by Rita Vetere
Neither of them had regretted moving here from England two decades ago. Life in the romantic city, with its stunning architecture and surrounded as it was by the sparkling waters of the Adriatic, had an idyllic, fairy-tale quality they both found enchanting, despite the tourists that flooded the place on a daily basis.
The fact that he and Nathaniel had displayed no outward signs of aging for the past ninety years or so made it difficult for them to remain in one place for long stretches of time. Both of them were just over two centuries old, even though to mortals they appeared to be in their mid-thirties. Ever mindful that their Cambion natures must remain hidden to humans, they seldom lingered in one spot for very long.
Throughout their long lives, they had dedicated themselves to reconciling their spiritual personalities with their mortal natures. As had always been the case for Thomas and Nathaniel, their humanness took precedence over their incubus tendencies, and they sought to dwell contentedly in the mainstream of human existence.
Unfortunately, no female Cambions existed with whom they could consort, a fact that weighed more and more heavily on both of them as the years ground on. However, they regularly indulged in brief liaisons with mortal women, whose company they truly enjoyed. The handsome brothers were seldom seen about Venice unless accompanied by a striking beauty. Despite their origins, Thomas and Nathaniel had managed to live long, rich and fulfilling lives in the world of mortals. But their contentment was about to come to a screeching halt.
As he surveyed the sun-drenched Piazza San Marco, a deep pang of regret cut through Thomas. The fact that they'd been ordered to return to England meant that he and Nathaniel would not be enjoying the view, or their comfortable life in Venice, for much longer.
"We need to talk, brother,” he said to Nathaniel, who peeked out from behind his newspaper when Thomas spoke.
* * * *
Nathaniel put the paper aside and looked sharply at his brother when he heard the grave tone of Thomas's voice.
Despite the fact that they had been birthed by the same mortal mother, Nathaniel differed greatly in appearance from his fair-haired brother. Thomas's complexion was fair, his hair thick and blond like their mother's had been. In striking contrast, Nathaniel sported a shock of raven-black hair, his complexion Mediterranean. He closely resembled their father, Ahriman.
"What's the matter, Thomas?"
"I've just received a disturbing call."
Nathaniel looked at his brother, waiting. Whatever news had arrived, it didn't bode well, judging by the thunderclouds that had gathered in Thomas's blue eyes.
"From Christopher,” he added.
"Shit,” muttered Nathaniel, “what did he want?” There was certainly no love lost between the brothers and Christopher. Or between them and their father, for that matter, although they'd never dared to voice their distaste for Ahriman to anyone but each other. They were not fools.
Both he and Thomas had believed Ahriman to be out of their lives for good when his visitations to the mortal world had ceased almost two centuries ago. They'd been shocked and dismayed to learn of Ahriman's return to the mortal world just over twenty years ago. Ahriman's return had, in fact, prompted them to leave England immediately.
"There's been a development,” said Thomas, “although Christopher wouldn't say what. Just that Ahriman has ordered us to return to England."
Nathaniel's annoyance transformed into worry. He and Thomas had succeeded, for the most part, in remaining outside the circle of Ahriman's earthly endeavors for the past two decades. Neither of them wanted anything to do with their father's undertakings in the mortal world. The powerful spirit who had fathered them had lost whatever trace of humanity he'd possessed long before they'd come along. As children, their early encounters with Ahriman before he'd disappeared had left them with a deep-seated hatred for the cold-hearted being who called himself their father. And Ahriman's treatment of the mortal women he chose to consort with repulsed them. They knew only too well that most of the women he used to satisfy his unbridled lust had ended up dead at his hands. Their own mother had been one of Ahriman's victims.
Nathaniel himself had no memory of his mother. She'd died shortly after birthing him. Thomas, though, had been eight years old when he witnessed their mother's murder at Ahriman's hands in 1794. Thomas still carried a small locket-sized portrait of their mother with him, just as he carried his enmity for their murderous father in the secret recesses of his heart. An enmity which Nathaniel also shared.
