Midnight's Jewel (Siren Publishing Classic)
Page 8
“But I don’t know how a rock’s going to do all that. Sounds bizarre to me,” she added and then began drifting off to sleep.
From outside the darkness that was overtaking her, she heard a smooth, deep voice say, “I love you, Sabrina Rivers, for what it’s worth.” The voice dissipated the further into the dark she delved.
The next thing she knew, she was looking down on a bright throne room. Everything was covered in gold. Archways lined each side of the room. In each niche stood a pedestal topped with a statue draped in shiny silver fabric except two. The occupied niches reminded her of Greek and Roman statues of the gods and goddesses she had seen in books. In place of the two missing statues were a golden sun and a silvered moon. Stained-glass windows surrounded the top of the walls.
Footsteps and shouted pleas echoed from beyond the throne room. A heavy moan of complaint came from the far end of the room. It was difficult to make out the source without squinting. A floor-to-ceiling window surrounded the throne with intense sunlight. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust. Sitting in the elaborate pillow-covered throne atop a dais was the most beautiful man Sabrina had ever seen. Ordinarily she would have assigned the word handsome or dashing to describe a man, but this man was masculine with a few feminine features. They softened the hard lines, rounded the sharpness she would expect in a masculine jaw and chin. Androgynous would have been a better description than man. Somehow, she knew this creature was a flesh-and-blood male.
He was dressed in tunic of rich gold and silver-tone velvets accented with white silk sleeves. A thick belt of white leather studded with silver looped through a gold braided belt buckle. White silk pants ended in white leather boots with silver toe caps.
The heavy gold doors opposite the throne were flung open. Between two silver-clad guardsmen dangled a man dressed like Camo Guy from her shop. He begged and pleaded for mercy and the chance to explain. The guards dropped their charge in front of the throne.
“Please, my lord, please! I wasn’t in the shop. I don’t know what went wrong. She was there alone, like she was supposed to be, and Kyle went in without me. I watched from across the street. He couldn’t get the necklace off her. She blasted him with some kind of dark light. He pulled his knife and went after her into the back room. The fairy showed back up, and I lost sight of him. I don’t know what happened. Honest!”
In a tone so calm it sent chills up her spine, the beautiful man focused on his fingernails and said, “I don’t want excuses. If I wanted those, I’d talk to my children. And I never talk to them. You had one task. Retrieve the girl, alive and unharmed. Pulling a knife would be rather contradictory to your orders, would it not?”
“But I didn’t…”
“Silence! It was a rhetorical question,” he said in the same chilly, calm tone.
He looked down at the man and rose. The dais had two steps between the floor and the top. The ruler stopped on the step head level with the cowering man. He lashed out with his right foot, landing the blow in Camo Guy #2’s face. The man’s head snapped back. Blood splattered the floor. The guards dropped him and stepped away.
A look of disgust crossed the ruler’s face. There was blood on his boots. The man whimpered in pain and fear, spitting teeth into his hand. He was still softly pleading for mercy. The ruler returned to the throne, pulled a heavy sword from the side Sabrina could not see, and leapt off the dais onto the prone man. The sword buried into his back and stopped when it hit the floor. The man screamed and attempted to pull it out.
“My lord, Lucifer, please! Have mercy!” Camo Guy #2 choked, blood running from his nose and mouth.
“Oh, all right, mercy it is.” He withdrew the sword. The man attempted to get up but was unable to do more than roll into a ball on his side. Lucifer lifted the sword over his head and brought it down on the man’s neck. The calm disgust never left. There was no other outward emotion.
Sabrina screamed in horror. She capped her hands over her mouth. Lucifer spotted her floating near the ceiling. It took him a moment to recognize her.
“Aradia? No. You!” he roared. His face contorted into an evil snarl. “Where is the necklace? Where is Midnight’s Jewel?”
Before she could answer, he threw the sword at her. It twisted and twirled through the air in slow motion. She knew it would hit her. Then, everything went back to darkness.
