Blood in the Marsh

by Ciana Stone

  “What answers?”

  Alkharad reached inside his robe again and pulled a small jeweled flask. “First we must seal our bargain.”

  Opening the flask, he took a drink then handed it to Akmal. Akmal looked at it for a long moment then accepted it. Hesitantly he touched it to his lips, unsure as to what was inside.

  “Come, my young friend,” Alkharad encouraged him. “There is nothing in the drink to harm you. As you see, I myself have partaken of it. Believe me, Akmal, I would see no harm come to you. You are the man I have been searching for. Now, drink and know all the answers.”

  Akmal turned the flask up and let the liquid fill his mouth. It was warm and slightly thick, tasting both sweet and bitter at the same time. He swallowed and returned the flask to Alkharad.

  Alkharad smiled up at the young man. “Now we are ready to begin. Tell me, how do you feel?”

  Akmal tried to open his mouth to tell Alkharad that he felt unusually warm and as if his feet were not firmly planted on the ground. Fear gripped him in a tight vise as he realized he could not open his mouth. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he tried to make his body obey his commands, but no matter how much he tried he could not do so much as blink his eyes. His body was frozen in place as if made of stone.

  Alkharad smiled triumphantly and stepped back. “Yes, now we are ready.”

  He walked over to where Jamilla lay on the floor and rolled her over onto her back. Her eyes were wide and he could see the terror within their brown depths. He smiled as he pulled her robes up, baring her young nubile body.

  Akmal wanted to scream and rush to Jamilla but he could not make his body move. Horrified and sickened he watched as the old man parted his robe, displaying himself. Tears ran down Akmal’s face as he watched Alkharad spread Jamilla’s tender thighs and stab himself inside her.

  Alkharad watched the fear in the young girl’s eyes, feeling the rapid beat of her pulse roar in his ears. He lowered his face to her neck, rolling her head to one side.

  Akmal could see Jamilla’s eyes and knew that she was under the influence of whatever drug was in the drink the old man had given her. He prayed that the drug would also deaden any pain she felt. A silent scream echoed in his mind as he saw the old man pull a slender dagger from his robes and raise it above Jamilla’s breast.

  Blood gushed from the wound, drenching the old man and Jamilla. Alkharad groaned as if in ecstasy and leaned down to lap at the blood. He raised his head and placed his bloodied lips against hers.

  Akmal was sure his eyes were deceiving him for he thought he saw a bright flare of light pass from Jamilla to Alkharad. A moment later Alkharad withdrew his now withered erection from her and turned to face Akmal.

  Akmal felt a chill like the cold of the grave descend on him. A strange red glow began to light Alkharad’s skin.

  Something, a forgotten memory, pricked at Almal’s mind. Images swirled inside his head. Just as he thought the visions, he felt a hot air swirl around his ankles, working its way up his body like a whirlwind, searing his skin. His heart pounded in his chest and sweat poured from his body as his fear escalated. Alkharad looked up at him with the glowing eyes of a demon. Akmal prayed to be saved from whatever was about to come, but no god came to his rescue. Alkharad’s voice rolled like thunder in his mind, his incantation in a tongue Akmal did not know. The strange words made his soul cringe and his mind scream for help.

  Suddenly he felt a feeling lightness come over him, as if he were weightless. Amazed beyond belief he felt himself leave his body. One moment he was standing frozen like a living statue and the next he was looking down on himself. He saw his body standing in the middle of the circle, his robes whipping around him as if he was in the midst of a storm with his long hair wrapped around his head and neck like a black cloak. He could see the terror in his own eyes yet felt nothing.

  Then he felt a presence beside him. Turning his attention, he saw a spectral image. Nebulous and unformed, it hung just below the ceiling like a dark cloud. Without understanding how, Akmal recognized the image as the spirit of Alkharad.

  “I thank you, Akmal.” Alkharad’s voice sounded all around him. “Your gift is most generous.”

