satisfied with her find. It would do very nicely and she didn’t give a fig that it was meant for a man. It didn’t smell like that despicable demon, and that was all that mattered.
Yawning, Alliana went to the fireplace and carefully placed a half dozen logs in the enormous hearth. She knew the room would be dark as pitch when she awoke and she’d need the fire from the banked coals to light the candles and get the blaze going once morning came. She had no desire to ring for a servant, not knowing what type of creature would tend her. Being left alone was quite all right with Alliana. Satisfied, she moved the heavy protective grate into place, and made sure she had a bundle of tinder right at hand, and then went back to the bed.
Pulling the heavy velvet drapery completely open on one side, Alliana turned back the furs and the sheets and crawled in. The bed was softer than anything she’d ever slept on, but it was cold, and much too big for her liking. She couldn’t reach out across the wagon from it, to touch her maman’s outstretched hand. It swallowed her up in its vastness. She pulled the curtain closed once more, knowing the room would grow cold during the night, and lay back against the pillows, closing her eyes, and forcing the images of her last glimpses of her camp and her family from her mind. Those memories sharpened the pang of homesickness that lay like a lump in her throat and caused hot tears to burn behind her eyelids, so they were not allowed. Taking a deep breath, she tried to simply let the weariness overtake her and wash away her pain.
She lay there in the stillness for a long while, listening to the wind moan against the shutters, letting it lull her to sleep, her mind finally drifting to that peaceful place of refuge, when her ears picked up the sound of the door bolt being softly slid from where it had locked her in. She tensed, knowing not who had come to disturb her in the night, but also knowing whoever it was, it didn’t bode well.
She lay still as stone, opening her eyes just a crack, to peek at the surrounding curtains. Orange firelight danced across them, turning the furniture into distorted shadows. A figure approached and Alliana knew at once who it was, even though he was hidden from her. She’d come to know Mikhal the Merciless’s form very well in the time spent pressed against him on his steed. It seemed her soon to be husband was paying her a visit in the dead of night.
Alliana squeezed her eyes shut, feigning sleep as Mikhal approached the bed. He paused before drawing back the curtains, knowing she was awake. His enhanced hearing picking up the terrified pounding of her too rapid heartbeat, and the quick shallow breaths she was trying desperately to still.
He reached out and grasped the heavy velvet drape, pulling it aside to afford himself a view of the woman who had haunted his mind even as he fed from another beauty brought up from the dungeon. The sight before his eyes took him aback. Her cheeks were rosy, a hint of pink over smooth golden skin, even lovelier now that she was clean. Her hair had been brushed and spread out about her on the pillow like a gilded halo, fine as gossamer, more beautiful than spun gold.
One hand was pressed under her cheek, and the other up under her chin as she lay on her side facing him. She was curled up like a child, and seemed almost as small as one in the massive bed. Mikhal vowed then and there, that she wouldn’t spend another night alone.
As he pulled the sheet up over her slim shoulder, his fingers brushed the silk of the man’s shirt she wore. Puzzled, he looked around for the seductive gown he knew Marishka would have provided and saw it pooled on the floor at his feet. The sight made him smile. The little chit was making her own rules in his house. She had fire, this one did.
Mikhal leaned down to kiss her luscious mouth, and her lips trembled, giving her away as he drew near, but he allowed her to maintain her ruse. He kissed her gently this time as his hand cupped her chin. Lips moving across hers in the sweetest of kisses, feather light and oh so soft. It was the kiss of a tender lover. The hardness of before was gone completely as he drank of her honeyed lips and ran a thumb over her cheek, caressing her supple skin, before pulling back as a surprisingly strong surge of lust seared his loins. His body’s reaction to Alliana was unexpected, unplanned, and a bit disconcerting, and the intensity of it turned his voice gruff.
“Sleep well, my little Gypsy bride. I wait in great anticipation for us to be wed.” That said; Mikhal backed away, closing the curtain and silently moving from the room, leaving Alliana alone to contemplate his astonishing gentleness.
Chapter Six
Alliana awoke in total darkness, blinking, confused. Where was she? She spread her arms wide, feeling the great expanse of the bed she lay in, the fingertips of one hand brushing the heavy velvet drapery that surrounded her, causing all the haunting memories from the night before to come crashing back upon her. The castle. She was deep in the bowels of Arcos Castle, being held by a sadistic evil vampire and his demented sister.
Cold hearted, despicable, twisted, hideous, and repulsive, the words filled her head as she remembered the night before, and how he’d yanked her from her family’s loving arms. She then remembered his tender kiss when he’d stolen into her chamber and thought she was sleeping. Why he was different then? Was it because she wasn’t awake to witness his change of demeanor? That made no sense. He was evil through and through and had shown many times over that he cared nothing for her feelings.
His odd behavior had startled and bewildered her last night, and it perplexed her still, but it did nothing to penetrate the cold hard fortress that she’d built up around her heart. It didn’t matter that he was wickedly handsome and that he could apparently be quite charming if the mood struck him, she knew he was evil to his rotten core; a soulless creature that fed on others and fetched human playthings for his insane sister.
Alliana sighed; there was no used dwelling on Mikhal the Merciless’s attributes. It didn’t matter in the least. She was trapped, well and good, and here she would stay as long as it suited him, or
until she turned eighteen. Once she was of age though, he’d better beware because no matter what her powers turned out to be, she planned to use every last one of them to destroy him.
She heard the door bolt slide open and frowned. Marishka had promised she wouldn’t be disturbed. Her body told her it was morning because she felt rested, so Alliana doubted it was Lord Arcos again. Who was invading her precious privacy? It annoyed her that Marishka couldn’t be held to her word in even this simplest of things. A horrid thought then struck her. What if she’d slept the day away because of her exhaustion and it was time to prepare for her wedding? It made her sick to think her time of reprieve was over. In the end, Alliana decided it was best to face the new intruder and see what fate had in store for her. Hiding behind the drapes would accomplish nothing.
She flung open the curtain to find a young woman slowly lighting the candles in her room. The girl turned, startled, her face a mask of fear. Alliana felt instant pity for her. She knew exactly how the woman felt, trapped behind these walls. They stared at each other, neither knowing quite what to say until Alliana broke the silence.
“Is it time for me to prepare for my... wedding?” The word stuck in her throat like a lump of clay, almost gagging her.
“No, My Lady. I was told to light your room and start the fire in your hearth.”
“I see.” Alliana gazed at the woman, trying to decide if she was one of the undead, but her appearance gave no clue. Her demeanor spoke of fear it was true, but the boy in the courtyard had been terrified and she didn’t know what type of being he was. All who served Lord Arcos had reason to hold fear in their hearts. She decided to ask. Perhaps if the woman was human, they could be friends. “What’s your name?”
Beneath the Shadows of Evil... Taken Page 6