"We're to leave immediately,” Thomas said. “Today."
Nathaniel sighed in resignation. Like Thomas, he knew that such a call meant something of epic proportion had occurred and, as such, could not go unheeded. “I'll phone the airline.” Following his brother's gaze to the square below, he said, “I'm going to miss this place."
Thomas didn't answer, and worry flooded over Nathaniel again. The look on his brother's face assured him things were about to get very bad indeed.
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Chapter 29
Ahriman sipped cognac from a snifter, savoring the taste of the amber liquid as it burned a path down his throat. So many new sensations, and so much time, now, to explore them.
It had taken him almost a full week following Pandora's birth to adjust to his new state. The human condition had long ago ceased to be familiar to him, and he'd needed to re-learn the signs of hunger, the requirement for sleep, and all of the other bodily functions to which mortals were prone. It was a task he applied himself to willingly now that his energy had been made concrete in the physical plane.
Disembodiment, he was pleased to discover, remained a choice but no longer a necessity. Never again would he be required to return to the dreary hidden realm in order to effect his materialization in the mortal world. Certainly, he had no desire to return to the sub-astral plane. His new life began here and now, in the mortal world.
He sighed in satisfaction. His journey had been a long one, but he'd finally succeeded. That which he had longed for since his soul's entry into the dark realm had finally come to pass. Immortality in the physical plane was his at last.
No permanent damage could now be caused to his physical body. He had, since Pandora's birth, tested the boundaries, so to speak. The knife he'd driven into his arm had penetrated his flesh and caused him to bleed, but the wound had almost immediately sealed shut, leaving no mark. He'd felt no pain, only a prickly feeling as the blade entered and exited.
Next, he'd taken a firearm and gone out into the woods. Risky, but he needed to know exactly what his body could withstand. The impact of the gunshot he'd fired into himself had tossed him back, and he'd suffered a moment's panic as he surveyed the tiny hole in his stomach and the blood that gushed from it. In the next instant, however, his abdomen spat the bullet back out and, once again, the wound sealed itself quickly, leaving no trace of injury.
There was nothing extraordinary about his physical strength, he learned. His attempts to lift unusually heavy objects proved unsuccessful. And he moved roughly at the same speed as ordinary mortals as well, although if he needed to get somewhere in a hurry, he could always disembody and move about as a spirit. His ability to glamour mortals, he was pleased to discover, had not diminished in the least.
He rose from the chaise upon which he'd been ruminating in the suite of rooms he'd converted to a nursery. Ahriman chose to remain close by his daughter since her birth and would continue to keep her under his watchful eye. Until Jasmine produced another child for him, Pandora's existence was the only means by which his immortality would be sustained. She was, therefore, his most precious possession.
He had allowed Jasmine the past week to recuperate from childbirth. Tomorrow he would pay her a visit. The sooner he got started producing another child, the better. Even in her present condition, Jasmine remained ravishingly beautiful, and he ached to join with her again. Aside from Pandora, she was still the most exquisite creature he'd ever laid eyes on. He'd had to fight the
temptation to take her immediately again after the birth. Not wanting to risk damage to her, though, he'd restrained himself. For that reason, he'd also called off the dark souls, who no longer visited her each night. They had inflicted enough pain on her for the time being. He had made his point. The drugs Stronik continued to administer to Jasmine would be enough to ensure her submissiveness.
He frowned, suddenly remembering the bolt of energy that had caused him to disembody on the day Jasmine had betrayed him. The more he thought about it, the more he became convinced that Jasmine possessed the rare ability to summon raw energy, a by-product of her hybrid nature, perhaps. He determined it would not be wise to take any chances with her. She would remain heavily sedated.
