by M. L. Desir
“Alexander Talbot. I was Enlightened by Faron, the Fair One.”
The Fair One? In the fashion of gods and kings, they sometimes gave themselves titles named after trivial things like flowers and stars. Some were more creative and chose names that told something about their appearance or temperament. In this case, Faron was most likely either very beautiful or very pale, and didn’t have enough creativity to come up with a unique name. Alexander’s eyes were a pale, beautiful violet, and Gabriel wondered whether he had given himself a name like Hyacinth.
“I think I can muster up some mercy if Jules apologizes,” he said.
Jules scowled. “Why should I? I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“You tried insulting me with your comments to my mortal servant, and your tardiness reflects how you feel about my existence. So an apology is in order.”
“It’s not fair. I shouldn’t have to. You’re not the Prince yet. You have no reason to be. You’ve only Enlightened one so far, while many of us have done ten times that!”
Gabriel had an aching desire to show Jules his place by brute force. He figured that a sound beating would shut him up. Before he could raise his hand to strike him, Jules rose into the air. The startled look on his face told Gabriel that Jules’ ascension was involuntary.
He continued to be lifted, by an unseen force, until he lingered just a few inches from the mirrored ceiling, and then he was slammed again and again into the adjoining walls like an unwanted toy. Amethyst and jasper gems chipped off with remarkable force, zipping through the air like bullets through the room. Raising his chin, Gabriel stared with more pleasure than surprise as an invisible power continued to fling Jules about for what felt like an hour, but somehow it didn’t seem long enough. The tossing stopped in midair, and Jules was slowly lowered to the ground before Gabriel’s feet.
“Rise, Jules.” The voice sounded beautiful and terrible as thunder and lightning.
Gabriel turned to see Lilith standing a few feet behind him, dressed in a similar style to Christopher and Timothy, and practically nude except for a beaded skirt with wide slits up the sides of her long, shapely legs. The apples of her full breasts were adorned with gems. With each step, her dark brown skin sparkled with a patina of gold dust, and diamonds shimmered in her earlobes. Her long black hair hung loose past her thighs, rippling like a river. As she sauntered past Gabriel, looking like Aphrodite, a goddess of sensuality, a ruby set in her navel and another centered in the middle of her forehead, glimmering in the light. She rolled her hips and walked on the balls of her bare feet toward Jules, who scuttled backward like a crab away from her, his black-and-white frock coat torn and stained with blood. He moaned as he lurched to his feet, and blood poured from his mouth and neck. He begged her not to hurt him.
Lilith placed her hands coquettishly on her knees and leaned forward. “Julessss, apologize now,” she said in a sickly sweet voice, as if reprimanding a child, “or it shall be more than a few minor cuts and wounded pride that you shall be dealing with.”
“Please, my Lady. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes, shaking, arms wrapped around himself as if he tried to warm up from a coldness that Gabriel couldn’t feel, but he could definitely sense it coming from Lilith’s naked flesh.
He imagined that it would feel smooth and as cool as a snake’s. He had a sudden desire to touch her, to feed her with his own warmth. He clenched his fist until the nails dug into his palms. The bizarre desire passed.
Lilith glanced at Gabriel from the corner of her black eyes, smiling, before returning her attention back to Jules. “Ahhh, then show me how sorry you truly are. Speak those words to Gabriel. Now.”
Jules swallowed so hard, for all the dead silent room to hear. Jules turned to face him, still trembling. Pure hatred flickered in his light brown eyes. “Forgive me, my elect Prince. Forgive me for my impudence.”
“You are forgiven,” Gabriel said without much enthusiasm.
Lilith smiled. “Once an apology has been made and has been forgiven, it’s customary, Gabriel, that you heal the offender of his wounds by allowing him to drink of you.” With her long glossy nails, she slashed a fine line against the column of her own throat. “But in this case, because it was I who caused harm, it’s my blood that will be spilt in absolution.” She took Jules into her arms, and he immediately pressed his lips to her throat. Sucking and drinking, Jules all the while glared at Gabriel.
