Avalon Revisited
Page 22
I stood up and faced the doctor, who had moved closer. I decided at that moment that I would wipe that smug look from his face if it was the last thing I did on this earth. He held the crossbow at near-point blank range and then chuckled, ever so softly. Rage filled my being, and he saw it as well. His eyes widened, and he pulled the trigger, sending the wooden shaft towards my heart.
In one movement without even looking, as if by pure instinct, I snatched the arrow from the air, whipped it around, and stuck it through the doctor’s throat. Thrusting my hand into his chest, I pulled out his still beating heart, showed it to him, and then took a huge bite out of it while he watched. He wasn’t smiling now. The taste of it was rank, and I spat it out onto his lifeless body and wiped the rest of his foul blood on my sleeve.
I turned back to Avalon, barely still alive. She had to be in indescribable pain. Gathering her up in my arms, she coughed more blood on me. I couldn’t lose her. Not now. I couldn’t bear existence without her.
“Don’t go, my sweet. Please, not now that I’ve found you,” I said to her. I wiped my bloody tears from her face and smoothed back her hair.
“I’m cold, Arthur.”
“Oh Avalon. I love you, sweet Avalon.” I squeezed her tightly to me. Then a thought occurred to me. I didn’t have to lose her. We could be together forever! With my own teeth, I ripped an opening in my wrist and put it up to her mouth. She didn’t have the strength to resist or react in any way, but the blood flowed into her. I tilted her head back, hoping it would trickle down her throat on its own. In all these years, I had never turned another, so I wasn’t even completely sure how. Just the memory of that dark angel and mythology was all I had to go on.
Then it was finished.
All movement stopped. I heard her heart beat its last, and she drew her last breath.
I held her body for a long while, rocking back and forth and crying silently, for there was no one left to hear my grief. All around me was blood and dust. I let grief consume me, delving into it and finding there was no bottom. I thought of the light in her eyes, now forever dark. I thought of the taste of her lips and their warmth, now forever cold.
Finally, I laid her back down. The grief turned to rage. With my foot, I stomped on the necks of the remaining paralyzed zombies, beheading them into dust with one strike. I ripped the doctor’s body to pieces, flinging parts of that monster all over the lab. One of his arms hit the empty glass vessel, breaking it. Gelatinous bile oozed from the broken container all over the lab.
I broke the other two with my fists, feeding my rage and freeing the werewolf. The moon was not full and so he turned back into human form after being severed from the blasted machine. He fell to the floor, unconscious, likely in need of medical attention, if he even could survive such an ordeal. I’d have Thomas send a doctor.
The animated corpse that had been in the second vessel crumpled once again into the sleep of death when it was disengaged from its viscous prison.
I beheaded it. Just in case.
I continued my rampage of grief until the entire laboratory was in shambles. When all the cogs were broken in two. When all the glass was smashed. When all the instruments were bent.
When all the machinery was demolished. I went back to my Avalon and lifted her up in my arms.
I would take my beloved home.
Chapter 24
I reached my doorstep just before dawn.
Thomas was there to greet me, and I tried to explain the best I could, albeit briefly. I was far too exhausted to go into much detail, and I certainly didn’t want to relive it all.
“Cecil, m’lord?” he said, without judgment one way or the other, just as if confirming a fact.
Good man, Thomas. Professional.
“Yes, Thomas. You’ll understand if I keep you under close watch awhile, won’t you?”
“Of course, m’lord. And Miss Avalon?”
I looked down at her sweet, still face. Her entire body lay lifeless in my arms, and I wasn’t sure what to do. Just mere minutes ago she had been surrounding me with her love, enveloping my body with hers. And now she was so still. So cold.
Just like me.
I hated myself. She was in this position because of me. If I had never come into her life, she and Victor would both still be alive. If I had never lost control with that Haldenby woman, none of this would’ve happened. If I had seen Cecil for what he was, but I had foolishly trusted him, like I had trusted Catherine. Henry. Father. After all these centuries, I was still a foolish and naïve.
I hugged her more closely to me and rested my cheek on her soft hair.
“She might turn. She might not. I’d like to keep her here for a few days to see if she does.” I felt hope spark somewhere deep in the darkness of my mind, but I couldn’t allow myself the luxury of hope. For with hope comes the inevitable sorrow. The regret. I’ve certainly been around long enough to know that, and I couldn’t bear any more despair.
For the first time, I no longer feared nothingness.