There was Carla to amuse himself with. She'd balked at first, when he explained she had no choice but to remain at his disposal for as long as he wanted. In the end, his faithful had convinced her, and she had submitted to his will. His ravenous appetite for sex had only increased since he'd assumed his permanent physical form. Now that he was eternally established in the mortal world, he'd spent many delightful hours with Carla following Pandora's birth. And once the breeding process with Jasmine got underway, there remained an endless supply of mortal women with whom he could mate if he so chose, now that his time was no longer subject to restriction.
Standing over the pristinely outfitted crib where Pandora rested, he looked at his daughter, who had just awakened. It pleased him to no end that the child had inherited his darkly beautiful looks. The only characteristic that betrayed her connection to Jasmine was the emerald ring around the irises of her black eyes—eyes as riveting as his own.
He had already begun to penetrate Pandora's thoughts, undeveloped though they were. As understanding grew in the child, he would have no trouble influencing her. Ultimately, like the other children he intended to father with Jasmine, Pandora would grow up to become a powerful being. He looked lovingly upon the baby, knowing that, in time, she would reign beside him.
A soft knock sounded on the door.
"Who is it?” he fairly growled, annoyed at the interruption.
"Christopher,” came the response. “Thomas and Nathaniel have arrived. They're waiting for you in the drawing room."
His tone softened at the sound of his favored son's voice. “I'll be right down,” he said, anxious to reunite with Thomas and Nathaniel. He'd seen little of his other sons over the past two decades since his awakening.
Before Ahriman left, he summoned the spirits of the faithful to watch over Pandora in his absence. They arrived immediately, filling the room. After paying their respects to Ahriman, their sinister forms jostled for position around the crib, crowding around Pandora.
A tiny smile curled his lip as Ahriman watched his daughter's magnetic eyes flitting back and forth among the deformed phantasms, appearing to draw them toward her. She was seeing them, he knew. And she did not cry.
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Chapter 30
Carla peeked out from behind the heavy velvet curtain of her bedroom window to see a sleek black Mercedes traveling along the road leading to the manor. Seconds later, it pulled up in front of the house, and Christopher emerged to greet the two exceptionally handsome men who exited the car. Thomas and Nathaniel, Ahriman's other sons. She'd overheard Christopher mention they'd be arriving today.
Just two days ago, Carla had caught her first glimpse of Pandora as Ahriman carried the tiny infant to Jasmine's room to be fed. The daughter Jasmine had given birth to was extraordinary. Even from a distance, Carla could see that the child was uniquely beautiful. Her exquisite looks were dark, like Ahriman's. Seeing the protective manner in which Ahriman held the child caused a chill to run up her spine. The thought of that madman instilling his poison into Jasmine's baby sickened her. Carla decided, after seeing Ahriman with Pandora, that she must do something—anything—to try to extricate herself, as well as Jasmine and her baby, from Ahriman's web of madness.
If only she could get to Jasmine. Her clever friend might be able to think of a way they could escape. But there was no point in trying to speak to Jasmine. Not while she remained drugged, unable to think, barely able to speak. No, she decided she had to first find a way to stop Stronik from drugging Jasmine. Then maybe the two of them could come up with a plan. She could no longer sit idly by and do nothing. Her own baby was due to arrive in another month. The thought of bringing a child into this evil environment terrified her.
The staff had been dismissed by Christopher the night before Pandora's birth and were not due to return for another week. Christopher had arranged for the kitchen help to arrive in the mornings to prepare the day's meals and then leave again. That meant the house would be empty most of the day, save for Ahriman, Christopher and Stronik—and now the new arrivals, Thomas and Nathaniel.
Ahriman and Christopher, she knew, would be meeting with Thomas and Nathaniel today, and hopefully they'd be tied up for an hour or two. She prayed Stronik would be invited to join them. That would give her time to look around and try to ferret out where Stronik kept his stash of medical supplies. If she could locate the medication while everyone was occupied, maybe she could figure something out.
