The incense was making me lightheaded. In front the pillars there were two ornate candelabra with thick candles burning in them, dripping in what looked like centuries of wax.
Above the altar weak light filtered through a circular window set in a dome above. The moon flickered behind scudding clouds. Looking quickly left and right over my shoulders to be sure there was no one behind me, I walked along the marble hall toward the altar.
My heart quickened its pace. Cold sweat broke out down my spine.
“Grandma!”
Grandma stood behind the altar. Terrified, but pushing caution aside, I rushed forward.
As I approached, I saw the real horror of the situation. She wasn’t exactly standing behind the altar after all. She was hanging there.
Her arms were raised diagonally, wrists clamped in vicious-looking steel manacles suspended by two chains bolted into the walls. She’d been stripped naked and her head slumped forward on her bony breast.
I was shocked to see her so fragile, so vulnerable, and so humiliated.
But a flicker of hope sparked in my heart. Perhaps destiny was on my side after all. I’d come at a time when Grandma was unguarded. If I could release her somehow, get her out…
I ran up the steps and slipped round the altar. Then I saw why Grandma’s crystal had no longer resonated with mine. Still on its silver chain, it had been laid over the skull resting on the altar. I didn’t have time to stop and think; to ask myself how that had happened within the few minutes after I’d gotten in; to realize that Grandma couldn’t and wouldn’t have done it.
I stretched out my hand to retrieve Grandma’s crystal, but even before my fingers touched it, a sharp stab of pain shocked from my fingertips up my arm to my shoulder. Whatever dark magic it was, some spell had been cast to protect the altar. I cursed my weakness, my lack of power, and fear washed over me again like a dark, icy wave.
“Amelia?”
Grandma’s voice. At first I thought it was a psychic communication it was so quiet. But when I snapped round toward her, she’d raised her head and was looking at me.
“Amelia, is that you?”
“Grandma,” I said. “Yes, it’s me. I’ve come to get you out of here.”
In that moment I saw something in Grandma’s eyes that I’d never thought I would see: Fear. Pulling herself up on her chained arms, she shook her head desperately. “No, no,” she said. “You must get away. You have not come into your power. It is too dangerous. He’s here. He’s still here. And he is powerful. He means to start the ritual.”
“The ritual? What ritual?”
“To open the Gate. To admit the demonic powers.” Grandma had tears in her eyes and sorrow mixed with her fear. “This is one of the Gates we are meant to protect, Amelia, to keep closed for all time. But look at me now! I have no more power. You are yet to come into yours.” I followed her line of sight as she gazed up through the glass dome above us. “Tonight is the Dragon Moon. But instead of that power being used to awaken the blood within you, he will use it to destroy us and open the Gate. It is already too late, Amelia. Forget about me. Save yourself. Save yourself!”
All the time she’d been talking I’d been struggling with the manacles around her wrists, but they were locked tight and there was no way to prize them apart. I gasped and slumped back, defeated.
“But who are you talking about?” I said. “Who is he?”
“He is one of us,” Grandma said. “He is Dragon-born. His family escaped the flooding of Atlantis just as ours did.”
I was looking for something I might be able to use as a crowbar to break the manacles open when a voice, deep and rich, echoed through the temple.
I had snatched up a candlestick and now span round, gripping it shakily, like a sword.
A man stood in the middle of the temple. He was dressed as a Victorian gentleman, wearing a black cape over his shoulders and a mahogany walking cane with a silver top shaped as a dragon. His shoe heels clicked, echoing through the space, as he stepped forward toward the pillars and the altar.
“Indeed,” he said. “I am Dragon-born. And unlike some of us,” he eyed the trembling candlestick with mockery, “I am in the fullness of my power.”
I put myself between Grandma and the altar.
“Sorry to sneak up on you like that,” he said. “I’ve got this new toy, you see.” He pulled back his cape and showed a small black box with a flashing red light. “I believe it’s called a VIBE. Clever, don’t you think? Couldn’t wait to try it out.”
I felt the blood draining from my face, a creeping dread beneath my skin. “Where did you get that?”