  Abruptly Akmal was back inside a physical form. He blinked several times, sure that his eyes were deceiving him, for his body was still standing in the center of the room. Blinking again, he realized he could move and lifted his hands to rub his eyes. As he raised his hands, his eyes widened and a scream erupted from his mouth.

  “I must be mad! This cannot be!”

  The body that had once been his turned and looked at him, laughing. “No, you are quite sane, my friend.”

  Akmal staggered and fell to the floor beside Jamilla’s torn and lifeless body. His heart was beating so fast he was sure it would explode and his breath was labored and ragged. He looked down at his hands, saw the spotted, wrinkled skin and gnarled veins, and closed his eyes. “This cannot be. It must be a dream. Such things are not possible!”

  Alkharad laughed and knelt down. “All things are possible, my old friend. Is that not what your religion has taught you?”

  Akmal felt a searing pain in his chest and gasped. “But how…why?”

  “I’m quite amazed that you don’t know.” Alkharad sat down and crossed his legs, delighted by the strength and agility of his new body. “But perhaps your memories have not returned, so I will explain. My body had grown old and weak. I was in need of a new one. I must say that I had almost given up hope of finding such a marvelous one as yours. It is fortunate that I left Syria when I did, is it not? For had I not left I might not have happened upon you like this. Now not only do I have your wonderful body but I am one step closer to gaining that which we all crave.”

  “I do…I do not understand.” Akmal wheezed, his breath becoming more labored and difficult.

  “Of course you do.”

  “No. I do not. Please, do not let me die this way.” Akmal fell back, his chest a white-hot mass of pain. “Why have you done this to me?”

  Alkharad stood and smiled down at the young spirit imprisoned within the form of the old man. “I have done nothing that we did not bargain for. Now, if you will excuse me, I will take my leave. This is a big world, Akmal. There is much I have yet to do.”

  Akmal tried to push himself up but the pain was too great. He reached out and touched the hem of Jamilla’s robe. “My beloved,” he gasped weakly. “If there is indeed a god let it be a god who understands vengeance and let him grant me this one wish. To avenge you and send Alkharad to whatever hell spawned him.”

  His body convulsed as he was seized by another pain. Sudden insight flooded his mind, providing knowledge more vast than he would have thought to seek. Before it could fully register in his mind, his body failed and he was no more.

  Lyra stopped and looked at Nick. For a few moments neither one of them said a word then she closed the diary and took a deep breath. “God, this isn’t what I expected at all. Lucius never talked about anything like this. This is…is too incredible to be real. And how does the story of Akmal and Alkharad tie in with the Benei Elohim. What’s he trying to say?”

  Nick shook his head and stood. “You’re supposed to be the expert on this kind of thing.”

  He walked across the room then turned and looked at her. She was staring down at the diary with a strange expression on her face. He returned and sat down beside her. “What are you thinking?”

  She didn’t answer. He touched her lightly on the arm. “Lyra?”

  “What?” she looked up suddenly.

  “You want to read the rest of the diary?”

  She almost said yes, but something stopped her. She did want to read the diary, every word of it. But she wanted to do it alone. Suddenly she was filled with certainty that no one should read the words but her. Particularly not Nick.

  “Not now. I think we’ve had enough for one night. How about we go watch a mindless movie and relax? We can start on the diary in the morning.”


  “But I think we should—”

  “Not tonight.” She gave him a strained smile. “Tomorrow.”

  “Okay, fine.”

  “Thanks. I’m going to run upstairs and take a quick shower and I’ll be back down in a few minutes.”

  She ran up the stairs as he went into the den. Once in her room she put the diary behind the massive headboard of the bed, then pulled out a soft cotton shift from her bag and ran into the bathroom. After showering and dressing she combed her hair, went back to the bedroom, and checked to make sure the diary was safely hidden.

