Beneath the Shadows of Evil... Treasured

by Jolynn Raymond

  “Lucian, I wish to know where we are going and what it is I will be dealing with when I get there.”

  “It is in the east wing up on the stairs to the servants chambers. A girl.” It had been a long time since the treason of Hannah, but Mikhal had never forgotten how close she had come to harming both Alliana and Natalya.

  “Has there been some plot? By a human?” The disbelief was clear in his voice but still it held a note of apprehension.”

  “No, my Lord. Nothing of the sort, she has been violated and slaughtered. Practically torn to pieces.”

  “Lucian, though I have forbidden the minions to be so brutal, especially under this roof, I cannot see how the situation demands me to leave my wife during a much needed conversation.”

  “It wasn’t a minion, my Lord. It was the young master.”

  At his words Mikhal stopped dead in his tracks. Mikhalen? Mikhalen had released his beast and ravaged a girl? No, more than ravaged her, brutally killed her?

  “Are you certain it was my son?”

  “Yes, Sire. I had just risen and was going to the kitchen to feed when I heard the screams. I followed the cries and came upon him in his carnage. I’m afraid he showed no mercy. She... well she suffered greatly. Mikhalen was in his vampire state, raping the girl as he clawed her to pieces, feeding from her as he rutted. I shouted at him to stop but he was too far-gone. There was no stopping. I thought it best not to make him stop by force. It was too late for the girl anyway. She fell silent soon after I arrived. He drained her dry. The clawing and rutting continued until his beast was satisfied, and then he stood and faced me unashamed. There was a challenge in his eyes Sire, not remorse.”

  They had arrived in the kitchen as Lucian told his tale and Mikhal strode to the set of steep steps. There on the first landing was a maid, brutalized just as Lucian had said. The bleeding had stopped from her wounds as soon as Mikhalen had been done feeding, but there was enough of it to make clear how very savage his son had been.

  “Where did he go?”

  “I don’t know. I thought it best to get you rather than follow the boy. Twas very troublesome, Sire. You know Mikhalen is dear to me. I know he has struggled with his beast but this... It is clear his demon finally won out. Natalya and...”

  “Keep this to yourself. Natalya and my wife are not to be told. In time yes, Alliana will have to know of Mikhalen’s struggles, but not yet. Let me find him and talk to him. There has to be something that can be done to appease both boy and demon that won’t break his mother’s heart.”

  “As you wish, my Lord. Would you like for me to help you search?”

  “No. Even though there could be trouble I must handle him myself. His beast has been unleashed and Mikhalen very well may have to fight the battle of his life to regain control. Keep your eyes open. Have Natalya and their maids join Alliana. They shall be curious and most likely demanding in their quest for information, but you are to remain silent.”

  “Understood.”

  “I am not having you gather them for their safety, but to keep them from unpleasantries. Mikhalen would never harm his mother or Natalya.”

  “I know that my Lord. He is a good boy.”

  Mikhal nodded as a knot of pain tightened around his heart. “Yes he is. Troubled, but good. I will call you if needed Lucian. Have someone bury the girl and clean up the mess. Tell the kitchen maids their wagging tongues had better be silent.”

  “Yes, my Lord. At once.”

  Lucian went up the stairs to gather the body of the girl as Mikhal turned and went back through the now empty kitchen. Evening was normally a busy time, but all had fled in the face of the young master’s assault. Would Mikhalen be in his room? Darkness had settled. The boy could be anywhere. He was old enough to have the run of the castle and grounds. Would he be remorseful in the presence of his father, or would Mikhal have to set his own beast free in order to bring Mikhalen back from the clutches of his demon? Time would tell.

  Mikhal tilted his head up as his demon facade overcame him, scenting for his son, reaching out through their blood tie and using his senses until he found what he sought. Turning, he strode away, mind focused on only one thing, finding Mikhalen and taming the beast that had taken control.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  He followed the corridor that led from the kitchen and when it came to a T assumed he’d turn and continue to his son’s chamber but the fresh scent led him the other way. Mind turned inward, focused only on Mikhalen, oblivious of any he passed. Mikhal followed on until the trail brought him to the bottom of the steps that led to the playroom.