“Why, from your policeman friend, of course. But don’t worry.” He paused. “He won’t miss it.”
“What have you done to him?”
He dismissed me with a flick of his gloved hand.
“If you’re one of us,” I whispered, my throat dry, “then why are you trying to open the Gate? It’s our sworn duty to keep the Gates closed, to preserve the world for the New Age.”
The man smiled and shook his head. He removed his top hat and dropped it onto a carved oak chair. Swinging his cane under his left arm he thrust his hands into his pockets and paced back and forth. “No,” he said. “That is not our sworn duty.”
He turned abruptly, his face grimly set. His voice was quiet now, but more threatening. “What do you know? How old are you? Nineteen? Twenty-something? Barely more than a child!”
“Let my grandmother go,” I said, but my voice was weak and pleading.
“The old woman would have died anyway,” said the gentleman, shrugging. “Her blood will be sufficient propitiation. Her sacrifice will provide the power to open this Gate and admit the demon Azazel. He will be the first of many.”
He paced suddenly toward me. I admit I flinched back and with a swift, effortless gesture, he knocked the candlestick from my hand. I backed up against one of the pillars. He laughed.
“We were fools to swear allegiance to the humans. What are they after all? I’ll tell you, Amelia. They’re foolish, greedy, despicable animals.”
My heart pounded and my palms were slippery against the smooth, cool surface of the pillar. Grandma had slumped again, eyes closed, barely even breathing.
“Don’t you see what they’re doing? Left to their own devices they’ll destroy this world themselves! And once they do, it will fall into the power of the demons in any case. Why should we protect them? Do we owe them anything?” He lowered his head a moment, as if weary. “No, we do not.”
I shook my head, desperate now. For all I knew he might be right, but my only thought was getting Grandma and me out of this alive. “The demons would destroy us either way,” I said. “After all, they destroyed Atlantis in the first place. It’s crazy to let them back in!”
“Only because we were divided as we are divided now. We, the Old Ones, the Dragon-born, have no debt to pay to these pathetic, hairless monkeys! If we unite and invoke the demons, then we can control them. We can add their power to ours. Don’t you see? We can destroy these pathetic creatures, these humans, with their ignorance and greed, and we can rebuild Atlantis! We can make a great civilization once more! We can return to our original form!”
“Who are you?” I said.
“I am known here as Dr Moratu. You know better than to ask me my Dragon name. But I know who you are, Amelia Stone. And I would rather win you over to my cause.”
“I’d be useless to you,” I said. “Without my grandmother to initiate me, to awaken my Dragon Blood, I’ll be stuck in this human form. I’ll be powerless. If you want me to co-operate, you’ve to free my grandmother.”
As much as I hated what Dr Moratu, or whoever he really was, had done to Grandma, I found it hard to deny the truth he’d spoken about the human race. But then I thought of the humans I knew. I thought of Dan, of Joe Summers, and my friends at Uni. I’d seen the news, seen the horrors of warfare, injustice, global warming, and all of that, sure. And yes, I don’t mind admitting some
times I’d wondered just why the hell my People were committed to protecting such a messed up species. But I’d seen the good in them, too. There was potential, right? And I’d been taught it was that potential we had sworn to protect.
Dr Moratu walked closer, climbing the steps and standing just on the other side of the altar to me. He glanced up at the moon. He spoke, his voice like a snake. “A sacrifice must be a made,” he said. He was looking at Grandma’s limp body. “And if not this old lady…”
I tensed in sudden, desperate fear.
But it was too late.
Moratu’s hand grasped the top of his walking cane, giving it a sharp twist, revealing a concealed blade.
Before I’d even realized what was happening he snapped forward, lunging over the altar. Pushed back against the pillar, the sharp steel point pressed against the flesh of my neck.
Dr Moratu didn’t smile. His eyes burned with dark fire.
“If not that spent old hag,” he spat. “Then, Miss Amelia Stone, perhaps your young Dragon blood will do.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
I LOCKED EYES WITH DR Moratu. His were dark fire, burning with ambition. Mine must have looked like the eyes of a frightened rabbit caught in headlights. My heartbeat was erratic and a wet film of sweat caused the back of my dress to stick to my spine.
