I knew it was real, but just hearing of such events in the first person gave me pause. More and more, our lives were becoming unnatural, and I felt detached from what I had known as reality only a year earlier, strange as that concept had been. “The queen, Ada, targeted me with her royal ire due to a simple misunderstanding.”
I took measure of his physical presence, added what I knew from legend, and asked in my blandest tone, “Does this misunderstanding have a name perchance?”
He rewarded me with a leering smile that crinkled his eyes. “She does. My tastes ran to young women of means during that era. I am ashamed to admit that I was a bit of a gold digger. Regardless, the royal presence, Ada, had a younger sister, a girl of, oh, let’s declare it modest beauty, but she had—”
“A large estate?” I interjected helpfully.
His grin expanded, catlike. “Quite. The lands were extensive, and I do love rolling hills. Naturally, I deflowered her after fighting several oafs who saw the same qualities I had recognized, but after taking her to bed, I was seen stumbling from her private chambers quite naked, and still gloriously drunk. I hared off, weaponless, and stole a horse, which provided me swift but incredibly uncomfortable passage to safety, or so I thought.” He winced at the memory of the horse ride. That is one tough soldier, I thought reflexively, covering my own groin with a free hand. “I alternated between hiding and outrunning the hunting party until they lost interest, but I’ve never stopped appreciating the simplicity of an egg.”
“And here I thought you only had eyes for Patroclus. You’re quite the libertine, you know,” I said, pointing at him with my chopsticks. He shook his head in agreement and shrugged as if his sexual proclivities were common knowledge, then his eyes clouded with a hint of heat as he became serious again.
Around a mouthful of egg, Achilles said, “It will be soon, very soon, that Elizabeth will move against you. And the noxious truth of her plans will reveal weaknesses you have not considered.”
“An oblique maneuver? Something at our periphery?” I asked.
“Correct. Remember, Ring, that underneath it all, Elizabeth, like all tin pot dictators, well, she’s a coward. She would do anything to assume power and then begin to use the lash for sheer sport, but engaging in a standup battle with you and yours, and if I may say so, me in particular? Not her style.” He shook his head at what he saw as Elizabeth’s cowardice. “And if I’m not mistaken, here comes the bad news. It’s started,” he said as he looked over my shoulder at the door. I turned to see a police officer making his way to our table with the distinct gait of a man delivering something unsavory.
“Ring? I’m Detective Francis.” He was a middle-aged fireplug of a guy, bulging with muscles, and his brown eyes were a bit sad and tired. “We just informed your friend Glen that his brother was found murdered, and he asked that you come over to close up his place for him. He left immediately to begin packing for his flight.”
“Gabriel? Murdered?” I asked, shocked, but then cooling instantly as I felt ghostly, manicured fingers began to tighten around my neck. “When?”
“Yesterday. He was found in a hotel room in Portsmouth, England. He was—well, I’ll tell you because Glen said you were like family, but he’d been tortured.”
“Jesus. Tortured?” I felt my gut curdle. “How? Do I even want to know?”
Detective Francis wrung his hands for a second, and I knew it was going to be bad. “He was crucified. In the hotel room. And he had some sort of hard fruit jammed in his mouth far enough that it tore his jaw open. He was wearing a, well, a crown of some sort. Whole fucking thing is sick if you ask me.”
“Of thorns?” Achilles asked for a clarification of the crown, his face dark with anger.
“No, not thorns. It was made out of twigs from a fruit tree, and it had all of these little blossoms on it,” the investigator said. “Like what a girl would wear on her wedding day.” His voice quivered with disgust at the facts he was delivering. After wishing us condolences and giving us his card, the veteran officer retreated to the door and left.
I looked at Achilles, who said quietly, “Not crucified. Espaliered.” The contemptuous, yet playful method of Gabriel’s murder revealed beyond doubt two things: Elizabeth was watching, and she had help virtually anywhere in the world. The ghostly fingers tightened anew.
50
New Orleans
“You must lie still or the baby will not survive. Do you understand this?” Joseph glared into the dark eyes of the woman, who lay sweating and straining on the creaky bed. She agreed, biting her lip hard, and gave a single shake of her head, then blew air in torrents through the gap in her teeth. Joseph kept her legs apart, and his voice cracked with authority as he cleared the curious husband and her other children from the room.