  He paused, Mikhalen hadn’t been up there in years, or so he thought. He’d long ago cast aside the toys of childhood, but regardless of that, Mikhal’s nose and intuition told him that yes indeed, the boy was above, or had been very recently. He mounted the steps slowly, silent on his feet, though his intent wasn’t to startle his son, he simply wished to see him in an unguarded state.

  Stopping on the landing he could see the large room before him, his vampire sight clear in the dimness. No light was needed, for neither he nor Mikhalen. The sight that met his eyes was at once troubling. Furniture and toys were scattered and broken. Katia’s old dolls, which had been lined up on a shelf, smashed to bits. The rocking horse was kindling, as was any furniture the room held. It was obvious that Mikhalen had been in a state of fury and that rage had been spent on the contents of the room. The question was, had he done the destruction that day, or had it been done before in an attempt to still the beast that had risen up and taken control in the kitchen earlier?

  Peering through the jumble, looking for Mikhalen, Mikhal didn’t have to search long. Just as his eyes settled on the boy, Mikhalen let out an inhumane shriek alerting his father at once that the demon was still in control.

  “Mikhalen.” Mikhal said his son’s name softly and without malice, looking him over, noting the blood left from the kitchen wench, the fire that still lit his amber eyes, the pink tinged spittle upon his son’s chin, and the twisted expression of rage upon his face.

  Mikhalen responded with a snarl, not moving, his eyes staring at his father, assessing him but not quite challenging him. True the beast was in control but still the boy remained inside, and the man before him was his father. The man he loved dearly. As Mikhal moved closer Mikhalen cried out again, but the shriek had lost most of its rage and instead spoke of anguish.

  “It will be alright Mikhalen. Can you calm yourself? Your beast has been fed and has had its share of violence and lust. It should be easier to control.”

  Mikhal shook his head wildly, his beast not liking his father’s words, but he did as he was asked. Hands curled into fists, his talons cutting deep grooves in his palms as he fought his inner battle, until finally his human facade returned. Now his eyes were blue once again as he stared at his father, but they held pain and a hint of rage as well. Mikhalen the boy was as deeply troubled, as Mikhalen the beast had been furious.

  Mikhal squatted down before him, touching his son’s face even as the boy turned defiant. Rage was a much easier emotion to handle than pain. “Leave me be. I did what my kind must do. What you wish you could still do. It’s natural. They are but cattle.”

  Mikhal drew in an unneeded breath and moved to sit beside his son, choosing his words wisely. This wasn’t the time to condemn the boy’s loss of control, and yet he had to attempt to make him see the wrongness of his ways.

  “True, it’s what our kind has done for centuries and yes, I feed, but never like that any longer. It would upset your mother. I understand that you struggle to control the wildness inside you, Mikhalen, but I must insist that you refrain from such slaughter. Is your maman but cattle as well? When you commit violence and terror against her kind, you are hurting the very people of whom you are connected. You are half human Mikhalen, half cattle.”

  Mikhalen turned to his father hissing, eyes flashing though remaining blue. “I love my mother but I feel no ties to my human half. It is w
eak; they are weak. I have struggled for control, father, truly I have. Do you not see that it is impossible? Night after night I dream of mayhem, terror and blood, night after night I feast in my dreams as my demon rejoices and I am free. It is the only time I have peace. There is no happiness in my waking world, none until today anyway. Killing that woman, taking her and tearing her apart, the terror making her blood so much sweeter than when I kindly drain them, it finally satisfied my beast. I cannot go back. It is what my demon demands.”

  “You must go back, Mikhalen. You cannot become a thing that commits acts of terror.”

  “As you were? As my aunt once was? You lived as you pleased for a hundred years. You found satisfaction; you allowed yourself freedom for so long. It may have been hard for you to change, but you had the spell to help you. I feel emotions father, love for maman and you, for Natalya, but I feel nothing for the others but contempt. Do not ask me to be something I cannot be.”