“Sabrina! Wake up! It’s just a dream. Wake up!”
She was being shaken. She opened her eyes to find Brandon hovering over her. The screaming ended in a sob. He lifted her into his lap and cradled her. She clung to him, her safe rock. He shushed her and rocked back and forth whispering, “It was only a dream.”
Once she regained her composure, Sabrina rolled out of his arms and snatched the smoky pendant off the night stand. She wrapped the chain around her neck. The clasp clicked neatly into place on the backside of the pendant. The clasp was completely concealed. Dark rainbows flared to life, reflecting through the facets. No longer was it a piece of smoky quartz. It was a jewel.
Chapter 10
“What time is it?” She sniffed and wiped her cheeks with the sheet.
“About thirty minutes until sunset. Do you want to talk about it? The dream?” he asked as if he was comforting a small child. In a way, she felt small, or else his tone would have bothered her.
“I’ve never been anywhere in my dreams except where we went. This was different. There was so much light. It was like there was never a time without it. Everything was gold and silver, bright and shiny and reflective. I saw the most beautiful man I have ever seen just sitting on a gold throne. Two guards dragged a man in dressed like the guy Eleanor killed in our shop. He begged for mercy from this ruler, Lucifer, but ended up losing his head.” She put her hands against her eyes. “It was so horrible. I’ve never seen anything that horrible in my life!”
Brandon laid her back onto the bed, kissing her cheeks. He nestled in beside her, wrapping himself around her. “You’re here with me. Everything is fine. Go back to sleep,” he cooed and made shushing noises.
The words were soothing. Eleanor used to do the same thing when she was a child. Her eyelids were getting heavy. She began drifting off to sleep feeling safe and loved.
Before she was completely out, a light rap on the bedroom door pulled her back. Brandon gave a frustrated sigh and reached for her robe. He cracked the door. Whispering ensued, but there was nothing she could understand. He looked back over his shoulder, gave a weak smile, and left the room, opening the door only enough to slip out.
Sleep tried to take her again, but she resisted. Each time she tried to close her eyes, a sword gleaming in flashes of light flew through the air at her. For a dream, it had been very realistic. There was the same quality of understanding and clarity as her dreams about Diana’s Palace. Only instead of peaceful darkness, she found violence and light. She gave up the notion of more rest.
Digging in the dresser revealed a matching black lace bra and panty set, another pair of jeans, and a plain, black, short-sleeved cotton T-shirt. The clothes were simple, but suitable for everyday wear. Picking up an elastic ring, she slipped it over her wrist like a bracelet. Once dressed, she sat on the end of the bed and made an effort to pick the tangles from her thick black curls with the brush. She hummed a melody learned in childhood.
A quick glance in the mirror made her do a double take. Her deep brown eyes had become inky black. The black shirt and her blue-black hair made her look even paler than normal. If she did not know the woman in the reflection, she would have thought the reflection was a vampire.
Raised voices filled the hall. Her bedroom door suddenly crashed open. A tall, slender man with very square shoulders strode in wearing a dark-gray three-piece suit. His long, black, curly hair was bound at the nape of his neck. A thick, curly black beard, neatly trimmed, covered his face. A slightly hooked and crooked nose sat above a pair of thin lips. His bright-brown eyes fell on her, and he froze midstride.
“Aradia?” T
he man’s gruff voice filled with shock. He left his mouth a little agape. Fang points showed below his lips.
“You’re the second person tonight to call me that. Who’s Aradia?” Sabrina asked. She pulled her hair into a high ponytail and wrapped the elastic ring twice around the mass.
“My apology, miss. I can see now that I was mistaken. If you will excuse me, Brandon and I will wait for you in the living room.” He gave a slight bow and left.
