by M. L. Desir
He had heard stories about people being manacled to the floor, and their fellow men paying money to see them tortured and raped. He hated to recall that it wasn’t just a story, but rather a dark part of history, and that no matter how many it times it repeated itself—man’s cruelty to man—in another shape or form, it always looked ugly and terrible. But he had no pity for Seth. Seth killed and tortured, because he enjoyed, while others who had shared his tragic past did not. It could be said that Seth, who relished in cruelty had been born to such an existence and nothing, nothing could change him.
“Do you love Seth? This poisoned youth?” Gabriel asked. “Or is it misguided pity that binds you to him?”
Bela took his hand and placed his forefinger in her pink, full mouth. A cry of surprise slipped from him when she bit into his finger. He flinched, watching her draw blood from his finger, mesmerized.
She slipped his finger out of her mouth and smiled with lips stained red by his blood. “Would you like to drink of me?” Without waiting for him to reply, she undid the first several buttons of the high collar, exposing of her throat and a bit of her cleavage.
Gabriel took her by the shoulders and bit into her neck. He drank her blood in long, deep swallows. He withdrew, coming to an abrupt stop. This time, he hadn’t experienced the same amount of pleasure as the first time. He held her away from him at arm’s length, searching her face for an answer.
“The fools at Bedlam.” Her face twisted with hatred. “They thought that Seth was mad. He—a genius! In time, he showed them who was the better man. Clouded their minds, laced their very minds with doubt and confusion and then escaped. Escaped to the dirty streets of Whitechapel and came to life when a man who wasn’t a man gave him a kiss that was more than a kiss.” Her voice deepened several octaves, and then one of her gray eyes lightened into green, and the other bled with shades of gold and amber.
In one fluid motion, she spun away from him and in mid-turn, Seth stood before him, head thrown back in mad laughter. He removed the white cravat, saturated with blood, (Gabriel had unwittingly drunk), and cast it to the ground.
No. No!
Seth ran his tongue along his bottom lip, lapping up a stray droplet of Gabriel’s blood. “My maker opened a new world for me. A world pulsating with new sensations. I used to have to walk through the streets, read the newspapers, to relish others’ fear, but now I can sense their fear, hear it in their voices. Smell it even. Taste it.” He brought his hand to his mouth and licked the tips of his fingers. “Glorious. And now with what Beautiful Light has bestowed upon me, I have exceeded that and taken upon me the name of fear and wear it like a cloak.”
Gabriel slashed the air between them with an open hand. “You’re weak. Without the bond you formed with Beautiful Light, you’re nothing. Nothing!” His present goal was to keep Seth talking. In order to break the blood bond, he’d have to get closer to Seth and mix their spilled blood onto the ground. He sidestepped behind a tree and vanished. He drifted in the air, hovering above Seth, who looked upward, and vanished out of the way. Gabriel realized that he could see him or at least sense him. A pointless game of hide and seek. The blood bond canceled out any means of him surprising Seth with an attack.
The other man laughed and moved with lightning speed in the opposite direction. “You dare to call me weak? You, Gabriel who defends the stupid humans, our prey? Ha. I do what you’re afraid to!”
Gabriel materialized several feet from him and stole backward toward the garden door. “Of course. Killing pleases you.”
He laughed again and snapped his fingers. “Yes.”
Before Gabriel could turn the knob, an intense pressure on his chest and his head, forced him to his knees. Paralyzed by something he couldn’t see. He knew, could sense that whatever suffocated him wasn’t Seth’s power, but something alien.
Ancient.
A power beyond both of them.
“Beautiful Light comes,” Seth said.
A flash of brightness, an explosion of light, seemed to burst in his brain, his mind, and he felt himself sliding, slipping away, like the rose petals had in the wind. He fell into a tunnel of darkness, a violet darkness streaked with living blue and gold.
At the end of the darkness shimmered a rainbow-colored core, pulsating like a heartbeat, throbbing with life.
In the center of that light stood Seth.
