Andras opened his wings further, cupping the tips slightly to allow them to hover on the gentle breeze. His hold on Soborgne shifted to bring her head closer to his. She sealed her surrender with a long, passionate kiss. The prince’s smile held a twist of satisfaction. He could feel her resignation and he knew they would reclaim the demon’s former grandeur.
21
Jenda’s form flashed again. Her imaged blurred like the grainy screen of an old television with bad reception and Matteo insisted. “Look, she’s there. She’s in her world. She’s not dead. She is on the astral planes. Look! Look at her damn it. Get her out of the fire! You are going to kill her. You’re going to burn her alive you bastards.”
The sun edged up the horizon and the other vampires’ bodies sagged as the squinted their eyes against the pain of the shadowed light in the eastern sky. Their instincts demanded they seek refuge from the certain death that would come with dawn. Patrick and Imre’s feet dug into the earth as Matteo dragged them closer to the fire. Jenda’s perfect white skin fizzled and smoked. Empowered by his belief that his love still lived and his immunity to the oncoming daylight, Matteo’s strength was greater than it had ever been.
The weakened vampires fought hard against their friend until Meredith’s voice broke through the commotion. “Let him go! Grab her. Get her out of the fire!”
Eyes wide, the others released Matteo but did not follow the witch’s command. They were certain Meredith had lost her mind as well. Without hesitation, Celeste moved. Her figure was a blur as she used her immortal speed and ancient blood to move faster than even the vampire eye could follow. She ripped Jenda’s body from the pyre, scorching her own flesh and clothing in the process. Without pausing, she ran the girl’s smoldering form to one of the many large marble statues that decorated the grounds and plunged her into the water.
Matteo rushed to Celeste’s side. Grabbing Jenda from the Celeste’s arms he demanded, “Get inside, now.”
Before he could finish speaking, the first golden rays broke through the foliage above the courtyard. Celeste’s lip peeled back and she let out a pain-ridden hiss before she vanished in a flurry of smoke and terrified cries. Matteo did not search out the others. He knew by the silence that they had evacuated the ritual area before the sun had peeked over the edge of the world. However, he had forgotten that, as a witch, Meredith had no fear of dawn and could move at will during the daylight hours.
As Matteo knelt beside the fountain, he held Jenda’s body in his arms. He did not feel the water that soaked them both nor did he notice the others fleeing into the safety of the castle. Rocking her back and forth, he smoothed the damp curls from her face and wept. He wondered how many times he could come so close to losing her as he had, before he lost his mind.
He didn’t know if Jenda could hear his words but he spoke to her anyway. “I swear to you, if we make it through this, I will never let anything happen to you again. I will never leave your side. My darling, my love, my Baobhan Sith.”
Jenda continued to flicker in and out of focus and, eventually, Matteo lost hope that she would wake. As he prepared to move her back inside the castle, Agi appeared. She looked as brittle as old paper and her eyes were red from crying. The funeral had been hard on the human girl and the news that Jenda still lived had sent her into tears of joy. Matteo should have known that she would be waiting for an appropriate time to approach him. Agi never seemed to be far from Jenda when she needed her.
“Bring her inside, Matteo, I have had the others prepare a special room for our girl.” She placed her hand on his arm and guided him in the right direction.
The vampire and the little mortal mother-to-be did not speak as they walked the halls of Vajdahunyad. Others stared and smiled weakly as the two passed. No one truly understood what was happening and, though it angered him, Matteo tried to forgive the curious onlookers vying for a chance to see Jenda in her peculiar state.
Celeste met them at the entrance to a hallway that Jenda had once called the bloody corridor. During the Draculs’ attack on the castle, Jenda had stumbled into the hallway and nearly killed Agi when the bleeding girl had fallen into her arms. Jenda had later described the dark mahogany walls and black veined rust colored floor tiles in conversation. Carrying her through the passage, he could see the accuracy of her words. He had been too distraught the night of the battle to notice but without the panic the décor instantly brought blood to the front of his mind.