  “I will ask you, Mikhalen, for your mother. You are of her. Look within yourself and find the strength.”

  “She bore me but I am not of her. There is no true human in me. I am a thing that wasn’t supposed to be. I was conjured through magick. Yes, she carried me, she bore me, but I am not of her. I’m not and I can’t continue to deny what I am.”

  Such strong words from his son conveyed the not only the torment Mikhalen was feeling as his body matured, but his hopelessness as well.

  “Mikhalen,” Mikhal was in a quandary as he looked at his child. The boy was right, he was made from magick, but he had his mother’s blood inside him, his heartbeat, albeit slowly, he breathed, but he was also cold to the touch and could not endure the sunlight. He was a mix it was true, but the beast inside was stronger than the young man who had been raised with love. He spoke his son’s name again, and the boy looked at him with eyes that pleaded for understanding, hazed with the simmering rage that lay just beneath the surface.

  “Mikhalen, you must...”

  Mikhalen rose and kicked a doll that lay near his foot sending it sailing through the air. “NO! Do you hear me father? No. I cannot do as you ask, for you, for mother, for anyone. I can’t. What of the others? I know of those who go and satisfy their beasts. They rape and terrorize, they feed in the way we were meant to feed. What of them father? You cannot tell me that all of us, all of our kind, conform to your merciful ways. What of those who do, as they need to? What of the others who exist in this world? Our kind must be everywhere. I am a man grown, and the world is a big place. My absence from her life would be less painful for maman than the knowledge of my evil deeds. ”

  Of course Mikhal knew of the minions who went far and wide, out of his realm of power to do as the demon inside them required. He knew it and tolerated it because in was done in such a way that it never touched Alliana. It was commonplace for bands of men to leave the castle and travel to the outer regions of Hungary or over the borders to gather knowledge of the happenings beyond his small part of the world. It was imperative that he be kept abreast of anything that could threaten his family, and gave the minions leave to behave as the evil creatures they were. As for his child living apart from him, driven away because he wouldn’t be accepted if he chose to live as his demon demanded, that was a thought Mikhal could barely think about. It wouldn’t just be the boy’s mother who felt pain over the loss of their son.

  “Mikhalen you cannot leave us. It would break our hearts.”

  “Then let me ride with the next group of minions who go out. If I am allowed this freedom I will be able to keep my sanity and also help keep maman and Natalya safe. I will be doing my duty to protect my family while giving in to the monster who will not be quieted.”

  There was a constant threat of invaders from other countries. The world was an unstable place, and though he ruled his domain with an iron fist, even he couldn’t keep all the evils of the world from their doorstep. It was imperative to know of any threats, and it provided the minions who couldn’t be satisfied with the gentle ways of feeding, a chance to fulfill their demon’s needs.

  The world was always in strife, the Ottoman Empire was constantly pushing at their borders. The Turks were a fierce enemy and were a presence to be watchful of. Kings lived and died, empires rose and fell, and war was the way of things. It was always a time of discord. Safety was a thing one had to ensure, not something that could be taken for granted, and Mikhal knew it best to keep an eye on the happenings around him. If the men committed heinous deeds off his land holdings, it strengthened the knowledge of his own power among those who resided afar while it also satisfied the minion’s base needs, and kept the terror from the walls of his home and lands.

  His father’s silence told Mikhalen he was considering the idea so he pushed harder. It was the only way he would be free.

  “Let me go with them.”

  “Mikhalen, you are too young.” He rose so he was standing eye to eye with his son, his son who was almost as tall as he was and growing all the time. Truth be told he was no longer a boy, but he always would be in Mikhal’s eyes.