What more do you want? What more could you possibly want? Gabriel thought, unable to speak.
Seth smiled. “I once spoke to you about looking through the eyes of a god, and you know what they say about gods, don’t you? Whom the gods would destroy—they first drive mad. And I, Gabriel, want to see you suffer before I destroy you.”
Silence came followed by a blinding whiteness.
CHAPTER 27
The Boy With Empty Eyes
DREAMING. GABRIEL HAD BEEN DREAMING. But he couldn’t remember glimpsing the girl and her fluttering butterflies. He did remember his strong fingers wrapping and squeezing until the sound of cracking bones replaced a guttural scream.
He brought his hands to his face and flexed his fingers. They were his, but what he had dreamed doing with them seemed foreign, strange.
His eyes shifted to the window. Still night. A few minutes passed. The giant clock outside of his bedroom and down the hall chimed midnight. He had slept later than usual. Lately, without sleep, he felt exhausted, drained.
He closed his eyes and lay there hoping he could fall back to sleep and forget what he had dreamed. Forget everything. Oblivion. He wanted oblivion.
Even if you pretend doesn’t make it unreal, urged a voice. Seth’s voice. He was in his head. The blood bond had begun to work.
Seth laughed. Let your torment begin . . .
Gabriel covered his eyes with clenched hands. An image of a youth with black, empty eyes and mouth locked wide in a silent scream flashed into his mind.
He’s silent only because you cut off the air to his lungs.
Get out of my head! he screamed at him.
More laughter.
He snapped his eyes open and rose up.
He rushed out of his bed and down the hallway stairs. He didn’t bother slipping into a robe.
Yes. The front door. Open the door. And you shall see. You shall know the source of this . . . dream.
He flung the door open wide and saw a small package on the porch. He kicked it with the tips of his toes. It appeared to be harmless—no cobras or tarantulas crept out. Besides, he wasn’t in the mood for crushing such creatures—especially not with his bare feet. He drew in a deep breath and picked up the parcel with his thumb and forefinger. There was some weight to it, but not much. He opened it and peeked inside. Immediately after looking, the package slipped from his fingers and fell to the ground with a sickening thud.
He bit his tongue to stop himself from crying out. Tasting the coppery tang of his own blood only heightened his nausea. He bared his teeth in a grimace, slamming the door shut.
He remembered now why the boy in his dream seemed to have empty black pits where the eyes should have been. Seemed to.
He just didn’t want to recall how the boy’s eyes had come to be here.
* * *
Gabriel walked into the parlor. Colin sat in front of the fireplace carving a piece of wood with a knife into what looked like a swan.
“Did I go out at all?” Gabriel asked.
Colin shook his head.
“Are you certain?”
His fingers worked awkwardly over the wood with the knife. Gabriel wondered if he would cut himself. “I’ve been sitting here for quite some time and only saw you leave when you went to the front door and slammed it.” His head shot up. “You have no idea, Master Gabriel, but you’ve been sleeping for four days.” He cocked his head to the side. “What’s the matter? Why’d you slam the door?”
F
our days? He swallowed hard. A lump in his throat. The aftertaste of blood lingered in his mouth. Seth’s. He gagged on the memory before regaining control of himself. Vomiting wouldn’t help. Too late. Seth’s blood had already contaminated his system.
“Master? What is it?”
Gabriel looked at him. “If your curiosity is that overpowering, by all means have a look at it.” He motioned toward the front door.
“Just tell me what happened.”
Gabriel did. He even told him about the dream.
“So, he’s able to torment you from afar? You should tell Nathaniel,” Colin whispered. “He’s the one that found you.”
Gabriel threw his arms up in the air, “Oh, help me, Nathaniel!” he cried in a mock entreaty. “Help, I’ve had a nightmare!” He spun about, lowered his arms slowly and gave Colin a scornful sideways look. “If you can tell me of what good that will do, I shall spare no time to do so.”
