As an alternative, to fill my time, I focused on drawing what I could see from the villa windows – the streets and people of Tamekeel. After a few days without company, I'd filled the sketchpad with images – children floating small paper boats down the culverts; the flower seller who erected her stall each day on the street beneath the villa; two Queens Guards who stopped to chat on the corner. Whilst it filled my time, my mind continued to sift through the confusion, endlessly seeking answers to the many questions I had.
The one person I continued to see regularly was Doctor Bran, who followed the usual routine and arrived at the villa door four times a day, at precisely the same times, to administer my medication. Each time the routine was the same; questions regarding my mental health, whether I was experiencing visions, hearing strange voices.
Although I couldn't understand the necessity of Nissa's warning, I heeded it. I never mentioned the sketch I'd drawn, nor the voice I'd heard. Bran seemed satisfied with my responses, filling a tumbler with the precise measurement of medication and watching vigilantly to ensure I swallowed down every drop.
Archangelo strode into the villa very late that afternoon. He was filthy, his clothing covered in blood and grime, but he looked immensely pleased with himself. “Elf, leave.” He issued the order curtly and Nissa nodded, leaving with a tight smile in my direction.
“Archangelo, is everything all right?” I inquired, pushing myself up from the couch where I'd been settled reading. I surveyed him with some alarm, wondering if any of the blood was his own. As a vampire and human hybrid, he bled as easily as I did. “Are you hurt?”
He grinned wildly, seeming almost manic in his excitement. “I'm fine. This is the blood of our enemies, my Angel.” He captured my wrist, pulling me into his arms before he dropped his mouth to mine, kissing me deeply. I could taste blood on his tongue, and struggled not to lose the contents of my stomach. When he released my lips, his eyes were intense, bordering on crazed as he gazed down at me. “Zaen has fallen. The renegades are on the run and we'll soon be savoring victory.” He caught my hand, dragging me towards the bedroom. “Come, my Angel. I feel like celebrating and what better way than to make love to my beautiful wife?”
I blushed furiously, tugging against his hand. “Archangelo, you're filthy… perhaps a bath—”
Archangelo's expression changed instantly, his eyes narrowing. “Do you not want to make love to your victorious husband, Angel?”
I shook my head minutely, my eyes downcast. “No, it's not that… just… you're covered in blood—”
Archangelo pulled me up against him, rubbing his groin against my stomach suggestively. “Don't try and deny me, Angel. This blood? It's the blood of my enemies and you should relish in it, want to bathe in it as I did when Zaen fell. I worked hard for this victory and I'm going to enjoy the spoils of that victory with you. You're going to do exactly as I tell you – when I tell you. Do you understand?”
He was frightening me and I pushed against his chest ineffectively, trying to escape. “But—”
“There is no but!” With superhuman speed, he lifted me into his arms and ran into the bedroom. Rage was visible in his face in the split-second before he threw me onto the bed. My skull connected with the elegantly carved headboard and a burst of intense light exploded painfully behind my eyes.
Archangelo knelt on the bed, clutching my jaw between his fingers. “Don't argue with me, Angel,” he hissed against my cheek. “You'll be ready to provide me with pleasure whenever I want you, at any hour of the day or night.” He unsheathed a knife at his waist and used to it slash away my gown, leaving me shivering in fear. “You are my wife. I own you. Do I make myself clear?”
Tears filled my eyes and I nodded timidly.
He tore off his own shirt, and I swallowed back bile when I saw the blood had soaked through his clothes; his skin was coated with it. The prospect of lying with him, when he was covered in someone else's blood – some poor soul who had died a torturous death by Archangelo's hand – it was inconceivable and I made a feeble attempt at escape.
“Where do you think you're going, my Angel?” With a leer, Archangelo threw me back down onto the bed and tore away my chemise and underwear, leaving me naked before his heated gaze. “You will do what I want, Angel. Whenever I want it.” He shrugged off his jeans and crawled across the bed towards me with a snarl, reminding me eerily of a carnivore stalking his prey.