“Are you afraid to die, Miss Stone?” Dr Moratu sneered.
I said nothing. My throat was dry. Perhaps he was right, I thought. Maybe there was no point trying to save a species so bent on its own destruction. And in any case, from all that I’d seen - the destruction of Atlantis, my parents’ abduction, and now this - perhaps inviting and controlling these demonic forces, rather than trying to resist or destroy them, would be the right thing to do.
Dr Moratu’s eyes narrowed. A smile played at the corners of his mouth. The point of the blade no longer pressed so hard into the tender flesh of my neck.
“It seems to me,” he said, “that you are afraid of life. You are, aren’t you?”
He removed the blade and slid it back into the walking cane, screwing the top into place with a quick twist. My knees nearly gave way with relief, but I caught myself from slumping to the floor, and leaned against the pillar. I opened my mouth but didn’t know what to say. Why did he say that? What did he mean? Why didn’t he kill me?
Dr Moratu stepped back and folded his arms, his head cocked to one side. He chuckled. Then he spoke again.
“You are afraid of what you are, of what you are meant to become.” He looked me up and down as if assessing me. “You should not be afraid of power. It’s all very well ‘playing at humans’, but you will never be like them no matter how much you try. Did you know that any elder of the Dragon-born can initiate you, awaken your blood, and give you your power?” He shook his head. “No, I suppose they told you only your parents or your grandmother could do that?”
Now his eyes burned again with an inner fire. The effect was hypnotic, drawing me in. I began to relax.
“Well, they lied to you. Do you know why? Because they are as afraid as you are. The others, I mean. They didn’t protect Atlantis because they were weak, because they were arrogant, because they became complacent. And now they are even more afraid. They make claim to protect these humans, this world, but that’s only an excuse. Don’t you see that, Amelia? It’s a lie. A fabrication designed to hide a more terrible truth.”
“And what’s the truth?” I said, my voice little more than a breath.
“The truth is they have no power over the demons. They may have their Dragon blood awakened, but they have forgotten what it means, how to use it, and what for. We were once a great race. And we could be that race again.”
“By opening all the Gates? By letting the demonic powers flood into this realm? Do you really think you could control that? You’d be destroyed in the blink of an eye. Everything would.”
Dr Moratu shook his head, and lifted his arms, letting them fall again to his sides. He sighed. “No, no, no, no. I could not do it alone.”
He leaned in closer toward me. His breath smelled of heat and ruby port. “Do you think I want to kill you? Do you think I want to kill your grandmother? I do not, not really. I have tried for many years to unite us again, to get us to join forces. Together we could not only open the Gates, but control the demonic powers. We would become more powerful than we were even in the days of Atlantis. We could leave behind these restricting human bodies and return to Dragon form, not just once in a while at this moon or that one, but forever!”
He was so close to me now, I could see nothing but his eyes.
“Don’t tell me you wouldn’t want that? To be your true Dragon self without having to hide? A Dragon among Dragons. Wouldn’t that be better by far than being a Dragon hidden among sniveling humans? A life of pretence? Is that why you fear your power, Miss Stone? Is that why you’re afraid? You’re afraid to be your true self.”
“Let my grandmother go,” I said. I was confused. My heart ached. So much of what he said was true. I was afraid, and perhaps afraid of my heritage and my future, my destiny, more than anything else. But the dream of putting away all the pretenses, of coming into power, and letting that power show, to live truly in Dragon form! That dream blazed in my imagination like the morning star.
“Amelia.” Dr Moratu rested one hand on my arm and I felt instantly the crackling of energy passing between us. Power to power. Like to like. I looked up to his dark eyes. “Listen,” he said, his voice like velvet now. “I can initiate you.”
He ran his hand up my arm to rest his palm at the back of my neck. His body was close now. His heat, his inner fire, penetrated my skin, tingled down my spine. My legs were weak. My heart pounded. I saw fire in his eyes. But I wasn’t afraid anymore. The fire warmed me, consoled me. It was passion. Power and passion. Desire.