  Satisfied that it was safe, she went downstairs to the den. She stopped as her eyes fell on Nick. He was lying on the couch. His shirt was unbuttoned and his feet were bare, one leg thrown over the sofa’s back

  “Where’s Michael and Chelsey?”

  “She talked him into taking her to get ice cream. They should be back in a few minutes. Come on over here.”

  Lyra hesitated, her eyes taking in his appearance. She saw the tight muscles of his abdomen and the curly black hair that swirled over his chest and thought to herself what a sexy body he had. She still couldn’t understand why she wasn’t overjoyed at the idea that she held his interest or why she seemed to have less trust in him with each passing day.

  “Come on,” he gestured to her.

  She took a seat on the couch beside him, curling up with her feet beneath her and reclining against the deeply padded throw pillow.

  For a little while, they watched the movie. Lyra was not prepared when he turned and took her in his arms to kiss her. She held back and he pulled away, searching her eyes.

  He tried again.. His lips moved to her neck then traveled to the hollow of her neck. When he moved lower toward her breast, panic rose and she pushed him away. Nick sucked in a deep breath as he sat and raked his hands through his hair.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.,.

  “It’s okay. Don’t apologize.” His voice didn’t match the words he spoke. It was clear he was annoyed. She started to get up but he caught her hand to stay her.

  “How about I fix us a big bowl of popcorn and we watch an old western?”

  Lyra forced a smile to her face. “Make that popcorn and an old Bogart movie and you’re on.”

  Nick grinned and got up, headed for the kitchen. Lyra sank back on the couch, cradling a throw pillow against her chest. She needed to figure out why her feelings were so mixed up about Nick, why she couldn’t relax around him, and why any sexual excitement he managed to provoke in her was so laced with fear.

  And she realized as an image of Michael came to mind, she really needed to figure out how she was going to stop herself from falling any harder for her best friend’s guy.

  Chapter Seven

  Sunday Morning—Sea Island

  Lyra stirred in her sleep, feeling the wind from the opened window cool her damp skin. She heard the sound of distant thunder and the sound of a voice calling her name. Blinking she looked around. The clock on the nightstand told her it was only three in the morning. Aside from the dim illumination cast from its glowing blue numerals, the room was dark. She pushed herself up and looked around.

  “Lyra.” The whisper sounded from the sitting area across the room.

  She peered into the darkness, at first seeing only more darkness. Then shapes began to swim into focus and she saw the silhouette of someone sitting on the settee.

  “Nick?”

  No sooner had she spoken, the figure shifted position and her breath caught in her throat. “Lucius?”

  “Lyra, you must read the diary. You must discover the truth. Do not delay for there are those who will try to take the truth from you. Those who will try to distort the truth. Trust me, Lyra, and do as I say.”

  Lyra hesitantly swung her legs over the edge of the bed, staring intently at the shadowy figure. “Lucius, is it really you?”

  The figure didn’t reply and she stood, taking one step toward it. It rose and she saw the outline and gasped. “It is you! But how? I thought you were dead. What are you doing here?”

  A soft sigh reached her ears. “Remember what I said.”

  Then the figure was gone. Lyra felt sweat run down her back and her hands felt clammy and wet. Her heart was beating double-time and she felt as she had when she was a little girl and had awakened from a bad dream. She wanted to scream so that someone would come turn on the lights and make her feel safe. But she was also curious. Taking one more look around the room she went back to the bed and felt behind the headboard. The diary was still there. She lay down with it clutched to her chest, thinking about what she and Nick had read earlier. Her eyes grew tired and she closed them, thinking that she would rest for a few minutes. The next thing she knew sunlight was streaming into the room.

  She sat up and looked at the window. It was closed and locked. A frown crossed her face. But it was open! I felt the wind and heard the thunder. She shook her head and went into the bathroom to shower. She had not opened the window before she went to bed, but she knew it had been opened during the night. She distinctly remembered hearing the thunder and feeling the wind.

