by E. Van Lowe
Chapter Thirty-Four
It took several minutes to explain to her the trade I’d made to save Alan’s life. As I spoke, her eyes clouded with concern.
“I told you to beware of my mother, Joshua. Remember me telling you she was the real creature?”
“Yes! So?”
“My mother would not trade your servitude for my happiness. I’m sure she loves me in her own way, but she would never make that trade.”
“Well… she did.”
“Tell me exactly what you said. Did you say I will do anything?”
“No. I agreed to be with you. That was the trade, to be with you for Alan’s life.”
“Did you say I will be your slave?”
“No, of course not. I did say I’m yours.”
“Oh, Joshua,” she said, her face falling to pieces.
The tolling bell stopped, and now I heard new sounds. The house seemed to be waking up. Happy voices could be heard gathering downstairs.
“But I meant I was hers because she wanted me to be with you. She knows that.”
Lara was shaking her head rapidly back and forth. “You’ve given her your servitude, and now Petros is free, free to be her lover. It’s what she’s hoped for all along, to finally have him back.”
“But that’s not what I meant, and she knows it.”
“I know. You were being sweet, and kind, and generous. And now you are her slave.”
“Uh-uh!” I said. “No way!” I said. “She’s not getting away with this.”
I rose from the bed and stormed from the room. Once in the corridor, the voices came to me more clearly, the joyful chatter of young girls.
I moved down the sweeping staircase, taking the steps two at a time, heading toward the sound of the voices. With each step I could feel my anger rising as my pulse throbbed in my ears.
I was practically seeing red as I entered the grand corridor. A harpsichord began to play. It was the song that had once played in my head, the song that had brought Lara and me together. I knew it well. The siren’s song.
I continued down the corridor toward the sound of the music, my pace, along with my heartbeat, quickening. I entered a grand ballroom, and stopped in the doorway. I had walked in on a celebration.
A satyr I didn’t recognize was playing the harpsichord in the corner, while beautiful water nymphs flocked toward the center of the ballroom floor. They were cheering and chanting good wishes. When they spotted me, they began to applaud.
“That’s him. That’s Josh.”
I started working my way through the crowd toward the open space on the dance floor, certain I would find who I was looking for there. I pushed past the last water nymph, and stepped out onto the open floor.
Eudora was dancing in the arms of the satyr, Petros, who was now dressed in tails. Eudora was also elegantly dressed in a beautiful ice blue fifties-styled gown. When she saw me, she stopped dancing, and smiled.
“Look, everyone. The newest member of our little family has arrived.”
The music stopped. The applause grew louder.
“You tricked me!” I cried out. I stepped toward her, and Petros, moved in front of her. He flashed his eyes, stopping me.
“I agreed to be with Lara. That was my deal,” I called, trying to peer around him.
Eudora eyed me with a smug, self-satisfied smirk. “That was not our deal. Our deal is that you are mine. Your exact words: I’m yours. I accepted your words, and upon that acceptance, I saved your friend’s life.”
“You knew what I meant,” I bellowed.
Petros took a menacing step toward me.
“It’s all right, dear,” Eudora said. She placed a hand on his shoulder, calming him. He nodded, and seemed to relax. “Once you’re here with us, you will get to see Lara every day. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? And Josh, your father’s business will flourish. I will see to it. Your family will become rich.”
“That’s not what I meant!” I screeched.
“Josh!” she said, her voice scolding. “It’s time you stopped behaving like a child. Look at the bright side. Everyone gets what they want. You get to see Lara every day, your family becomes rich and successful, and I finally get my Petros back.” She moved into the satyr’s arms. “I’ve waited so long,” she said, and kissed his cheek. She looked at me. “The change will be complete in Seventy-two hours. You will have wanted to say your goodbyes to your family before then. Music!” she cried out.
“Are you telling me I can’t ever see my family ever again?”
“Of course you can see them. This is not a prison. But I’m sure you will want to see them when a Nereid is present to charm them into seeing you as you are today. You don’t want them to see you as a satyr, do you?”
“I’m not going to do it.”