Hours passed before Archangelo had sated his desires and disappeared into the bathing room. I lay against the pillows, silent tears trickling down my cheeks. I was aching all over after Archangelo's assault, horrified by what he'd demanded of me.
Clutching my arm, I stared blankly at the deep wound in my wrist. No longer content to cut a small gash in my skin with his blade, Archangelo had bitten me in the throes of passion, drinking from my vein until I'd suspected I would die. The act had both repulsed and terrified me. He'd given no countenance to my horror, laughing at the entreaties I'd made to him, begging him to stop.
I didn't know who this monster was, but I was appalled to think I was tied to him for the rest of my life.
≈†◊◊†◊◊†◊◊†≈
Archangelo made a hasty departure two days later, riding towards Sarbon with a large contingent of the Queen's Guard. The renegades had been sighted on the outskirts of the city and he insisted on setting out immediately in hopes of capturing them.
I was relieved. I wanted him gone. In the past forty-eight hours, he'd bordered on psychotic, making demands I couldn't stomach. I was grateful Nissa had been dismissed while he was at the villa because I would be mortified if she knew of his abuse.
Slipping painfully from the bed after his abrupt departure, I ran a hot bath. I was desperate to wash, needed to rid myself of the sensation and scents of Archangelo's body abusing mine. It was earlier than I would normally wake and it would be at least half an hour before Nissa arrived. I didn't want her to know what he'd done. There would be no keeping it from her – the bruises and marks were too extensive to hide – but I hoped to disguise the worst of it before she could discover what had happened.
I scrubbed vigorously with the sea sponges, crying a copious number of tears. I was devastated; in pain, alone and terrified. Was this what I had to endure for the rest of my life?
The warning signs had been there from the beginning, from the first time Archangelo had come to my bed after I'd woken up. He'd grown increasingly violent and sadistic as the weeks had passed. Again, the same question crossed my mind – why had I agreed to bond with him? I couldn't believe I'd fallen in love with someone like him. I was convinced I didn't love him.
“Angel? Where are you?” Nissa called, knocking on the bathing room door. “Are you in there?”
“Yes, I'm taking a bath,” I replied softly.
“I would have prepared it for you, why are you up so early this—” Nissa pushed open the door and stopped abruptly, staring at my broken and bruised skin in undisguised dismay. “What happened?”
I lowered my gaze, filled with shame. “It's nothing.”
Nissa perched on the edge of the bathtub. “This isn't nothing!” She rubbed a finger tenderly over a bruise on my cheek. Her horrified gaze traced the mass of injuries across my skin, surveying the deep bruising Archangelo had left on my breasts with his fingers. “He did this to you?” She was aghast, even more so when she caught sight of my wrist. Archangelo had bitten deeply and sucked heavily, creating a florid purple bruise. “He drank your blood?” she demanded angrily.
I nodded, too humiliated and too tired to hide my secrets any longer. “I don't understand why he did it, Nissa. He isn't supposed to drink human blood.” I looked up into her eyes and saw intense fury burning in the orange irises. “He frightened me. I don't know what I should do.”
Nissa captured my arm and gently helped me up from the bath, draping me in a towel. “Let's get you dressed and I'll have a maid change the linens on the bed. I want you to lie down and rest.”
I cringed, knowing the bed was disgusting, the sheets filthy with dirt and bloodstains and other things. “I'm so sorry, Nissa.”
“Never you mind, none of this is your fault,” Nissa said soothingly. “Where is he now?”
“He left for Sarbon,” I responded listlessly, allowing her to lead me back into the bedroom. “There are reports of renegades, he's taken a group of the Queen's Guard to capture them.”
A brief flicker of excitement flared in Nissa's eyes, but she banked it down instantly and I thought no more of it as she helped me dress. Settling me in the ornate armchair beside the bed, she hurried away to find a maid. “You rest there; I'll have the bed ready for you in just a moment.”
The maid appeared and changed the linens, her movements quick and efficient. If the state of the bed disgusted her, she kept politely silent about it. Once I was settled, Nissa busied herself organizing for breakfast to be sent up, then sat by my side, rubbing her fingers soothingly across my arm.