She descended the staircase to the second floor landing and crouched down, so as to observe the newcomers unnoticed. The brothers, Thomas and Nathaniel, looked nothing alike. Both were tall and extremely attractive, but any resemblance ended there. One was fair-haired and blue-eyed, while the other bore Ahriman's dark good looks. Carla hated both of them on sight. No doubt they'd been summoned to assist Ahriman in carrying out his grand plan.
At three that afternoon, after hanging around the third floor landing above Stronik's suite for over an hour, she finally heard a soft knocking from the floor below, and the sound of a door being opened. Then Christopher's voice, saying “Thomas and Nathaniel have arrived. Ahriman's invited you to join us."
"Ah. Very kind of you,” came Stronik's reply. “I'll be right down."
Carla waited until she heard Christopher's footsteps recede down the stairway. A moment later, a door opened and closed, and Stronik's heavy steps sounded on the stairs.
When all was silent again, she raced down to the second level, and ran to the locked door of Jasmine's bedroom, knocking and calling out.
"Jasmine ... Jasmine, can you hear me? It's Carla."
She rattled the door knob and knocked several more times.
She heard a tiny sound from the other side, perhaps a weak cry of acknowledgment.
"Jazzy, can you get up?"
Carla put her ear to the door. She waited, but heard nothing further.
"Listen,” she said, hoping her friend could hear her, even if she was too weak to talk. “I'm trying to find a way to get us out of here. You, me and the baby. I'm working on it."
She listened at the door again, only silence answered.
"Jasmine. Can you hear me?"
Her friend did not respond.
"Don't worry,” she whispered through the door. “We're going to get out of here, somehow. I promise."
She wiped away the tears that spilled onto her face and headed for Stronik's suite down the hall, figuring the stash of medication to be somewhere in his rooms, and praying that he had not locked the door behind him. When she tried the door, it swung open, and she exhaled in relief. Glancing around furtively, she entered.
Once inside, she rummaged through the drawers of the furniture in the sitting area, but came up empty handed. In his bedroom, she opened dresser drawers and searched the closet, again finding nothing. Finally, she opened a connecting door that led into a small adjoining room. It contained a large cabinet that spanned one wall. Carla flung open the cupboard doors and struck pay dirt. Shelf after shelf was filled with vials of different sizes and colors. She picked them up one at a time, noting that the labels bore many different names, none of which she recognized.
Shit! Having gotten this far, she had no idea what to do next. Destroying the medication wou
ld be useless. Stronik could easily replace it; not to mention, with the staff gone, suspicion would fall on her when the fact was discovered. She had hoped to be able to switch the medication somehow, but had no idea where to begin. She picked up several of the vials, studying the strange, unpronounceable names. Minutes ticked by, and her nervousness increased.
Some of the vials contained clear liquid. What if she switched them with water? That might be a start.
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Chapter 31
Jasmine opened her eyes to the confusion which, by now, had become a way of life for her, and wondered whether she was dreaming when she found herself staring into Pandora's tiny face. Then she looked up to see Ahriman standing at her bedside, holding the infant out in front of her. The dark souls that always accompanied Ahriman jerked and crawled about the room, their excitement evident in their frenzied movements. It was time for Pandora's feeding.
After Ahriman placed Pandora on her lap, Jasmine instinctively drew the child close to her in an effort to protect her from the evil phantasms surrounding them. The dark souls hovered around the bed, reaching out for her daughter with their filthy hands as they cackled and murmured strange sounds of adulation.
Pandora could see them, Jasmine knew—she could tell by the way the infant's eyes flitted back and forth as the dark entities surrounded her. To keep her daughter from looking, Jasmine fought hard to focus on holding and keeping Pandora's gaze while the child fed from her breast.
All too soon, Pandora had taken her fill from first one breast and then the other. The moment the baby stopped taking nourishment, Ahriman quickly snatched her back, carrying her away to wherever he'd sequestered the child. The dark souls trailed after him. Jasmine could only stare helplessly as her daughter was once again taken from her. After Ahriman closed and locked the door behind him, Jasmine retreated to her only place of safety. She sought out Sephora.