  Could it have been just a dream? She stepped out of the shower and looked at her refection in the mirror. If it had been a dream, it was certainly the most lucid one she had ever experienced. And it had not felt like a dream; it had felt real. But there was no way Lucius could have been there. He was dead.

  She climbed back in bed and opened the diary. Reading quickly, she scanned the contents, making a mental note to go back over certain parts later. What she read both shocked and scared her. But it also excited her. This was the biggest thing that had ever happened. If she could get to the bottom of it, it would be like discovering the cure for cancer—in the parapsychology world.

  She made the bed and tucked the diary under her pillow once more then walked downstairs. The house was quiet and no one else was up yet. Going into the kitchen, she started coffee and poured a glass of juice. Sitting down at the table, she stared out of the kitchen window.

  Nick looked at his reflection in the rearview mirror. The rage danced in his eyes. It’s cause was simple: Lyra had once more pushed him away. Aside from claiming her to move closer to the ultimate prize, he found himself wanting her for more intimate reasons. When he closed his eyes, he could see images of her dancing in his mind. He didn’t know how long he could fight he desire he felt for her. And yet he could not take her by force.

  He pushed back the rage, forcing it under control. Satisfied that no vestiges remained in his eyes, he knocked on the back door. She opened it within moments.

  “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

  “I had the strangest dream.”

  “Really? So did I.”

  “Want some coffee?”

  “Sure, but I can get it.”

  She took a seat at the table. “What did you dream about?”

  “Lucius.”

  Lyra choked on her juice and grabbed a napkin to dab at her face. Nick turned from the counter with the coffeepot in his hand. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded and cleared her throat. “You dreamed about Lucius?”

  “Yeah, it was strange. I dreamed he was in my room and he told me to read the diary but to be sure and look for the meaning between the words.”

  Lyra shivered as if a cold wind had blown through the room. She shook her head then rubbed her temples and closed her eyes for a moment.

  “I did too. He—”

  An alarm went off in her mind, something that stopped the words from forming. She could not explain it but she knew that she could not tell Nick what Lucius had said to her in the dream. She had to keep it and everything about the diary to herself, until she knew what it all meant.

  “He told me not to take the diary too seriously and to remember all the tall tales he told me as a child.”

  Nick’s eyes narrowed for a moment and she looked away. She never had been a good liar. And even though she wasn’t proud of lying to Nick, she
knew she had to. Lucius was trying to tell her something and she had to pay attention. What little she had read in the diary let her know that she was delving into something beyond anything she had ever imagined to be real.

  Seeing the way Nick looked at her, she sought to cover her lies with partial truths. “What we read is beyond anything I’ve ever imagined. I don’t know if it can possibly be true or not, but I’m going to find out. And the first thing I have to do is go to North Carolina and get my computer and reference books from my apartment. Then I’ve got to go to the university and do some research.”

  “Okay, but if you’re going, I’m going with you. But before that, I think I’d like to read that diary for myself.”

  That was the one thing she did not want him to do. But he was staring at her, waiting for her to agree. After a moment she nodded. She saw no way to refuse without making it seem as if she didn’t trust him. Besides, from what she had read, the next few entries could be revealed without giving away anything of a personal nature.

  She had him wait in the hall while she retrieved the diary. Sitting side-by-side propped against the massive carved headboard, they spent the morning reading the entries.

  LuciusLuciusLuciusLuciusLuciusLucius’s diary took them on a bizarre and terrifying trek through history. From Lebanon, they traveled to Turkey, during the reign of the Seljuk Empire. There Alkharad’s first order of business was to obtain a new, young body. It took him almost a month before he found the right candidate. Locating a virgin was far less of a bother. Then it was only a matter of days before Alkharad became Ismail Bihzah.

  Using his vast intellect and considerable persuasive talents to deceive and control weaker minds, he set himself up in luxury, gathering around him a considerable following. Thanks to the bloodbath of the Crusades, which still waged, his followers had no difficulties in procuring victims to satisfy his needs and ensure his continued health and prosperity.