Sabrina stared at the closed door for a few minutes. Questions whirled in her mind. Who was Aradia? Why had two men she had never meet before in her life made the same mistake? She wished Eleanor were here. Someone needed to explain this to her. She had not asked for this, any of this. Why was she being dragged into other people’s problems? Frustration rose to the surface. She could feel her forehead scowl into ridges. Anger mingled with the frustration. Dark rainbows danced on the mirror, making it seem like there were twice as many as she knew there to be.
That damn necklace. The first time in her life she had taken it off, something bad had happened. It had looked like such an ordinary piece of smoky quartz in the shower. Wait. Black smoky quartz? Then it struck her. Smoky quartz had a number of metaphysical properties. It not only focused energy and grounded the wearer in the here-and-now, but it had the power to shield negative energy. Lucifer would definitely fall in that category. Peace, balance, and harmony were enhanced by helping to subdue stubborn willfulness. Sabrina had sold a lot of it to parents needing to help small children with nightmares. Lucifer was one of those, too.
Her entire life she had worn the wretched thing not knowing she was being controlled. She thought back to the realization of an unseen shackle being broken yesterday. Her determination to make her own choices had freed her from what hold was left. After that, the clasp formed. She could take it off, remove the magical chains she had not known bound her, prevented her from being her own person. There was, however, a price. She did not know enough to defend herself against such opponents. Anger lashed out in a hot wave. The mirror in front of her looked like someone had punched it. A deep depression in the center was surrounded by a series of spider webs. Small fragments littered the top of the dresser.
A timid knock stopped whatever would have happened next. Whoever it was could not have been either of the vampires that were just in her room. The door cracked open to admit the head of Farrell, the nervous used car salesman.
“Everything all right in here?” He noticed the mirror and frowned. “Um, I brought you some stuff to pass the time. You want I should come back later?”
“No, come in, please. I was having a moment. I’m fine now,” she said, doing her best to let go of the fury.
He opened the door wide with his foot. His arms were laden with boxes and bags. It looked like he had been all over town gathering things on her behalf. Clothing and jewelry store logos decorated some of the packaging. Others were more generic. A box of magazines was the last thing he put down. Looking at the ones on top showed he had emptied a newsstand to get all the latest editions.
“What is all this?” She was bewildered.
“The boss said to get you some stuff to help entertain you. He said think modern and female. Does this not work for you? I can go get something different?” He shoved both hands into his polyester green pockets. A nervous habit, she was sure. His eyes held a thinly veiled fear that he had not pleased her and might be punished.
In an effort to put the frightened man at ease, she plastered on her best smile. “Thank you. Farrell, isn’t it? This is excessively generous. I’m sure to find everything I need in here.”
The relief he felt was visible. His shoulder relaxed, and he stopped holding his breath. A goofy grin took the place of the thin lips pressed so tightly they were as white as the rest of him.
“Thanks! I’m glad you like it,” Farrell said cheerfully. He hitched his thumb toward the door. “You ready to go meet Hadrian? You must be some kind of special for Hadrian to show up.”
“I will take that as a compliment, Farrell. I didn’t know who that was. He came in here, apologized for busting in, and went to wait in the living room. Thank you for warning me,” she said.
“An audience and an apology! Maybe I should be more afraid of you!” The little man looked positively astounded at her confession.
She laughed hard and loud. “Oh, Farrell. I don’t think so. I’m just me, but I think you’re safe.”
“Uh-huh, okay,” he agreed reluctantly. “Let’s go. Brandon doesn’t like to be kept waiting, and Hadrian hates it more.”
In the living room, Scarlett was bustling about with trays and china mugs. On her way back to the kitchen, she stopped in front of Sabrina and stared. It took a few seconds for Sabrina to remember.
“Oh! I’ll have some juice and toast, please. Thank…” Scarlett took off for the kitchen before Sabrina could finish her sentence.
“Don’t worry. She’s always like that,” Farrell added.
“Does she hate it here?”
“I don’t know if ‘hate’ is the right word. Let’s just say, it’s not her first choice.” He did not bother to elaborate further.