“You can feel it, can’t you, Amelia? Blood calling to blood, power to power. We were made for each other. Destined for each other from the beginning. You know we want the same thing, don’t you? You are mine.”
My eyes fluttered and then closed as his lips pressed against mine. A surge of energy filled me from my thighs to the top of my head. His hand gripped tighter around my neck, forcing my lips onto his.
He pulled away a moment, brushing his cheek against mine, his breath hot against my neck.
“We can be the first, Amelia. Together we can bring the others with us. Once they know it’s not just me. Once they see sense as you have done.”
“Yes,” I heard myself say, as if I was listening to the voice of a stranger. “Yes. The first…”
“Of course, some sacrifice will still have to be made. For the greater good.”
And suddenly I was afraid. Grandma’s voice shouted, “Amelia! Amelia!”
The spell was broken. The heat was gone. The flames of passion quenched as quickly as they’d been fanned into life. I snatched his wrist and yanked free from his grasp. I had a fraction of a second to act. I pulled back and did what I’d do to any creep who came on to me like that. My knee jerked up and crushed the tender parts between his legs before he had time to realize what had happened. He reacted like any other man.
“Lying bastard!” I shouted to his prone body, as he grabbed himself between the thighs and groaned, tears welling in his eyes. “You’re insane! We’ll never control the demonic powers, except to destroy them. And humans… humans have their faults, but they’re not like us. They’re a new People, a young race with a lot to learn. And it’s our job to help them. We can’t use evil to our own gain.”
For a moment, the light of the Dragon Moon glittered through the domed skylight above us, quickly shadowed by scudding black clouds and swirling smog rising from the Victorian streets. A hansom cab clattered by in the world outside; the human world; the world my People had sworn to protect.
“Amelia,” Grandma said. “Quickly! The keys are on his belt.”
I swung round, blowing hair out of my face. It had been fear rather than courage which had gi
ven me the strength to attack him. And that strength was waning already, giving way to doubt, while the fear stayed strong as ever.
Dr Moratu was already pulling himself back to his feet, overcoming the pain, his eyes fixed on me, a predator staring down his prey.
“Bitch,” he said, as he rose up to his full height. “You could have been mine. You could have shared my power. You just made a very bad choice, Amelia. A very bad choice. I shouldn’t have stopped at your parents. I should have taken you back then. But better late than never.”
My skin crawled, my fingers suddenly numb with cold. I stumbled, weak on my own legs. What did he just say?
“You abducted my parents? Where… where are they?”
Dr Moratu didn’t answer. While I was still in shock, he took the advantage. His hand shot out like a cobra, striking me. My cheek stung and the force of the blow knocked me backward. Tears stung my eyes. My head rang. My instinct was to run to Grandma for help, but Grandma had used the last of her strength to rescue me from Moratu’s spell, and now she hung limp again, her head lolling.
Suddenly, thick fingers gripped both my arms, and I was dragged to my feet. But it wasn’t Moratu holding me.
Two heavies in thick black coats, with scarred faces and dark, bloodshot eyes, their skin as pale as dead men, gripped me tight.
“Where the hell did you guys come from?”
I twisted and struggled, but there was no escape. They shoved me round roughly and dragged me away to the middle of the temple. Dr Moratu began to inscribe a pentagram on the floor. He looked anxiously toward the dome.
The moonlight showed intermittently through the glass. “The ritual must begin,” he said. “The sacrifice must be made at the precise moment the Dragon Moon reaches its zenith. Just a little after midnight.” He lifted a pocket watch from his waistcoat, glanced at it, flicked it closed and replaced it. “But there is still time.”
He continued with his preparations. For a moment I thought he’d forgotten about me. Then he spoke.
“Yes,” he said, without looking at me, returning his gaze to the night sky as if I was no longer any concern of his. “Indeed they are from hell. Criminal bodies from the graveyard. I reanimated them. An ugly but functional solution to the problem of where to acquire reliable henchmen.”
Dragon Moon: Lia Stone: Demon Hunter - Episode One (Dragon-born Guardians Series Book 1) Page 4