“It’s already done. Now, stop being a selfish child, and grow up. You have three days.” We stared at one another. “Oh, look at me, ruining such a festive occasion.” She faced the crowd. “A new day for the Nereid has arrived. We are entering our glory days. Everyone, rejoice.” She waved a hand, and the music started up again.
Eudora and Petros danced. She rested her head on the satyr’s shoulder, and he whispered gently into her ear.
“You won’t get away with this,” I called. She didn’t hear me. I was drowned out by the rising shouts and well wishes.
Someone tapped me on the shoulder.
I wheeled around. Asia was standing behind me. She smiled kindly, and took me by the hand, gently leading me back through the crowd. “It’s not what you think it is. You’ll see,” she said.
“Will I be a satyr slave at Eudora’s beck-and-call?” I asked.
She didn’t answer for a long time. We cleared the crowd, exited the room and moved into the grand hall.
“Yes,” she finally said. “But—”
“Then it’s exactly what I think it is.”
Lara was facing away from me when I entered the room. She was looking out the window, gazing at the sun coming up over the enchanted hot spring below.
“Are you her slave?” she asked without turning around. Her words seemed trapped in her chest.
“Yes,” I replied, dry-mouthed.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “She’s a monster.”
I couldn’t disagree.
“It’s… uhh… It’s okay. At least I’ll be with you. Kind of,” I said, searching for words to reassure her.
“You are so, so brave.”
She finally turned and faced me. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. “I wished they’d never saved me.”
“Don’t say that.” I moved across the room. “Don’t ever say that. I’m glad they saved you. I couldn’t live without you.” I was about to take her in my arms when I noticed she was clutching a slender, crystal dagger in her hands. “What’s that?”
She peered down at the dagger as if seeing it for the first time. The hilt was carved into the form of a serpent. The entire knife made of crystal. It was beautiful.
“Do you trust me?” she asked, her voice coming as if from a dream.
“Yes, yes, of course I do. But let’s not go all Romeo and Juliet.”
She looked into my eyes, and smiled through her tears.
“Don’t be silly. I think there’s a way,” she said, “to reverse the curse, but you’re going to have to trust me.”
“I do. I trust you with my life.”
“Good, because I’m going to kill you.”
With those words she plunged the crystal dagger into my chest. She braced herself before the thrust, and when she lunged forward, it was ferocious and powerful. She was stronger than I ever imagined, and the force of the blow knocked me backwards, as the knife plunged through skin and sinew.
“What the…”
My eyes gaped to the size half dollars. I felt a sudden chill as if someone had thrust me into a deep freeze. I was colder than I’d ever been in my entire life.
I realized then, the crystal dagger sticking out of
my chest was carved out of ice. I peered down at it in wonder as frozen pain radiated from my chest, down into my belly, and up toward my head.
“What… did… you… do?” The words rattled from my lips. As I spoke, I realized my teeth were chattering, my lips were covering with frost.
“I’m… so sorry,” she said.
Her chest heaved in huge, remorseful sobs. Her eyes had become red rivers of pain. In truth, she wasn’t crying. She was wailing noisily as silver strings of spittle drooled from her lips. I was reminded of my mother at my grandmother’s funeral.
I again peered down at my chest. A stain created by the thawing water from the blade was now coving my dress shirt with a deep reddish/pink blot.
I was getting sleepy.
I collapsed to my knees, and realized I could no longer feel my legs.
“I love you,” Lara whispered through her sobs.
I didn’t respond. I didn’t try to respond. I was too busy staring at my chest, watching the blood and water stain expand on my shirt, watching my life drain away.
I was days from my sixteenth birthday, and as my body grew colder, and my thoughts began to drift toward oblivion, I realized I wasn’t going to make it. Fifteen and seven eights was as far as I would go.
I definitely did not see that one coming.
***
You always hurt the one you love
Lara Applegate didn’t just hurt her one true love, she killed him. Has Josh and Lara’s journey come to an end?
Read Frostfellows, Book Two of The Beautiful Creatures of Beverly Hills, available at most online retailers.
Thanks for reading, Moondancers, the first book in a new series. Why not take a moment now to write a review while the story is still fresh in your mind. You can post your reviews on iTunes, B&N, Goodreads.
The End
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