Celeste paused in front of the same room where Jenda had placed Agi for safekeeping and waved her hand over the golden runes. Her voice was strong despite the weakness that marred the face of the Lady of Vajdahunyad. “Am comanda a deschide în numele de înger Ariel. I command you to open in the name of the angel Ariel.”
The door opened and the others stepped back to allow Matteo to carry her to the large four-poster bed. After the attack on the castle, the staff had thoroughly cleaned the room to rid it of the dark taint. Matteo slid his beloved onto the bed, cradling her head like an infant. When he stood, the tension eased out of his muscles and he hung his head. Jenda wasn’t safe yet but the softness of a bed beat the heat of the pyre any day.
22
Jenda felt the angel carefully pull away, causing her to whimper as she hungrily sucked harder on the open wound. Running the tip of her tongue across the smoothness of her bottom lip, she caught the final zing from a smear of blood left over from the feeding. It took a few moments for her to be able to focus her thoughts and pry open her eyes, which had closed while she lingered in the pleasurable stupor of the bloodlust.
Kneeling on the ground, pressed tightly against the body of her benefactor, Jenda’s consciousness of her surroundings slowly bled through the savage hunger. An indescribable fear set in as she fought to overcome her desire to savor more of the sweet and earthy taste of his blood once more. She had fed from an angel and was sure a fierce punishment would follow.
Realizing that her hands still held tightly to Abraxos’s powerful forearm, Jenda looked upward. His skin had paled slightly but his encouraging smile filled her with a sense of relief. Wrapping his arms around her in a gentle and chaste embrace, he placed a kiss upon her brow.
His voice was a tender embrace as he whispered, “Freely given, little one. The blood is yours to help you survive what will come. The prophecy foretells that truth will be found in the blood and now all is set for you to venture into the land beyond Nod where the demons rule.”
The other male, the female, and Ashley came over and lifted Jenda to her feet. A radiating warmth wrapped itself around her as she made her way down the white sandy beach in the company of angels. Jenda’s escort ended at the head of the bridge where she embraced Ashley for a final goodbye. Turning on her heels, Jenda took her first step toward destiny.
Her naked feet padded against the damp wooden planks. The sound of the gently lapping water and the smell of salt filled her senses as she grew closer to the steel-gray mist. Just as Jenda hit the wall that separated the two realms, she heard a voice in the darkness.
Ashley sent her a final message: “Your blood and the blood of an angel are now one and the same. Remember Jenda. Remember the prophecy.”
Jenda’s eyes tried to break through the fog to see anything farther out than arm’s reach. The mist seemed to swell and swirl against her just to ensure she would remain sightless. Leaning on the railing heavily, she paused and took deep breaths. Once she settled her mind, Jenda began to form a plan.
Walking into a possibly dangerous situation completely blind was not something she wished to do. Jenda raised the wall on her psychic abilities by an inch. Sending careful feelers out in front of her, she searched for any life or trace of what may await her. Her stomach rolled from the undiluted evil that sprang forth from the land that stood at the end of the bridge, only a few feet away from her current position. The wall snapped back down around her.
The psychic aura around her held an undercurrent of malicious hate that seemed as heavy as the rolling fog. She co
uld sense the core, the life of those who the dark spirit embodied. The magic that gave life to those inhuman beings contained a strange molecular consistency. Yet, it was not more or less than vampire or human, just different.
When Jenda opened herself up to the presence of others, it was as if she were alone in the midnight sky. Each being became a light in the ebony abyss. Vampires were a cold light while witches burned green with the fire of the earth. Both shined brighter than the dim but warm yellow luminance of the humans. The new light was unlike any other. It burned with the white-hot intensity of a dwarf star as it seemingly pulled the darkness in to it rather than use its light to push the shadows away.
Jenda positioned herself in the middle of the structure, putting as much distance as possible between her and the sides of the bridge. She suddenly feared what may lie in the swirling waters below. She felt vulnerable without the ability to see the dangers, and the malevolence around her made her wary of releasing her gift once more. Hoping nothing stood behind the gray veil waiting to attack, she attempted to focus her power in a new way.