Colin gave a nervous smile. “He seems to know things, Master Gabriel. Would you like me to tell him? He’ll be back tomorrow evening, said he was going to have a word with Lilith.” He gave one of his one-shouldered shrugs. “Besides, isn’t he the one who made you what you are? Then again, if that’s the case, why did he leave you and at a time like this?”
Gabriel placed a finger on his lips and leaned forward, thinking. “You think Nathaniel is my maker? You’re wrong. He isn’t my guide or my superior. He merely assisted Lilith in Enlightening me. He had saved me. Besides, Nathaniel told me he had been Enlightened five years before me and in the same manner.”
“Same manner?”
Gabriel told him a quick summary of the fairy tale.
Colin looked at him open-mouthed. “Fruit that gives immortality? But do you really believe that?”
“Don’t you?”
“At first, I thought that you keep what has happened from Nathaniel because of distrust, but now, I’m convinced that it’s pride.”
“No,” Gabriel replied. “You’re mistaken. It’s not pride or distrust, but both.” He turned around to return to his room. “Draw my bath,” he called over his shoulder to Colin. “And put out my dinner jacket. Now! I shall be going out.”
Gabriel emerged from his room half an hour later groomed to perfection. Outside, he closed his eyes and tugged through the invisible threads that held him and Seth together. He saw an image of him drinking and having a good time in the company of opulently dressed men and women. Their skin shined like moonlight, and their eyes had an ethereal glow. Chosen. He stabbed the cobblestone road with the butt of his walking stick. The sound rang out metallic and sharp in the deserted, misty street.
Colin made a lot of noise hopping down the steps of the house, swinging the horse reins in his hand. He opened the door to the back of the cab and bowed at the waist. “Where to, master?”
“I’m not sure exactly. I think Seth wants a confrontation. That must be why he doesn’t seem to be trying to guard me from his whereabouts, but all I can see are flashes of images and sounds.” Gabriel briefly described the façade of the building, the stores on the street’s corner.
Colin’s eyes lit up. “Sounds like he’s near Grosvenor Square.”
“Come on then,” Gabriel agreed. He tossed the walking stick into the air like a baton and caught it before slipping into the open door of the cab.
“What are you up to?” Colin asked from the driver’s seat.
Gabriel smiled. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
“With anticipation.” Colin cracked the leather reins. The wet snapping sound echoed with his laughter.
* * *
Gabriel rapped on the door of the row house with his cane. Greens and festive red bows decked the house. Definitely the place. He could just feel it. Damn this bond.
Colin took one last drag from his cigarette before letting it fall to the ground and stomping on it.
“When and where did you pick up this new vice?”
Colin smirked. “Everything’s a vice Master Gabriel, if you do it excessively.”
Gabriel’s eyes flickered to one of the windows. Inside, a Christmas tree glowed with candlelight, its branches laden with miniature porcelain angels draped in gold and white tunics. The illusion of an ordinary English family awaiting the return of Father Christmas. He didn’t have to wait long for a petite young woman to open the door. She looked elfin, fairy-like with her slender limbs. Too slender. Not to his taste, errr . . . liking. Her large pastel green eyes were pretty, though. She fell into a fluid curtsy, her face attentively turned up to his. “Ah! My Prince?” she squeaked in a shrill mousy voice. “What brings about this honorable visit?”
“Seth. I want Seth.”
She stepped backward, her mouth parted in a silent cry. “As you wish.” She opened the door wider and stepped to the side to let them pass by. Gabriel waved her on ahead of him so that he could walk behind her. Innocent looking or not, he couldn’t risk her doing anything behind his back.
Colin took advantage of the situation to watch with great interest the suggestive sway of her hips beneath the layers of mauve ribbon and silk.