“Out. Now.” Cowed by his position and theirs, they shuffled from the stinking bedroom with only the barest of backwards glances. Her hands tore at the sheets as another contraction rippled across her distended abdomen, leaving her gasping for air as she sucked short, violent breaths into her lungs, fighting to oxygenate her blood during what was becoming a very difficult birth.
“The other children, they were all so easy,” she coughed, dashing out words in between the tormented motion of her ribcage, which rose and fell like a spastic bellows under her worn cotton shift.
Joseph put a hand on her forehead and shushed her. “Save your breath. The baby is close now. You must not push until I say so, do you understand?” When she moved her chin frantically, he knew that her pain was reaching the zenith. He pushed the needle into her arm without warning, and the drug immediately brought lassitude to her face as her features sagged and her arms ceased flailing. Muttering to himself, Joseph began to spread a measure of fine white muslin at the juncture of her legs. The head was clear of her body, and the remainder of the child soon slid onto the cloth, mewling nearly silently. A sleepy baby. The drugs have worked just as she said. He wrapped the babe and carefully laid it alongside the mother, who was still free of any semblance of lucidity. Head lolling, she reached instinctively for her child, but in the wrong direction. With even greater care, Joseph spread a second length of muslin, allowing an extra moment of preparation as he shook salt liberally over the snowy expanse of cloth. The mother gasped in agony, a considerable feat considering that she had been given a near-fatal dose of medication, and Joseph knew that his moment was at hand. Another massive rippling wave raced across her loosened abdomen, and in seconds, the twin, who would never be seen and never draw a breath, came out, where Joseph took the still form in his shaking hands, and began to wrap his prize in the swaddling cloth crusted with salt, around and around. One for you, and one for mother’s guest. When he was done, he placed the shape in his bag, but gently. It wouldn’t do to bruise the meat.
51
From Risa’s Files
Hrad Cachtice, Kingdom of Hungary, A.D. 1601
Daughter,
Before this missive progresses any further, let me first render unto you my deepest apologies for having neglected our communications. I have been overwhelmed by recent events, but that is no reason for such abandonment on my part. Again, please find it in your heart to forgive me.
Now, on to more joyous news. After several centuries cultivating warfare and the odd collapse of empire, I have recently been granted a gift beyond compare. In this age of priggish wealth and false asceticism, I have discovered a young woman who has appetites that thrill me to my core. She is a lovely creature, hailing from a family of excellent position, and well landed, too. I find her to be quite pretty, in a petite, sly manner, and she has a taste for men that can only be surpassed by her taste for girls. O, that I had met her at birth! I would have cultivated her wondrous abandon from childhood had I the chance! Her familial money and power give her dominion over more than a dozen towns, with itinerant villagers swelling the populace of this rather pleasant area. To sum up, the pen is quite full of fatted sows for her to choose from, and she has begun to ex
periment with pleasures of the flesh that make even me gasp at her creativity. An artist at work is a lovely thing to behold!
As I’m sure you can imagine, I was here to help fulfill such wishes for ever more exotic fare. Currently, the larders are well stocked with young women of breeding as well as a few men, just as a means of assuring variety. We wouldn’t want to be accused of banality! In the past decade, her consumption of bed partners exceeded the local production as she began to crave the more sadistic side of carnal pleasure. I saw an opportunity to provide a service to the people of this kingdom, while serving a young princess of whom I have grown quite fond. In a masterstroke, I suggested to her that she sponsor a Gynaecaeumon the castle grounds. She found the idea of a charm school for the finest, loveliest young women from miles around to be well suited to her particular needs. A steady stream of nubile maidens have poured into Hrad Cachtice with each season, and the satisfaction it gives me to see them become so broken and defiled—- it warms me within like a fine hot wine. My young charge has appetites that are growing beyond my control, and I truly respect her for thinking only of her own hideous wants. She is a beautiful, poisonous creature, and I will be saddened when she is inevitably blamed for such sweet depravity. I think I shall take her name in honor of this place, where I have seen such a capacity for sin that I have blushed often.