“Sabrina, honey, we’re waiting,” Brandon called. He tone was conciliatory. Whether it was simply affectionate or if he was attempting to overcome some distrust on her part, she decided to proceed with caution.
Farrell made for the front door as soon as it was within sight. Sabrina was left standing alone. Hadrian was seated in Brandon’s overstuffed chair from last night. Brandon was in its mate at the opposite end of the coffee table. The only places left put her between the two, regardless of her choice.
Scarlett passed by her and sat her tray in the middle of the long coffee table. It certainly seemed to be the most logical place, and Sabrina accepted it as her seat. She began nibbling on toast, watching the two men.
Brandon had changed into jeans and an aqua, long-sleeved button-down. He was casual enough, in comparison to Hadrian, but it made Sabrina feel underdressed. No one spoke. Finally Sabrina took it upon herself to start.
“Well, if you’re not going to say something, I will. Hello, Hadrian. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Sabrina Rivers.” She did her best to sound cordial and put out a hand after dusting off the toast crumbs.
In the better lighting of the living room, she could see the man was in his early sixties. Of course, there was no way for her to know how old he really was. This face only represented his human years. He took her extended hand slowly, held it for a moment more than was polite, and allowed her to slip it away from him. He sat staring at her.
“Aunt Eleanor seems to know you. She asked for you by name when she was here. How long have to two known each other?” Sabrina’s party manners were a little rusty, but she made the effort to engage in small talk with this stranger.
“Is Eleanor your mother’s sister or your father’s?”
“My, you do get right to the point. My mother’s.” Sabrina felt at a disadvantage. She sat back with her juice and crossed her legs, hoping to appear casually sociable.
“Do you know her name?”
“No. Eleanor doesn’t like to talk about her. I don’t know my father’s name, either. I know that seems strange, but she only ever made reference to her as ‘my sister’ or ‘your mother’. He was never referred to at all, if she could help it. I don’t know what she looked like. She died right after I was born,” Sabrina said, looking down at her hands. This turn in the conversation brought her mood down.
“Did Eleanor raise you?” Hadrian’s voice remained calm and even. He sipped his mug of blood. Brandon took it in turns, watching first Hadrian and then Sabrina. It made her edgy.
“Yes. I’ve lived in the Plott Balsam Mountains of North Carolina my whole life. We have a metaphysical supply shop in Sylva,” she replied.
“Brandon tells me you’ve never taken your necklace off until last night. Can you tell me about it? The necklace, I mean.”
She recounted to him the story
of how its chain grew as she did, how the man in the store tried to pull it off to no avail, and how it had come off last night just because she wished it would, leaving out the part where they had had sex. “It was so strange. I’ve wished thousands of times over the years for it to come off, and it never did. Last night, I thought about it and it dropped to the floor. I can’t explain it,” she admitted. She did not want to give away too much information. He was a stranger, after all. “Hadrian, who is Aradia?”
“She was the daughter of Diana, Queen of the Night, and Eleanor’s half-sister.” His tone remained calm and even. It had a just-the-facts-ma’am quality about it.
“Twice tonight, someone called me her and then corrected themselves,” she stated but made it sound more like a question. She wanted more answers. Her entire life had been cocooned in secrecy, manipulation, and, she suspected, lies.
“You look a lot like her. Your hair is the same color, only curly. Your eyes are different, but the rest of your face is the same. Same height. Same build. I thought, for a moment, you were Aradia,” Hadrian admitted.
“How do you know her?” Sabrina asked.
“I loved her. I gave up my human life and an empire to be with her. Being made a vampire was the closest a human could get to immortality. We had several happy centuries together before she was caught and punished. Now she wanders the night sky over Tuscany. I can hear her whispering in the trees, but I will never touch her again,” Hadrian offered in explanation. He suddenly seemed much older, sadder.
“You never told me that,” Brandon chimed in, sounding amazed. “And here I was thinking you hated the company of others. You’ve been grieving all this time?”
“Yes.” Hadrian made it sound final. It was time to drop the subject and move on to something else.