We found Usela standing watch from the doorway of a steel building not far from the entrance to the Halls of Lucina. Her platinum-blonde hair was in disarray around her face, her gray eyes hard and cold as she seemed to study everything at once and see past the present and into other times. I had the same impression of her I’d had the first time. Like looking upon a mighty Viking warrior who was ageless, touched not by the hands of time, and able to see deeper than most. When her stone-gray eyes shifted to me, her white lashes fluttered, as though she were coming out of a trance, and she frowned.
“Valkyrie, you are tainted. Evil has a handhold on your soul.” In her expression, I was surprised to see worry, empathy even, rather than censor.
I inclined my head, and glanced at Chandler and Thane. Looking back at her, I asked, “Might we speak alone?”
Without hesitation, she nodded. “You saved my life once, giving you this small request is the least I can do.”
When Thane and Chandler had moved a considerable distance away, I looked back toward the powerful Nephilim warrior queen. “I was taken by a demon into the underworld. I…lost control for a while. I won’t lie to you Usela, I didn’t want to fight it. I was tired of fighting the dark urges I often feel. I gave into the weakness. And now, I fear I have not completely escaped.”
Her timeless eyes held mine captive for several long moments, and I held my breath to see what her verdict would be. Would she judge me as wanting, useless, untrustworthy? Or would she see that inside, there was still good, and light, and a desire to take back our world? Her eyes seemed to look past skin and bone, past the labels of good and bad, and all the way into my soul. When her eyes widened, she sucked in a breath.
Blinking, her white lashes brushing her cheeks several times, she sighed as she seemed to recover herself. “I have seen that print before, the one who has touched you. This is not a simple matter. I see the Fenix has risen, and he too has a claim over you. This is…curious. His birth predated yours. His purpose in creation was to hunt the unexplainable, and uncontrollable creatures of our worlds, but with you, he does not hunt you, he pursues you. Tell me, does he recall his earlier beginnings?”
I frowned. “Uh, I don’t really know. I try to avoid him…mostly.”
Usela smiled in a way that made me feel the need to blush. Was it possible she knew the things that had transpired between Aeron and me? Her next words wiped those thoughts from my mind.
“I’m afraid it is you who must unlock the chains you have allowed to bind you. There are so many whose lives have influenced yours. Byron, Desmond, Corentine, the Fiddler, Aeron…so many. Each holds a key, and the only way to unlock the gates is to confront each. Some are allies, some enemies. Some…” she shook her head. “Some are unclear. I believe in you Valkyrie, no matter if you have been tainted or not. You were already tainted when you were born, and yet you have had my trust. There is a part to you that you’ve yet to embrace, and to free yourself from the hold of your enemies, you must find that part, and release it.”
My mind was abuzz with thoughts, ideas, and questions. What side was she talking about? Was she referring to the Reaper? Hadn’t I already acknowledged that part of myself? Was she speaking of the darker side of myself? What about the blood of Ian Vangrough? I didn’t fully understand what she spoke of, but as her eyes shifted away from me, and she reached for her sword, I knew I wasn’t going to get any more information from her. Shifting on the balls of my feet, I watched the darkly demented creatures that stirred around the edge of the city the Lucina defended.
Usela grinned at me, a maniacal gleam in her eyes. “Will you fight with us today, Valkyrie?”
I thought…Uh…hell yes! Grinning at her, I allowed my skin to turn charcoal, and I flashed her a wicked smile.
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With the pointed tip of one skeletal wing sunk deep into the throat of the demonic animal-like creature who had lunged at me moments before, and my hand around the throat of another, I felt the fire begin to overtake my body as the battle raged fully around me. Not far to my left, Chandler snarled as he ripped the flesh from a Doblin with his vicious teeth, and Usela drove her sword deep into the chest of a Werewolf, only this one was unlike the ones I knew in so many ways, as though it were not a normal shifter, but some creature stuck morphed in between several others. Many of the demonic hordes that ran through the city were unidentifiable, and it made me uneasy. There was something else going on here. As though they were being made into new monsters.