Such is youth. It is not meant to last. Nor, I am afraid, is the Bathory family. Until I write again, do try to be more like her, won’t you?
Your Loving Mother,
Elizabeth
52
New Orleans
“You must be Doctor Mpemba. It’s my pleasure to meet you.” David stuck out his hand in greeting, and Enoch took it and pumped it once, inwardly pleased at the use of his proper title.
“I am.” Enoch looked around the workspace with cool disdain. He was a scholar, not a shop boy, but his residual fear of Elizabeth made him at least obedient enough to exude some manners. The area was free of dirt, flawlessly organized, and well lighted. On a raised table in the center of the room, small materials boxes sat in a ruler-straight line. Labels on each indicated a variety of gems, metals, and stones. There were even several polished lengths of woods that looked, even to Enoch’s untrained eye, like they were prized from rare trees. Their singular grains ran the gamut from buttery to crackled to deeply burnished colors he had not imagined possible.
One small ring of wood fairly pulsed like a frozen circlet of ox blood, holding Enoch’s gaze for a long, rude moment until he tore his eyes from it and asked in a polite tone that surprised him, “How may I be of help to you, Davis? These things, they are not what I expected. They are quite captivating.”
Davis looked at the surroundings with pride. He unrolled a sheet of parchment that crackled with protest, and Enoch saw something that made his bowels turn to water. Before he could recoil, Davis said with reverence, “I would like to create this,” and he pointed lightly at the sketch, “out of that.” In his other hand, he held the ring of dark, reddened wood. “Of course, as a jeweler, there are a few suggestions that Elizabeth made which will challenge every ounce of my artistry, but with someone of your intellect, I feel like this could be a masterwork, an artifact in the flesh, and of our time, so to speak. Something to be remembered, even revered, and kept close to that which we hold dear.”
Enoch suppressed a full-bodied moment of panic and forced himself to remain calm. “What, ah, suggestions did Elizabeth make regarding that thing on the paper?”
“Oh, the Negwenya?” Davis asked brightly and in complete disregard for the potential lethality that sat flattened under his hand.
Does he not see it? Enoch mused, but without betraying his inner turmoil. “Yes, the serpent.” He felt soiled even looking at the thing, refusing to speak its name.
“We are to render it in a complex matrix of wood and filigreed silver, and gems are to be used, with no limitations. There is only one requirement for the stones, however.”
Enoch did shudder then, as he asked, “Which is?”
“They must all be pointing inward. Odd, one would think that the beauty should be on the outside, but she was most specific. Large gemstones, mine-cut, rough, and inward. Other than that, we have complete license to craft as we see fit. Quite generous of her, don’t you think?” He smiled with the pleasure of a man given a task at which he can excel. Enoch knew that face. It was one he had lorded over submissive sexual partners for a decade, and, as he sat at the table, he wondered why it disturbed him so much.
53
Florida
Kevin met me at home, dressed in his official garb. His expression was grim, and under that, I sensed cold, barely controlled anger. Before I could even greet him, he said, “It’s started.” His eyes narrowed and cut away with a flicker. I knew he wavered between blaming all of us for Gabriel’s death, and fearing that he was witnessing something evil and inevitable from a vantage point that was a bit too hot for safety.
“You’re right on both accounts, you know. Gabriel’s dead because of us, in a way, and there was absolutely nothing, anything, that could have prevented it. The impotence that you’re feeling right now? I feel it every single time some Undying asshole makes an example or a meal or a joke of a human life simply because they can. If you wondered at all as to the capriciousness of Elizabeth, hell, of immortals in general when they’re bloodletting remember this moment. Sear it into your recollection of what is happening because you’ve been trained to forgive, Kevin. You’ve been trained to love unconditionally, and that muscle memory will cost your life, too, if you let it overpower the most basic reactions you should be having to these animals. Stop thinking of them in human terms. I don’t. Risa and Wally don’t. Neither should you, not anymore. Not since this.” I ground out the last words, thinking again of Gabriel.
* * *
He leaned against the wall, the angular planes of his face still flushed with emotion but his pose relaxed slightly. He asked softly, “Where does that leave Delphine?”