Almost immediately, his wounds healed and faded. Gabriel regretted seeing them disappear.
CHAPTER 15
Promising
THE CHOSEN MOVED CLOSER, their movements synchronized. They floated toward Gabriel, Lilith, and Mikel in a beautiful and contrived manner, similar to their dancing earlier. And yet, the unity in those movements disturbed him, as if they all shared one mind.
Lilith draped her long hair over one shoulder. She clapped once, and within the span of a breath, Christopher appeared at her side. She whispered into his ear, and he came back quickly, holding Mikel by the hand. She walked over to Gabriel and wrapped a long, slender arm around his waist. “This is Gabriel, as you’ve all learned. It’s true that he has only Enlightened one,” she continued as she snaked her other arm around Mikel’s neck, “this beautiful musician, but it’s not quantity that counts but quality. Gabriel is very promising.”
A few murmurs rippled across the room in response to what she said, but Gabriel wasn’t sure if it was in agreement or otherwise. He simply didn’t care. He slipped out of her embrace, and Mikel did the same.
Lilith stretched her arms out to her audience. “Let the music play! Drink! Dance! Enjoy yourselves this night.”
Once the music started again, dancing and chatting went on as before. For the most part, the crowd from earlier had dispersed except for Alexander, who stared at him with his strange violet eyes. If he were a lion or a wolf, he would’ve taken this staring as a threat and mauled him.
“I have something for you, my fair prince,” Lilith whispered. “Tomorrow evening, I shall visit you and then you shall see.”
Gabriel thought to ask her what in God’s name she intended on bringing, but he knew he wouldn’t get a direct answer, and Alexander’s stare unnerved him. Gabriel narrowed his eyes at him, and Alexander simply smiled.
The white-haired vampire closed the space between them, bowing to Lilith, his eyes still on Gabriel. “My Lady, may I speak?”
Lilith gave him a nod.
“Despite Jules’ lack of respect, he has made a valid point. Gabriel seems very old, and on the surface, he looks perfect as our leader, but it’s true that he has only Enlightened one.”
“We’ve shared some dialogue about that already.” Lilith’s black eyes came round to looking at Gabriel. “And the concerns we discussed are going to change.” She smiled at him, and he wanted to slap her.
Jules stood against the wall, arms wrapped around himself. His mouth was drawn back tight against his teeth. Anger? Well it’s a waste of energy to be angry, Gabriel thought.
He walked past him, and Jules caught him by the forearm. He stood about the same height and had no trouble whispering directly in Gabriel’s ear: “This isn’t over. If I am to bend my knee to you, you’ll have to prove yourself—”
Gabriel smiled. “Prove myself? Why should I care about proving myself to you or anyone?” He gave a dry laugh, “Release me.”
Jules’ hold on Gabriel loosened. His mouth fell open, but no words came out. Jules’ fingers worked hard trying to hold onto him, but in a matter of seconds, Gabriel’s will prevailed, and Jules’ hand slipped off and rested like a dead weight at his side.
“Now leave my presence,” Gabriel ordered in a slow, deliberate voice.
Jules turned on his heels and walked through the room and out the exit, looking like a mechanical wind-up toy.
“Amazing,” Alexander sighed over Gabriel’s shoulder. “
What you just did is amazing.”
“Telling someone to go away isn’t what I would call amazing. It’s quite simple, really.”
Alexander shook his head. “No. Jules isn’t one to back down from a confrontation. He’s impulsive and arrogant. There’s no way he would’ve left unless you made him do it.”
Gabriel stared at him and shrugged. “And you can’t do that?”
“To a human, yes. But to another Chosen? Never. That’s unheard of, Prince Elect. Lilith didn’t exaggerate when she said you were promising. This is . . . wonderful.” Alexander’s violet eyes brightened with tears.
Tears. Gabriel cringed. Oh God, he was getting melodramatic on him.