Breaking apart from the others, I opened my senses wider, scanning through the Monsters, and Vampires with my internal grid. I was looking for something, I just wasn’t certain what yet. It was there, on the air, its scent wafting to me, fueling my fires, stirring my desire for death, but I couldn’t quite pin it down or give it a label. I heard Chandler holler at me, his deep voice caught between man and animal, but I ignored him. This scent, it called to me, feeding my curiosity, making me need to know what it was. Like the scent of a wounded animal to a starving carnivore, it beckoned me.
I passed Thane as he brought down two Vampires in one swift strike, and I felt his blue eyes boring into my back as he too called out to me. But again, I just couldn’t stop myself. Like a puppet on a string, I moved forward. The Reaper inside of me shifted also, its desire for blood and death mingling with the darkness in me as we followed the mysterious smell that clouded our mind. As I neared the edge of town, my vision wavered, and then flashed to another time.
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Torch light flickered around me and Vampires dressed in Victorian dresses swirled and laughed. They fanned their faces with delicate lace hand fans, pretending to be like the humans they consorted with. Their fangs were hidden, and the men flocked to them, unable to resist the ethereal beauty they exhibited. Male Vampires bent over the slim, pale hands of women as they bowed and curtsied to one another, playing the genteel game that would end in death and blood. The humans had no idea what lurked in the shadows, nor what dangers they courted as they giggled and danced in their fancy gowns and perfectly tailored waistcoats.
Across the room, I caught a glimpse of a familiar face. His silvery hair slicked back from his face, his wide shoulders covered with an impeccable black suit. As he turned to greet a beautiful young woman, his bi-colored eyes caught mine, and a gleam passed through them. He looked at me as though he knew me, and not just a little. But as my eyes caught the reflection I cast into the mirror behind him, I gasped. This was not my memory. My mother’s icy blue eyes stared back at me as she grinned at Dresden Villart. Moving toward him, she/I greeted him warmly. I knew I was only a bystander in this vision, but I didn’t know how or why.
Dresden leaned his face in close to my mother’s, whispering softly in her ear. “Corentine, have you found the target?”
With a silky soft chuckle, she inclined her head. “He’s all but in the bag. Meet me in the garden…ten minutes.”
My mind flashed, and I found myself in a darkened garden, standing over a body. The throat was ripped open, dark red blood spilling onto the pristine stones beneath him. I felt feral, wild, and lustful. Behind me, a voice called out. Dresden’s voice.
“Corentine, damn it, what have you done?”
Spinning about, I watched his eyes widen, saw the fear that passed through them, and caught sight of my reflection there. Blood covered my mouth and dribbled down my throat, my eyes, already a pale blue had faded to white, and they held a wild look to them. My fangs were long and my mouth slightly open.
“What Dresden? Tis no more than you would have done yourself.” I felt her anger, he was judging her.
Dresden sighed. “I would have done it cleanly, made it look like a human killed him, not a rabid beast!”
I could feel the waves of dark anger that flooded her. I could see the thoughts where she considered killing him. His face paled, and I knew he felt the threat.
“Just get the bloody stone and let’s get the hell out of here.” Dresden turned on his heel and disappeared int
o the night.
Turning back to the body, she licked her lips, reveling in the sweet taste of the blood that stained her mouth. Crouching beside the body, she searched the pockets until she pulled a small stone from one. The dark colored oval stone seemed to come alive in her hands, dark crimson colors swirling under its surface. She didn’t know what this stone was, so she stuffed it into the bodice of her gown, and turned from the massacred body. That’s when she saw him. He leaned nonchalantly against a pillar in the dark unlit garden, arms crossed over his chest, and a smile lingering in his deep blue eyes.
He was handsome, and as she inhaled, she knew he was the same as she. Their eyes held, and she flashed him a small smile before she fled into the streets beyond. I was breathing hard as the haze of the vision cleared. Byron Walker had been the one watching her, and my confusion grew. My mother clearly had the bloodlust of the Vangrough’s and I had seen the regret in Dresden’s face. He felt he had made a mistake keeping her alive. He feared what she might become…no, that wasn’t quite right. He feared what she would create when she birthed me. Dresden had told me as much, told me that he’d seen her future when he spared her life.