“I'm frightened of him, Nissa,” I whispered, unable to stop the tremors which rippled through my body unbidden.
“Do you trust me?” Nissa questioned softly.
I glanced up, surprised she would have to ask. “Of course.”
Nissa's expression was determined when she glanced down at me. “I'm going to help you, Angel. I give you my word.” She said no more, only rubbing my arm affectionately until I drifted into an uneasy sleep.
It seemed as if hours had passed when strange sounds began to drift into my consciousness, drawing me from an exhausted slumber. I couldn't relate them to the normal sounds of Tamekeel and sat up, rubbing my eyes sleepily.
Nissa stood by the window, watching the gardens vigilantly. No longer wearing her usual attire of a simple gown and apron, in its place, she wore the warrior's garb of leather tunic and trousers. “Nissa, what's wrong? Have we been attacked?”
Nissa's eyes were bright with anticipation when she turned and I noticed she had her dagger gripped in her hand, which only served to alarm me further. “Get dressed, Angel. I'll be only a few minutes. I promise I'll make sure you're safe.” She ran to the door, slipping out and shutting it firmly behind her.
Ripping back the covers, I wondered what was happening. Were the renegades in Tamekeel? What had happened in Sarbon?
Sounds of screaming reached my ears, emanating from close to the villa. Slipping down onto the floor, I dressed hastily and hurried over to the balcony in the sitting room. Some of the buildings were on fire, thick black smoke wafting into the blue skies overhead. Members of the Queen's Guard were running in many different directions, shouting orders and information to one another. With a clattering of hooves across the cobblestones, I saw the Queen's personal carriage race through the street, the horses' nostrils flaring with excitement as they galloped towards the outskirts of the city, the carriage heavily guarded.
Nissa reappeared carrying a rucksack and I clutched her arm, seeking reassurance. “What's happening?” I demanded shakily.
“The Queen is being taken to safety,” Nissa replied.
“What about us? What should we do?”
“We're leaving.” She gently unclasped my fingers from her arm and caught hold of my hand. When she glanced down at me, her eyes were filled with exhilaration. “Do you think you could climb down the trellis if I help you?”
I stared at her in confusion. “Why? Can't we go down the stairs?”
Nissa squeezed my fingers. “I won't let you get hurt, Angel, but you must trust me. This is the way we have to leave.”
For a long moment, I stared wide-eyed at her, then nodded. “All right.”
“Good girl.”
Nissa stepped towards the balcony, but I hesitated. “Wait! I have to get something.”
“Hurry, Angel.”
I ran back into the bedroom, wrenching open a drawer in the bureau, ignoring the crash as the drawer fell to the floor. I reached deep inside the recess, feeling across the top of the wood until I found the ring, taped securely in place. Removing the tape, I slipped the ring onto my finger and joined Nissa on the balcony.
She tucked her knife into the belt at her waist and lifted her leg over the balcony ledge. “I'll go in front of you and I want you to follow me, exactly the way I go.”
My legs shook as I climbed down the trellis, clinging desperately to the wood and following Nissa's whispered directions cautiously. Immensely thankful when I reached the ground, I savored the sensation of the cool grass beneath my bare feet.
Nissa took my hand, urging me to run and we stumbled through the gardens towards the stables. Nissa slipped inside, returning seconds later with two horses, their reins held loosely in her grasp. She helped me up into the saddle on the gray mare, before pulling herself up onto a black gelding.
“You! What are you doing?”
My horse shied at the harsh voice and Nissa turned to the man, one of the Queen's Guards. His gaze slipped from Nissa to me, his eyes filling with recognition, which quickly morphed into anger. “Nissa, what are you doing with the girl? We have strict orders to keep her inside the villa.”
“Look around, Grindle! The renegades are attacking Tamekeel. Do you want to face Archangelo's wrath if the girl is captured? I'm taking her into the mountains until this is over.”
Grindle was short and heavyset, and his plump face grew ponderous as he considered Nissa's words. “The girl must stay here,” he finally announced. “We have our orders.”