Before Gabriel could step away, Alexander took his hand and kissed it. “There are many who want to take your place as Prince Elect, but I won’t stand in your way. Not now, with what I’ve seen. Not now.” Alexander stepped out in the middle of the ballroom, his hands raised over his head. In a loud voice, he called for everyone to stop and pay attention. Gabriel could feel another scene about to unfold and dreaded it.
Without stopping to hear what Alexander would say, he told Mikel to follow him, which the latter did without question. Glancing at the dining room table, Gabriel noticed that Colin and Nathaniel had already relocated to one of the chaise lounges along the wall, near the exit door. Logically, they had not wanted to get hit by any flying objects as Jules got thrashed.
“It’s time to leave,” Gabriel said to Nathaniel.
He cocked his head to the side, smiling. “I’m proud of you, but do you really think it’s a good idea to leave once things have gotten so exciting?”
“Yes.”
Colin’s head rested on Nathaniel’s shoulder, eyes closed. He looked comfortable, or at least safe.
“For now, forget what you saw, Colin. I shall explain in more detail if you need me to once we get home,” Gabriel said, wanting to erase the boy’s fear.
Colin simply nodded without opening his eyes.
Hiding unshed tears? He knew that he would have done so.
Nathaniel stood up and followed, holding onto Colin. “Don’t worry about him, Gabriel,” he said. “I lulled him to sleep with my voice. He shouldn’t remember a thing . . . unless you want him to.”
“Splendid. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Mikel stood by the door, waiting, his dark blue eyes filled with secrets.
Just as Gabriel ascended the stairs to escape, he overheard Alexander speaking about him and his little song and dance with Jules. The music had stopped for the second time this night, so nothing could drown out or distract from Alexander’s ranting and raving.
“Our Lady does not exaggerate. The Prince Elect is a man of great power. I witnessed him do something that none of us can do. He can force his will upon others with his voice alone. ”
Gabriel looked over his shoulder, past the faces of Nathaniel, Mikel, and Colin and into the ballroom below. The Chosen had formed a semi-circle around Alexander and Lilith, murmuring to each other.
“So, we’re all unanimous as to Gabriel being the Prince,” Lilith stated. “Show respect.”
They all ceased whispering and murmuring. Alexander stepped back into the semi-circle, and as one, they turned to look at Gabriel and stooped to one knee in eerily perfect formation. In their center loomed Lilith. Gabriel gazed at seventy upturned faces shimmering under the chandelier’s light, shimmering with anticipation. Seventy still? With Jules missing, the number seemed off.
A tremor crept over the length of his body making the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He began to ascend the last couple steps, but fell short when he felt Nathaniel’s hand on his shoulder.
Nathaniel’s touch—like his pale blue eyes—bit into his skin, cold and numbing.
He looked at him over his shoulder.
“Whether you admit it, Gabriel. This is what you want. What you’ve always wanted.” Nathaniel grinned at him. “Go on. Join your subjects.”
* * *
Gabriel returned downstairs, moving in a daze among the pale-faced Chosen, his kind. They passed him from one to another around the circle, touching him with their elegant hands, caressing his face, lacing their fingers through the length of his wavy hair. Someone kneaded his back while another rubbed his shoulders.
He came face to face with Lilith who seemed out of place with her dark skin testifying of sunshine from an African sky, but her large black eyes were slanted and finely lashed like an Oriental’s. Her slender, narrow nose resembled a Botticelli angel’s. Her full mouth puckered into a smile, yet her face remained a mystery.
No. She was a mystery.
“You look mystified, my fair prince. Do I displease you, confuse you?” she asked, echoing his thoughts.
Gabriel ignored her. Above, the chandelier’s lights suddenly snuffed out, leaving everyone in darkness, but their eyes, like cats’ or wolves’, saw easily. No one moved.
“What’s going on?” Gabriel asked the darkness.
The crystals on the chandelier tinkled and chimed like bells. He heard a deep, silvery voice in the tintinnabulation.
“This Gabriel looks promising, but will he fight for you? Protect you? Bring order to our world? Hmmm. I wonder . . .”