“And if she does turn,” I continued, “I’m not sure what she’ll be. I don’t think she was bitten by the zombie thing, but I can’t be too sure with all that’s happened. And it all happened so fast. I was near unconscious for some of it.”
“Of course, m’lord,” Thomas said, obviously confused by this statement, but he was a good man and didn’t press the issue. There will be time for explanations later. “Shall I make up the guest room?”
“No, Thomas. I’ll bring her to bed with me. Would you draw a bath? I’m covered in filth, and I have wounds which need attending.”
“Of course, m’lord.”
“Then you need to send a doctor over to Lacy’s. Anonymously, of course. There is a man there in desperate need of medical attention.”
“Yes, m’lord.”
I took Avalon up to my room and laid her on my bed. I had dreamed of having her in my bed, but not like this. I cursed myself for my lustful, impudent thoughts after I first met Avalon, thinking she was just another conquest. Calling that base whore by her name. I deserved this pain. I deserved this and so much more dolor for what I had done in life. In death.
I was finally getting my due.
The wash basin on the dresser was full of fresh water, and my mind went back to Cecil. He must’ve filled it before he had left. Had he known what would happen? What had he been thinking? How did I not see his betrayal?
I brought the basin over to the bed and used the water along with a washcloth to wipe the smudged blood and dirt from her beautiful face. When her fair skin was once again clean, I checked her for bite marks. I couldn’t shake the dread that she might turn into one of those things. I would have to kill her then, but I knew I could not. I would kill myself first. Perhaps death would collect this debt after all. There were no bite marks on her face, neck or shoulders. I wouldn’t undress the lady, not for the world. She deserved her dignity and my utmost respect, but I did take note of each tear in the fabric and concluded that she had not been bitten after all. If she rose, she would be like me. If she didn’t, I would be like her. Her hair was in tangles from the fray, so I used my comb to work through it, smoothing out her long, sable locks. Then, laying her head upon a satin pillow, and properly arranging her, I left her there to bathe myself.
The bath water felt warm against my cold skin, although I knew it hadn’t been heated. As I lowered myself into the tub, the water became muddled with the dirt and blood that dissolved from my body. Some of that blood was Avalon’s. It had been her life force, and now it surrounded me in murky red-brown clouds suspended in water. I sank down, submerging myself completely underwater and remained there for a long time, thinking about the events over the past month. Musing at how my existence had barely changed for over three hundred years and then how so much had changed (and so drastically) in the short span of a month. Time was a funny thing.
I remained there beneath the murky water for a long time. I wasn’t sure how long, but finally, when it
seemed absurd to be there any longer, I rose from the tub and dried off. All the zombie bites on my hands, arms, and neck had already healed. I donned my night clothes and dressing gown, my mind oblivious to my movements. It was as if someone else dressed me. Every movement seemed forced and aimless at the same time. Walking back to my bedchamber, I felt my feet hit the floor, carrying me across the house. The futility of it all weighed heavy on my ancient shoulders. The insignificance of it all.
Back in my bedchamber, I could see through the shadows cast by the stream of sunlight filtering in from the edges of my dark curtains that the sun was already much higher in the sky. I must’ve been in the bath several hours, but Avalon was just as I left her.
I traced my hand over her lovely features.
Cold.
Hard.
Mouth closed with her lips forming a perfect “o” directly in the center.
Eyes staring at nothing.
Black hair spread out on the pillow, framing her sweet face.
Hands arranged on her stomach, over the fatal wound.
Dirty, torn skirts covering her legs...
Only a few hours ago we had made love. Her warmth surrounded me. Her breath in my ear. I decided right then that I no longer wanted any other woman. Any lustful decadence would cheapen that beautiful moment with Avalon, perhaps now more dear because it was forever gone.
Then I understood the true meaning of death.
I climbed into bed and curled myself around her, repositioning her to mold against me. And then I slept, holding her.
I did not reawaken until well after midnight, and Avalon was still beside me. Cold.
Unmoving.
I buried my face in the ruffles of her sleeve and wept, staining the dress with more blood. I finally managed to get out of bed sometime around three. The house was quiet.
Thomas was sleeping.
Cecil was gone.
Avalon was dead.
I went into the kitchen and made myself some tea, welcoming the sound of the whistling kettle and the crackle of the fire. Something to fill the void. I drank in silence, then retreated back into my room.
It occurred to me that my life would never be the same. I was forever changed. I was stronger, as somehow the werevamp zombie saliva didn’t react with me as it did humans.