What the vision meant, I wasn’t completely sure, but I wanted to know what the hell that stone was and what it had meant. More importantly at the moment, however, was the question of whose memory this had been, and why had I seen it? When reality fully came back to me, I found that I’d wandered deep into the hills that bordered the city where the Lucina currently fought Byron’s army. A bad feeling settled in the pit of my stomach, and I realized how ignorant I had been to follow the deceptively sweet smell of the scent that lured me here. Something moved in the shadows, and for a fleeting second I thought perhaps my meeting with Byron had finally come.
I was wrong. Achingly familiar whiskey-brown eyes looked out at me from the darkness, but there was something not quite right about them. They flashed an eerie bright white for a moment before returning to brown. I frowned, and called to him.
“Desmond, is that you?”
His face emerged from the dark again, and it was, indeed the man I’d once called my lover. As I watched, his features seemed to contort, as though something else were trying to surface beneath the flesh of his face, but then it was gone again, so fleeting that I wondered if I had indeed seen something there.
His honey voice caressed me as he stepped a little further from the dark. “Valkyrie, you aren’t safe here. Byron has set a trap. Please run, now, before I can’t…” his words cut off as a menacing growl ripped through his chest.
Instinctively, I took a step back, watching the look of pain that flashed across his features. Something was very wrong here. Desmond seemed to be fighting some inner battle, but still he advanced on me. Although in many ways, I hated this man, I still felt the surge of sympathy inside of me, and for whatever inconceivable reason, I wanted to help him. Holding out my hand,
I said, “Desmond, let me help you.” Then, the world went black.
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23
Captive
She was so painfully beautiful, so perfect, so…tainted. I could smell the dark magic in her veins, like a whiff of the sweetest poison. The aroma of sulfur wafted to my nose, reminding me that she had been to Hell and back. The ancient bloodline in her mingled with all the other scents, newly acquired as well as inborn, and the mixture was heady indeed. Closing my eyes, I felt a high just breathing her in. What interesting creatures we had become, she and I. Both of us changed, both of us darkened around the edges, but somehow, I knew there was still good in her. The question was: was it so with me as well? Pacing away from her, I heard the click-clack of claws as they tapped against the cement of the floor beneath me.
My heart contracted, and a growl rose in my chest, rattling against the ribs there. Looking back at my sweet, beloved Valkyrie, I groaned, “My god, what have they done to me? I would give anything to go back, to undo the corruption, and whisk you away in my arms as you begged me to so very long ago…”
My fangs lengthened and the animal in me tried again to grab hold of control. I sucked in a deep breath, but it did little to calm me, for along with it came the reminder of what else had changed about her. She had been claimed by another, and I knew she had given herself to him. The thought drove me to the edge of control, and I felt my spine begin to shift, my face begin to contort, and I was powerless to stop the transformation that had already begun. I fought the change, tried to maintain control, but it was futile.
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Groaning, I tried to sit up, but my body felt weak, and it brought to mind a time when I had been drugged and chained. Just the thought of such a things made my eyes snap open, and I heaved myself up, looking into the darkness around me. My eyes tried to adjust to the dimness, but my mind was cloudy, and my head pounding. A shuffling in the distant corner caught my attention, and I turned my head slowly, catching sight of the pair of white orbs watching me. My breathing stopped, and my body went utterly still, in defense mode. Whatever lurked there, it was not anything familiar to me. I had never smelled that particular scent before, and it unnerved me.
I was already disoriented and annoyed that I had blacked out again; that I was so weak was unacceptable. Why did this keep happening to me? I was Pyralis and I was supposed to be stronger than anyone else, but I was finding that I had flaws…many of them, apparently. Now, on top of all that, I was who-knew-where, stuck in a cement room with who-knew-what. The creature who watched me shifted slightly, and a portion of him extended toward me. I grimaced. My eyes began to adjust to the dark as my mind cleared, and once I could see all of it, I wished I couldn’t.