Like the wall she had learned to build around her thoughts and the glass shield she formed to keep her senses from touching every mind around her, Jenda built a new filter. She pictured a thin shell around her, a second skin that molded to her small frame. She let the tendrils of her gift fill the small space between her body and the outer shell. She could taste her own fear and rigid control as the outer wall pushed her abilities against her flesh. Her extra sense responded to the onslaught of feelings burning inside her and echoed them in a strange boomerang effect.
With the encasing secured tightly around her, Jenda felt overwhelmed by her inner turmoil. She needed space. Enough to warn her of an oncoming attacker but not so much that the evil in the atmosphere overwhelmed her. She pushed outward and the shell pulsed. She could feel it just beyond arms’ reach. Jenda pressed against the field once more and it slipped through the wall of mist to just beyond where her vision ended.
Concentrating on the invisible presence hugging her body, Jenda tried to filter away the general malice. She focused her energy on pinpointing any type of intention toward her. If anything sought her out specifically, the shield would allow those feelings through and she would not be caught off guard. The silence that replaced the whirring menace was nearly as discomforting.
Jenda wasn’t sure that her attempt would work until she felt the movement in the water below. It wasn’t physical movement, more of a mind’s thought shifting in the gray. The presence brushed against her outer barriers and sent Jenda scurrying forward in mild panic. Something watched her with interest from the boggy depths.
The touch was not full of hatred or ill will as she expected. Instead, it seemed filled with anticipation and concern. The mysterious being had not been thinking of killing Jenda, it had seemed frightened by her. Scurrying away, she pushed the startling experience from her mind. She had no time for oddities.
She felt nothing else near her as she crossed the last vestiges of the bridge and the fog became tinted red instead of gray. The thickness gave away to a light shroud and the land beyond came clear. The haggard and rough earth formed deep shadows in the landscape. The darkness pulsated with hate. Afraid of what might happen once she touched the scorched crimson earth, her steps were cautious and slow.
As she moved onto the land, the menace turned on her. Jenda quickly yanked her extra senses back in completely in an attempt to avoid contact with the terrible atmosphere. Her reaction time was not quick enough to prevent the onslaught. Horrendous tremors seized her and her muscles refused to obey her command.
Jenda heard a familiar scream. In the distance, she saw Soborgne struggling against a man with black wings. Valiantly trying to fight her crippled body, Jenda wrestled with her unresponsive limbs. She watched, as if in slow motion, as the demon lifted Soborgne into the sky with one powerful beat of his wings.
When the paralysis finally waned, Soborgne was only a speck in the crimson sky. Jenda ran toward where the creature had lifted from the ground with Soborgne struggling against him. Jenda realized that chasing them was futile. She would soon be unable to locate them with the naked eye. Turning over the creature’s appearance in her mind, realization hit her with a powerful and sickening truth. The winged demon was the Prince of Darkness, the leader of the demons.
Jenda turned in a low circle, observing the never-ending wasteland that loomed in every direction. Seeing no other choice she climbed the shoreline and ventured into a world of danger. She stumbled through the landscape, fearful of the deep crevices and the never-ending darkness they held. Her choices were to walk near them or take to the large stretches of unbroken ground. Deciding that being easily visible was safer than stumbling across a predator hidden in the cracks, she strode ahead.
Far ahead of her, Jenda could see a cloud of dust rising out of the ground. Within the veil of raised dirt, she saw the silhouettes of large hulking creatures as they trudged to some unknown destination. She hesitated to continue but, seeing nothing approaching her from any direction, she figured the safest path was to follow them from behind. Their determined march seemed to command their attention enough that she did not fear one of them turning to discover her as she lingered far behind them.