Nissa grabbed the reins on my mare, taking control of my mount as she swung her leg towards the heavyset fairy. “You're a fool, Grindle.” Her booted foot connected with the stocky man's chin, knocking him backward. With a nudge of her heels on the black gelding's flank, we set off at a gallop down the narrow path and into the street.
Hanging on grimly, I squeezed my eyes shut as we raced through the cobbled streets. My riding skills were rudimentary at best, but the mare seemed aware of my apprehension and ran straight and true, barely causing a jostle in the saddle.
We reached the outskirts of Tamekeel and Nissa slowed, handing the reins back to me.
“Where are we going?” I demanded.
Nissa motioned towards the soaring mountains behind the city. “Up there.”
Chapter 6: Betrayed
Kneeling beside Nissa on the damp ground, my knees and ankles ached mercilessly as we continued to wait, our position hidden by thick undergrowth and trees.
We'd ridden through the mountains until the sun was lowering on the horizon, the golden orb disappearing as we delved deeper into the inhospitable forests high on the mountainside. There were no visible paths to follow, no discernible means of finding a way through the thickly-wooded peaks and dales of the steep slopes, yet Nissa had ridden with purpose, seemingly aware of exactly where she was headed.
In a shadowy, darkened area deep within the mountain range, Nissa dismounted and carefully helped me down from the mare. Exhaustion and fear were taking a heavy toll on my body; on top of the beating and physical assaults I'd suffered at Archangelo's hand, muscles unused to horseback ached and skin chafed. Nissa had released the horses, leaving them to graze freely and drawn me into this fern-lined grotto, begging me in a hushed voice to stay quiet.
Nissa was tense and anxious, blade gripped in preparation for trouble and resting against her thigh. It seemed as if we'd been crouched here for hours, although I was certain it couldn't have been that long because the shadowy light around us hadn't decreased.
Clinging desperately to Nissa's free hand, I worried endlessly about the events in Sarbon and Tamekeel. Would the renegades search for us here in the mountain? The prospect of being tortured again filled me with terror, panicked me enough to make me feel faint. I was following Nissa's instructions to remain silent and hardly dared draw breath, in case we were discovered.
A baritone voice, confident and calm, penetrated the silence. “Nissa of Skardling? Show yourself, if you are present.”
Nissa returned his greeting f
ormally, hesitating for only a second. “Goren of Blamen?”
“Indeed,” came the instant response.
Nissa seemed satisfied with his brief reply and slowly straightened, revealing herself among the tree trunks and larger ferns.
“Do you have Nememiah's Child in your care?” the man asked. There was a breathless quality to his voice, as if he desperately wanted to hear an affirmative reply to the question.
Nissa tugged on my hand. “Come, Angel,” she said quietly.
I let her help me up onto my feet, stumbling on legs which had grown heavier and achier as the minutes wore on. I stilled when I caught sight of a small group of men standing a few feet away. Recognizing none of them, I looked to Nissa wordlessly for support.
Nissa squeezed my fingers. “Angel, these people are your friends.”
Shaking my head, I took a step back in confusion. “No. I don't know them.”
“Sugar?” One man stepped forward from the group and I recognized his face. Exceptionally tall and broad-shouldered, this was the man I'd drawn, the sketch Nissa had insisted on destroying. It seemed improbable but he was more breathtakingly handsome in the flesh. His eyes smoldered with some unspoken emotion when he stared at me.
Nissa attempted to draw me closer to the group of men. “Angel, this is Conal Tremaine.”
I recognized the name instantly. “Conal Tremaine?” I whispered, horrified. “The renegade?”
His expression hardened for the briefest instant before he schooled his features back into calmness. “Charlotte… we won't hurt you,” he vowed huskily, reaching out to me.
Yanking against Nissa's grip, I desperately tried to escape. “I don't know anyone called Charlotte!” I shrieked wildly.
“Angel, please, you must listen to me,” Nissa pleaded.
“No, no!” I stared at her in disbelief, my eyes filling with tears. “You've betrayed me! You've betrayed us!”
Nissa shook her head, still maintaining her hold on my struggling form. “No, my Angel. I'm saving you.”
Knowledge Protects (The Nememiah Chronicles Book 5) Page 4