Fortunately I didn’t seem to take on a werewolf appearance when my fangs descended, thank goodness for the small things, but I did have added strength. Perhaps a stake would no longer dust me, but it's not something I cared to test just yet.
Perhaps if Avalon didn’t wake up.
The sun would rise soon, but I wanted no part of light. I slid back into bed next to my beloved and pulled the covers over my head, trapping the darkness all around me, finding comfort in it. And slept again.
This time, it was at dusk I awoke. Thomas was pulling the curtains back, and he had brought me tea. Good man, Thomas.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Anything else, m’lord?”
I looked over at Avalon and then back at Thomas. “It’s been over twenty-four hours. She may not wake up, Thomas. I suppose we shall have to make burial arrangements.”
I remembered my own musings at the ritual of burying something that was no longer that which one loved, an empty vessel, but now it seemed quite important that this particular collection of dead tissue still looked so much like my beloved. My all. My everything. My world.
I would give her body a proper burial. It was the least I could do.
“Of course, m’lord. I will do that first thing in the morning,” Thomas said gently.
“Thank you, Thomas. I think I will stay in tonight.” For what was there for me outside of these walls? Everything that I am was lying here next to me.
“Of course, m’lord.” There was concern in Thomas’s face. I probably looked dreadful, as grief does not complement vanity, but I didn’t much care.
My world had ended with Avalon.
Thomas stayed a moment longer, but he couldn’t find anything else to say. His lanky frame lingered in my doorway, but I had no words for him. For anyone. After some time, he left quietly, closing the door behind him.
I picked up the cup and stirred my tea. I would have to feed soon, I thought. But there would be no joy in it. Perhaps I’d just go out at dawn and be done with it.
“What? No tea for me?”
I whipped around and saw that Avalon had awoken! Her skin glowed exquisitely in the candlelight. Her long, black curls rested on her shoulders, and I dropped my tea in my excitement. I reached over to her, cupped her face in my hands, and kissed her. Her lips were hard and cold... and perfect.
“How do you feel, my love?” I asked.
“Thirsty,” she said, then set her flawless mouth in that tiny stone “o.”
“Of course,” Joy filled my being. I smiled, and I felt the joy shine from my eyes and through my heart. “I am as well. Shall we find someone to drink?”
“By all means,” she said and she smiled, too. Her fangs were gleaming and they were normal. No snout. No furrowed brow. No jagged teeth. Just two perfectly pointed canines.
I took her by the hand and led her out of bed. She looked at her torn dress and then back up at me.
“Can I have a new dress, too?”
“You can have whatever you desire, my love.”
I took her into my arms and kissed her... forever.
###
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O. M. Grey is the pen name of YA author Christine Rose. For more magical adventure and paranormal romance set in a story appropriate for all ages, read Christine and Ethan Rose's YA crossover series ROWAN OF THE WOOD, winner of the 2009 Indie Excellence award. Currently three books in the series: ROWAN OF THE WOOD, WITCH ON THE WATER, & FIRE OF THE FEY. All available on the KINDLE, also at Smashwords, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, the author's website, and wherever books are sold. http://christinerose.wordpress.com
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After a millennium of imprisonment in his magic wand, an ancient wizard possesses the young boy who released him. When danger is nigh, he emerges from the frightened child to set things right. Both he and the boy try to grasp what has happened to them only to discover a deeper problem. Somehow the wizard’s bride from the ancient past has survived and become something evil.
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Witch on the Water
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Cullen thought he had enough trouble surviving school, dealing with his miserable home life, and being possessed by Rowan, a 1400-year-old wizard. But when Rowan's wife, the sadistic vampire Fiana, comes back seeking revenge, Cullen and his band of misfits must do what they can to stop her. This time Cullen's favorite teacher is Fiana's first target.
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Adventures continue for Cullen Knight and his band of misfits in this third installment of the Rowan of the Wood fantasy series. Still possessed by the wizard Rowan, Cullen settles into his new
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Entranscing
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The second book in The Hidden Lands of Nod revisits Meg and her friends from the exile realms of the Dvarsh–the metamathemage, Ekaterina Rigidstick, and her cousin, the part-human poet, Jackanapes Plenty–in a vastly different reality twenty years on. Peril and possibility are equally afoot as Meg seeks to resolve lingering issues from her season on the mountain. This fast-moving follow-on to Prelude to a Change of Mind picks up and enlarges the tale of Meg, the Dvarsh, the Thrm, and their collective struggle to save both love and the planet.
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1