23
Together, Andras and Soborgne covered a large span of the world in which he ruled. Though the land was barren and drowning in the red glare of the strange sun, it still held a strange essence of beauty. The large outcroppings of rock formations, waving sand beaches, and deep canyons unfolded below her in a portrait of grand proportions. If not for the demonic inhabitants, Soborgne would have associated the landscape with the term “God’s country.”
As they glided on the winds, his voice was a constant whisper in her ear. He talked to her of their future. Of how he could help her forget all the pain, the hurt, and abandonment that tortured her heart. He wove a vision of how the two of them would rule heaven and earth as indestructible, eternal beings. Soborgne could see her place and she prepared herself for what she must do next.
By the time Andras landed them safely next to the twisted tree, Soborgne had surrendered to him completely. He continued to cradle her as he cooed softly into her ear. “Your choice is the right one. You will control the three dimensions as my queen. All the wrongs committed against you will be avenged. There is nothing that won’t be yours.”
Soborgne lifted her head, her eyes locking with Andras’s, and she gently pressed her lips to his. The sweetness of the kiss fuelled a fire inside the demon prince that nearly consumed him. Unfurling his great black wings to their full reach, he returned Soborgne’s gentleness with passion. Forcing himself to break away was nearly impossible.
Gently sitting her down, he gazed into her enraptured face. She wrapped her arms around his waist and sank into the warmth of his flesh. Andras raised one clawed hand and stroked her cheek with his razor-sharp talon. Soborgne shivered, lost in the promise of pain and pleasure in the touch. The demon enclosed her within the circle of his arms, relishing the feel of her supple body so willingly pressed against him.
His voice was deep and full of need. “The time has come to set the inevitable in motion. Are you ready to do what must be done in order to loose our strength upon the realms and take what is rightfully ours?”
Soborgne’s eyes blazed. Her voice was shaky but she spoke with complete conviction. “I am ready. Let us end this.”
Andras called out in a wail that sent fire into her gut and ice through her veins. As the flames raged inside, her body felt as if a thin sheet of ice had formed on her flesh. From the depths of the land, the horde came. They lined the path and stretched out across the land. Their haunting cries filled the landscape with a mournful salute. The procession seemed never ending as she watched them come forward.
Andras gently freed himself from Soborgne’s hold and turned her until she faced the howling, snarling tribe. His voice was full of victory as he sang, “The darkness has a new
queen. Bow down before the demon mother and pledge your service. She will lead us to our victory. She is our savior and will be our sword.”
The demons roared their pledge into the burning haze and the sheer force of their voices rising in unison rocked Soborgne. Closing her eyes, she leaned heavily on Andras as she rode out the emotional roller coaster. Submitting to the demon had been a difficult decision but, faced with her brethren, she began to find solace in her choice.
Stepping forward, she shed the fear and abhorrence she had felt for the creatures. The crimson realm crawled with dark figures as they found their way to the meeting place. When she was sure that all of her followers had come to rest within hearing distance of her voice, Soborgne raised her arms and gave an animalistic cry of her own. She felt the shift inside her as if someone had flipped a switch.
Her body surged with dark power and a thirst greater than any she had felt before. She was no longer human, vampire, or demon. She embraced her bloody heritage. The queen of the demons, the child of darkness, and the bad girl melded into one. Soborgne became the demon-dead monster all others had feared she would.
“Vampires.” The word brought a chorus of snarls from those around her. “The beasts have lived an eternity as beings free to walk the earth. Yet, their trickery condemned us to a world in which we exist as mutated shells hidden in this barren wasteland.”
She paused, letting the hate build like a vapor in the air around them. “God.” Another round of snarls followed the word. “He, who did not create and had no right to condemn, hath cast us into decay and degeneration with this curse. He imprisoned our people here in this crimson hell.”
The demons shifted and roared. Dark energy swirled through the gathering place. “Humans.” Wild roars of rage echoed through the crevices and off the high cliffs across the land. “Nothing more than fodder and waste, the pathetic creatures walk the earthly realm and speak of us as if we were fairytales not fit for the respect we deserve.”
Requiem of Humanity Page 56