The beast was some sort of twisted mix of man, Werewolf, and demon. His skin was a sickly dark gray, his eyes white orbs, his face what appeared to be half frozen between wolf and man, and his body was nearly unrecognizable. The body of a man, but larger, his spine hunched and protruding, with hands that had become elongated claws with razor-sharp talons, and legs which had thickened with muscle, and sprouted what resembled Gargoyle feet. I shook my head, trying to absorb whatever this thing was.
It never took its eyes off of me, and as I stared back, I noticed an uncanny intelligence lurking there. It didn’t try to attack me, at least not yet, and seemed frozen where it was, only its head moving as it watched me. The creature’s eyes seemed to dilate and then retract, over and over, as though it raged an internal battle. Slowly, the white glowing orbs darkened, until they became a familiar liquid brown. My own eyes widened, and my breath hitched in my chest. I knew those eyes.
My forehead crinkled into a frown as I stared in confusion and sorrow at the creature. Finally recovering my breath, I whispered a broken, “Desmond?”
The beast shuddered, turning its face away from me. I watched, paralyzed by my shock, as the beast struggled to get ahold of itself. Its body started to become human, but enlarged back to this beastial form several times. After what felt like eternity-but I knew had only been a few minutes, the creature collapsed onto the cold cement floor as the man alone.
He lifted his brown eyes to mine, and I was overcome with emotions and feelings. Love, hope, sadness, uncertainty, mistrust. They were all there. I knew this man, yet I didn’t. I had loved this man, and perhaps there were still feelings there, but I didn’t trust him, and I didn’t know what had become of him.
“Valkyrie, please, forgive me. I am not the monster you think I am. I couldn’t let him get to you. I knew the things he had planned for you. And for others.” His voice was hoarse, gravelly from disuse, and as he looked down at himself, his full meaning clicked in.
“You mean, someone did this to you? They turned you into this…beast? How is that possible?”
His face fell. “When I escaped from your camp during the battle, I was weak, and I stumbled back to him, thinking he would take me back. He was angry with me. He said that I had failed him, that the dark ones I had pledged myself to could have me.”
Shaking my he
ad in confusion, I asked, “Wait, you’re not making any sense Desmond. Who are you speaking of? Who did this to you?” I had been certain we were speaking of Byron, but now I wasn’t so certain.
Desmond released a shaky breath. “Byron isn’t what you think he is. Yes, he started all of this. Yes, he is the name many follow, but he is not the one in charge…anymore.”
I felt unsettled. Was Desmond about to laugh like a maniac and tell me he was the mastermind and that I had allowed him to capture me again? Or was there more to the surface of my lover than I realized? His brown eyes held mine, and it wasn’t fear I felt, but sympathy.
“What do you mean? Byron isn’t the one leading the beasts of the netherworld into our world?”
Desmond shook his head, slowly. “No. It began that way…but then he found that he wasn’t strong enough to control the one he called upon. We thought, Byron, Niada, and I, we thought between us, we could use him for his powers, but we were so wrong.”
I still felt left in the dark. My voice rose a little. “Desmond! What are you saying? Who is doing this, and how did you get like…this?”
He dropped his head, but not before I saw remorse pass through his face. “I am talking about Ian Vangrough.”
My world began to spin, and my head felt light. Vangrough…that was impossible…wasn’t it? It just didn’t make sense. “Desmond, Ian Vangrough was killed hundreds of years ago.”
Lifting his eyes, they flashed white then brown several times as he seemed to be getting ahold of himself. “That would be true…if he had been a mortal.”
Where my world seemed to spin a moment before, now it dropped out from beneath me, and I collapsed down onto the floor. I had no words, no answers, and-as always-too many damned questions. “Impossible…” I muttered the words, even as my heart told me it was very possible.
I didn’t understand any of it. How had Villart and the other Ancients believed they’d killed him, and his entire line, if he had been alive all this time? Looking up at Desmond, I asked, “How?”
Valkyrie Divided (Pyralis Book 2) Page 25