Men garbed in black flew out of the mirrored ceiling, dressed like fencers with masked faces and capes that flowed like black water behind them. Once they landed with grace to the floor, they drew swords from their sides. They began impaling the Chosen who just stood around him like statues. Why aren’t they fighting? One standing next to him—the female with ginger-colored hair—reached out her hands to him, her mouth moving like a fish gasping for air. Her eyes sparked wild with fear. His eyes worked over her body, lingering on her throat, and he saw why she couldn’t speak, couldn’t make a sound. Why isn’t she healing?
Her windpipe had been torn out.
He reached out to help her, but when he felt sharp pain shooting into his back and driving through his chest, helping her, helping anybody became an afterthought. He looked down at his chest and saw that he had been impaled from behind. As he looked at the blade, the pain doubled. He couldn’t turn around, didn’t want to see what he already knew. From behind, someone drove the blade in deeper.
Blood blossomed out of his chest, and Gabriel felt himself falling, falling, as he screamed.
So, this is what it’s like to die?
For an instant, everything turned black. He must’ve closed his eyes. And when he opened them, Annabelle, the prostitute towered over him, dark circles under her blue dead eyes, an evil smile on her sallow face. Through the giant opening in her chest, he could see a blue sky and a burning sun. Crimson butterflies flew out of the cavity, and as they fluttered by his face, they transformed into real butterflies, the colors of a shattered rainbow. In the distance, he could see the silhouette of a girl playing with the winged insects. Just as he started to wake up, the unfamiliar girl began to take shape . . .
CHAPTER 16
The Eyes of God
“I THINK HE’S REGAINED consciousness,” Alexander said. His white hair fell in his face as he leaned over, looking at Gabriel. His violet eyes filled with genuine concern and then brightened with delight as Gabriel stared back at him.
Gabriel’s hand went immediately to his chest where the assassin had stabbed him. He looked at his fingers. No blood. He wasn’t bleeding. What the hell happened?
“But can he make illusions?” the silvery voice asked. “Can he twist time and space? Mold reality, paint it with his own desires? Can he see the world through the eyes of a god?”
Gabriel lurched to his feet, not amused, and the circle of spectators widened for him, but didn’t disperse immediately. They were listening to the voice, too. The looks on most of their faces remained blank, but some of them looked afraid.
“Hmph. I didn’t think he could.
” The voice came from behind him. Gabriel spun around to see the one who had disgraced him. The unremarkably young and slender upstart snapped his fingers and the gaslight torches flamed on, the light revealing an auburn cast to his short brown hair. Lavishly dressed in a vermillion robe that would have suited a medieval priest, he swaggered toward Gabriel, the folds of the robe opening to reveal knee-high, leather boots.
“No, I cannot,” Gabriel addressed him. “I don’t see the point of such fancy theatrics.”
He stood in his place waiting for his anger to quell. “Who put you up to this?” he asked.
The young man suddenly vanished, but his silvery laughter could be heard all around.
Illusions. Where had the little prick learned how to weave them? Lilith. Of course, Lilith. Gabriel glanced at her and caught her staring back at him. She pressed her index finger to her red, full lips. He knew what she wanted—for him to keep silent about her powers. But why?
She lowered her hand slowly, clenching it into a fist. Her black eyes shifted to where the young man had stood with such intensity that they flashed like burning coals. She gave Gabriel another warning glance. She spun around on the balls of her naked feet and rushed out of the room, her black hair flowing behind her.
For now, Gabriel chose to go along with her game because asking questions would just complicate things, and Lilith would probably tell him what he needed to know in her own time. But at least he would know sooner or later. For now, he would do as she expected from him.
For now.
The strange youth rematerialized directly in front of Gabriel. A beautiful woman with milky white skin and voluptuous brown hair that flowed all the way down her back held his hand. Her gown, the color and texture of a silky apricot hugged her body, accentuating all the right curves. When she caught him staring at her with her polished, soft gray eyes, Gabriel looked away.
“I’m Seth,” said the young man, extending a manicured hand. His eyes each had a different color: the right one shined green and the left amber.