His question brought me up short, and my retort died on my tongue. I reconsidered as he sat mutely awaiting me to regain my temper. “She’s different, and saying that makes me a liar, doesn’t it?”
He held my shoulder and looked at me intently. I was being counseled, and I realized that speaking like this was his life’s calling. Kevin was in his element advising people to think, not lash out, and I owed him my calm.
With effort, I settled myself as he said, “Ring, absolutes, especially applying them to people? It is the road to moral bankruptcy. I respect your anger and the loathing that you feel, I sincerely do. But you are too good a soul to become a one-dimensional murderer. I am begging you, as a man of God, please do not descend into depravity. I ask you to reconsider your role among the immortals you will eventually join, and we know that is happening. Let me be a fixed point for you to follow during your next foray. I offer you my friendship and my spiritual assistance. I cannot raise a hand on your behalf, but I can extend my hand to you should you ever need it.” His eyes never left mine, and I knew that his offer was a sincere, albeit thin rope for me to grasp as I prepared to swing into a void.
“Thank you. I think I’ll need it.” I rolled my shoulders as the weight of an oncoming storm began to drift downward onto them. “We all will.” Air rushed through my teeth as I finally regained my composure. “I know of many immortals who are worthy of my respect, not just my supposed mercy.”
“Supposed?” Kevin asked, confused.
“I think my self-worth is a bit inflated. There are Undying who would swat me like a fly, and here I am swearing to cleanse the earth of their likes. As if I could.” I shook my head ruefully, amazed at how righteous anger can overinflate my self-perceived skill as a brawler.
Kevin let his head fall back and stared upward, searching for something. “Delphine is well worth saving, and she deserves to be held in high regard, no matter what her history might be. She is your friend, Ring, and while it’s true I don’t app
rove of her profession or her propensity for murder, I am not the one to judge her. None of us are. We are,” and he looked upward again, then back to me, “all flawed, and the entire notion that I am qualified to counsel you as to who cannot be saved is anathema to my training, and offensive to my heart. Do what you must, Ring. Your instincts are much better than mine in this regard; I only ask that you tread lightly with your rage. These decisions you are making? They are permanent.”
54
The Archangel Karen
She glistened with a clean, healthy sweat, coming to rest on the floor with the ease of muscle memory rediscovered. I feel like a teenager again. The mirrored wall embellished the internal glow or her well-being, and no longer did she see a woman broken. No, the face looking at her with clear, steady eyes was pretty, free of blemishes, and alight with the after effects of three hard hours practicing the things she thought were lost. Karen took liberty with her own body, running a hand sensuously up the length of a leg that was tight, muscular, and shapely. Where these new details had come from with such haste was beyond her. She only knew an innate pleasure as the endorphins crashed through her with abandon, granting a high that was pure, natural, and paid for in sweat.
He will come to me tonight; I must shower and be ready for him. Again. She nearly trilled with delight, thinking of Joseph’s long, insistent fingers, his mouth, even the brush of his hair against her thighs as he consumed and rewarded her in ways that prick Roland had never imagined. Joseph had taken her, softly but insistently, and the first time she had merely lain there, submissive and fearful that resistance was the catalyst for her exile from this home. It wouldn’t have been the first time she’d traded a fuck for a roof, but she knew those days were past her. On the second visit, she caught herself welcoming him, welcoming his thumb, darting into her quickly, then his mouth on her collarbone, and finally, when he slid inside her, she let her arms fall back as her resistance fled the scene, and he inhabited every place her body could offer him. Willingly, too, and then, by the third night, she mounted him, biting his lip and covering him with her hair, which seemed to have gotten impossibly long and silky in two days. He grasped at her, and she rolled down his body like a starving wave, only ceasing when her breath came in gasps too quick to fill her empty lungs, and spots began to color her world even as her next orgasm pushed her hips into his face like a challenge. He did not shy from this, and it was only hours later that Joseph left her, sated and drowsy, watching as her skin grew soft, her eyes clearer, and her hands, once scarred by life, became new again. That was the key to this place. She was being reborn, made into what she could have been, but for Roland, and it fit her like an approving glance.
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