  “Father, I’m not a child any longer. I shall have my fifteenth birthday in but a fortnight. I am growing into manhood, and feel the cravings of my beast like never before. It claws at my insides day and night. I have tried simply lying with a maid, but it is no use. My demon wants their blood along with their hot flesh. Let me go with the minions on their next excursion so my beast can be given its freedom. I cannot go on like this. Let me go. I’m begging you father. Lucian can keep an eye on me. ”

  The last words were said with a hint of disdain. Not for the man he mentioned, but for the fact that he should need anyone to keep an eye on him. The young men in the village weren’t treated as boys. By the age of fifteen one had left his mother’s skirts behind and found a wife, making a life for themselves, not sitting in the shadow of their fathers, and being coddled by their mothers.

  Mikhal looked at Mikhalen, really looked at him and knew the truth of his words. The boy had filled out, gone was the lanky awkwardness that came from growing into one’s body. Gone was the sweet voice of the child, his Mikhalen had indeed grown up, and it was time to start treating him different.

  The way Mikhal saw it, he could consult with Natalya to see if there was an herb or better yet a spell which would calm the boy’s hunger for violence, or he could do as Mikhalen had asked and allow his son’s beast the freedom it craved. He knew in his heart that magick was not the answer. Perhaps it would provide an easy fix, but he had heard time and again, knew for certain because of his own experience, that magick always came at a price, and often the price far outweighed the intended purpose.

  Mikhal drew in a deep unneeded breath and placed his hand on Mikhalen’s shoulder. “I shall speak to Lucian and... your maman.”

  How he was going to tell Alliana that Mikhalen would be leaving them to traverse the country and possibly find areas of unrest was beyond him at the moment, but he would. Mikhalen had fought a good battle, but it was clear his demon was putting him on the edge of insanity. He would let the boy go and have his fill and hopefully he would come home, his demon satiated, to resume his life with his parents. Was it a fool’s hope? One couldn’t tell until one tried, but he had to allow the boy to go before he went mad.

  “Thank you, father.” The relief that had filled his son’s eyes was enough to convince Mikhal that he had made the right choice, and it made his heart glad to see the torment erased from his face.

  “Go clean up and change. You can’t have your mother seeing you like this.”

  Mikhal looked down at himself. His clothes were torn and bloody from his brutal assault on the kitchen wench.

  “Yes, sir. I shall go see maman as soon as I am presentable.”

  “Very good, I will go in search of Lucian. It will be much easier to tell him of this new plan than it will be your mother, but both shall be done. You will wait until after your birthday. For you to be gone then would break her heart. We will leave the day after to
get your sister and then you will go with Lucian and the minions.”

  Mikhalen thought to protest, thought of the miserable days between now and when he would be free, but he did not argue. If he and his demon both knew the time for freedom was near, it would be much easier to reconcile the two and prevent the war within him from driving him mad.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Mikhal bade Lucian to come in, and then waved him to the vacant chair before the hearth. The two sat in silence for a moment, one waiting upon his Master, the other gathering his thoughts. He had promised Mikhalen that the boy could go out with the next patrol, knew it was what the boy needed, but a sense of disquiet filled him at the thought; that, and a sense of failure. The latter was an uncommon feeling in one who had been fierce and triumphant most of his life, but Mikhal could not help the feeling that he had let Mikhalen down in some way. He knew the boy was born of him, possessed a vicious demon in his core, but Mikhal had always thought that with a proper upbringing and a home filled with love, young Mikhalen could have fought back his beast’s demands without this soul wrenching struggle

  “You found him, Sire?”

  “Yes, in the old playroom. Everything there is in ruins. I don’t know if the destruction came only today, or if he has been retreating up there to unleash his fury for some time. He is in misery, Lucian. My child is suffering and I must help him.”

  “Yes...” Lucian cared for the boy deeply. Mikhalen was like a son to him. He and Natalya spent much time over the years caring for him, teaching him; being like parents when Lord and Lady Arcos were at the Gypsy camp. “Where is he now?”

  “I sent him to clean up and suggested he go see his mother. She is a calming influence.”

  “Natalya is with Lady Arcos.” It was a simple statement and his voice conveyed not a hint of worry, but Mikhal knew what was going through Lucian’s head nonetheless.