They followed her into a huge dining room and froze. Gabriel couldn’t pay much attention to anything, other than Seth, who stood in front of a massive marble hearth. Dressed in a black robe this time, complete with a cowl, he looked grim and dark like the Ghost of Christmas Future. Two women lay at his feet. The one with her arms opened wide at her sides looked close to death’s door. Drinking from either of her wrists was a Chosen, both male. Their mouths were stained with blood, but not a drop blemished their evening wear. At least they were relatively neat, these beasts in cravat and frock coat. Gabriel glared at them, and one drew back his lips and hissed at him like a rabid wolf. The other withered and shrunk away, his russet-colored eyes widened in fear.
The other woman still lived. “Please stop,” she pleaded in a breathless voice. Her throat, smeared with blood, had obviously been cut. “I’ve changed my mind. Please,” she continued, desperately. Another Chosen with skin the color of burnt almonds laughed. She kneeled beside the woman, crooning something in a foreign language that sounded strangely musical and guttural.
Gabriel sensed her following actions would be cruel. But he interfered too late to stop the female Chosen from tearing the girl’s throat out, and the pleading stopped. The female vampire released the woman’s body to the floor, twitching in pain, to watch death throes.
Colin spouted angry curses and prepared to rush forward and attack.
Gabriel held up one hand, gesturing that Colin fall back.
Reluctantly, he took two steps backward, standing his ground in the frame of the door.
The fairy girl brushed past Gabriel, avoiding his gaze. “The Prince has graced us with a visit.” Her voice didn’t seem so shrill this time.
Seth nonchalantly stepped over the tangle of dead and not-so-dead bodies on the floor. “Come in. Come, join us.”
“You know, I’m not here to be sociable,” he replied. “I’ve come for you to break the bond.”
Seth’s robe billowed around him as he approached. He planted himself an arm’s length away, grinning.
“But you’re the one who wants to break the bond. You’re the one that should pay for such a choice. You willingly drank my blood.”
The other Chosen gave each other looks that Gabriel could only describe as shocked and a bit amused.
“Lies! You forced it,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “And you shall pay with your blood for such treachery.”
Seth pursed his lips together. “Watch what you say. You’re outnumbered. And more to the point, I promised them what you can’t. Power. Worship. Blood. What our immortality is meant for.”
Gabriel looked to all sides of him. Seth’s guests formed the noose of a tight circle around him. Except for the fairy-looking creature. She stood next to
Colin, her hands covering her mouth, her enormous eyes consuming her face. He looked at each of Seth’s cronies, held their gaze until all but three of them looked away. The one who had snarled at him earlier was still scowling at him. “Kneel to me. Or perish with Seth.”
None of them moved to bow the knee or to rush at him, but they stood staring at him instead. Gabriel unsheathed the cane to reveal a blade. He moved so quickly, that the Chosen closest to Seth didn’t realize what hit him. A look of exquisite surprise replaced his scowl. His hand slowly rose to his neck. He blinked twice before his head slipped with a splatter of blood from his white throat and fell onto the floor with a wet, sickening sound. His body followed slumping to the ground.
Gabriel turned the sword so that the light hit the blade glistening with blood. “Immortality, huh? Choose this night who you shall serve. Choose me, and I shall let you live. Choose Seth and,” he paused, glancing at the dead Chosen, “well, you get my meaning.”
Their eyes had gone pale and glowed with bloodlust and fear. With the recent blood flowing in their systems, they probably felt empowered, able to do anything, but now, reality had begun to sink in. He and Colin were outnumbered.
The girl standing beside Colin lowered her hands to her sides. “Seth. Harold has fallen. Bring him back. You promised that if any of us fell—”
Gabriel cut her off with a disdained laugh. “Ahhh. So that’s what you told them. That’s how you gain followers. By lying? You can’t bring anyone back from the dead.”
“And you, Gabriel who can, will not.” Seth stared at him, eyes burning wildly. “Now, why is that?”
He drew in his breath sharply. How did Seth know? He must’ve seen the memory of him resurrecting his sister. No. Damn him. What else did he know? Gabriel glared at him. “I don’t have to answer to you.”
“I am Clara.” The girl stepped forward. “I choose to serve you, Gabriel.” She spread the skirt of her gown wide and bent to the floor. The others followed in quick succession.