"Forgive me, child," her father rasped as the Apocritae descended upon her.
Celeste tried to fight but there were too many of them and she couldn’t figure out how to get her power to work; she didn’t even know if there was anything she could do to fight off so many. As slender arms of steel wrapped around her arms, her chest, lifting her off the ground she jerked her head around and glared at her father, “Why?”
He didn’t answer, instead he stepped forward and pulled out a wicked looking syringe. “Father, no!”
“I have no choice,” he muttered, jabbing the needle into her neck and drawing out a vial full of blood. His eyes met hers and she saw the depths of his betrayal in them. “I’m not sorry, Celeste; it’s the only way to save her.”
“Father,” she said softly, her eyes filling with tears as he turned away and melted into the group as the moved through the corridors. Frantic, she looked at the Apocritae who held her in their arms, desperate to find a sympathetic expression, anything that might give her hope. They were all so unnaturally beautiful, with sleek bodies and cold eyes, dressed in the finest silks.
A pair of unusual, not quite all black eyes met hers and she shivered. Adam was right: the Apocritum were a cold race. Although, there was something about the one that was staring at her, something…. “Your eyes.”
He glared at her with such venom she recoiled, “You would have us destroyed.”
She shook her head no, desperate to have him believe her, “I wouldn’t, I swear.”
He bent his head, swiping his tongue along the blood that trickled down her neck. Lifting his chin, he closed his eyes in ecstasy as the ripe, rich blood moved down his throat. “Yes, you would. We are not of your blood, you would have no choice.”
“There is always a choice,” she whispered hoarsely, twisting her body to try to break their hold on her. Despite their slender forms, they were exceptionally strong.
His finger reached out and traced the length of her vein as he smiled knowingly, “No, there is not; not always. I am but a servant; there for my Queen’s pleasure and that is all.”
Motioning his head to someone behind her, he turned on his heel and walked away, but not before she saw that more white surrounded the black irises. She was going to call him back and ask him what he meant but a foul smelling rag was placed over her nose and mouth. As much as she fought, she knew it was futile. Moments before falling into darkness, her last thoughts were of Adam and Auberon, praying they would not be punished,
*****
Stephen followed the small group through the corridors, seeing the limp body of his daughter. He fervently held onto the vial of Celeste’s blood, knowing that it was all going to be worth it. Gloria never should have traded her life for the child’s; she should have lived, damn it. And now, she was finally going to get her life back, thanks to the child for whom she gave up everything. He just had to ignore the guilt that ate at his gut.
The Queen was waiting for them as they walked through the doors to her chamber, the tension radiated from her slender, lethal body. Her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared as her gaze moved over the unconscious brunette, “Is that her?”
“Yes, my Queen,” one of the Apocritae answered, falling to his knees in supplication as the others carried the body over to a table that had been prepared for the girl’s arrival. Stephen watched with detached horror as they strapped Celeste to the hard table, binding her with metal chains that would bite into her delicate skin if she tried to struggle.
Lifting his chin a notch, he faced the Queen but she ignored him and moved towards her prisoner. He watched as she slowly walked around her prisoner, the rage oozing from every pore in her body as she glared down at Celeste. She ran a long, red talon across Celeste’s cheek, down the front of her body, letting her hand come to a rest on Celeste’s stomach. The Queen drew her hand back with a sharp hiss as her head shot up and her black eyes blazed in rage. “She is with child.”
Stephen staggered under the weight of that news; he was going to be a grandfather…. Tightening his jaw, he could not let that unfortunate fact affect him. But if that were true, that meant Celeste wasn’t the wrinkle; it was….
“The baby,” a deep, silky smooth voice murmured from the hallway. Stephen turned and saw Adam standing in the door, his black eyes focused on the Queen. “The baby is the wrinkle, not the girl.”
*****
As soon as he felt the excitement buzzing in the Apocritae, Auberon exchanged a look with Adam and they knew the shit had hit the fan; somehow the Queen had discovered Celeste. Both moved towards the door but his brother was quicker and so Adam’s back was turned when Auberon swung the chair with all of his might. He had hit Adam’s head, knocking his brother out. He knew that Adam wouldn’t be able to do what needed to be done and everything that they had worked so hard for would be lost.
Changing into a suit, he locked Adam in the room and quickly made his way to his Mother’s chambers. He nearly died when he saw Celeste bound to the metal table but he forced all emotion from his face before he made his presence known.
“The baby is the wrinkle, not the girl,” he said easily, his guts clawing through his flesh from the inside. He pushed off the door and walked into the room, careful to never let his eyes drift to Celeste. Holding his Mother’s gaze, he spoke calmly, confidently, hoping this huge gamble worked. “Take the child and the threat will be eliminated.”
“If I destroy the girl I destroy the child,” the Queen returned, gliding across the room to stand before her beloved son. She caressed his smooth cheek and smiled at him.
“Mother,” Auberon smiled indulgently, even as his skin crawled beneath her touch. “You know that my brother has been feeling restless these past years. If you offer the girl as a token of good will he will return to the fold.”
Her shiny, black eyes narrowed slightly as she considered his words. After a moment, she sneered and shook her head, “No.”
“Mother,” Auberon’s voice flowed with charm as he took her hand in his, bringing it up to his lips and kissing her fingers. “He already struggles with the shackles placed upon him. If you destroy his favorite pet, he will not forgive you.”
She pursed her lips, measuring the weight of his words. He frowned slightly, adding a lie to the temptation of placating Auberon… himself. “Without the child she is defenseless. You know that he will tire of her eventually and he will eliminate her on his own; Give him his pet and you cannot lose.”
He could see the thought process working in her head and he smiled, “Well?”
“Take the child,” the Queen ordered. “We shall ask the Monoliths if the infant is a threat. The girl will remain locked up until we know one way or the other. If the girl is not a threat your brother may keep her. However, if she is a threat I will kill everyone who was involved with her ascent, including Auberon.”
“As you wish, Mother,” Auberon smiled though it hurt to do so. Inwardly he cringed and his gut tightened with what he was about to do; what he had to do. As he strode over to the table where Celeste remained motionless, unconscious, the words of the Goddess came back to him.
“Uncle Auberon,” she said in her little girl voice, her soft breath fanning over his neck as he held her in his arms and she whispered in his ear. “They are going to hurt the baby. They will destroy her, Uncle Auberon.”
He tilted his head back and looked at the child, the serious expression making her appear so much older, wiser than her three years. He swallowed, knowing that the next words she spoke were going to condemn him. “Uncle Auberon, you must steal the baby first, by whatever means necessary.”
His gaze darted to Celeste, watching her in his brother’s arms and an agony of longing swept over him. “Why?”
“The child is important; she is a contingency plan,” the Goddess whispered, earnestly staring into his eyes. She placed her tiny hand on his cheek, offering comfort even as she stabbed him through the heart with her words. “If you do not steal her first and Ce
leste is destroyed, there will be no hope for the Apocritae.” She paused and looked over her shoulder at Celeste, “There will be one chance and you must take it.”
He swallowed air, cold and thick and heavy with despair. “I cannot do that to her.”
“It’s the only way to save the child,” the Goddess said softly. “If you fail in this, the child will die.”
“And we will all be lost,” he said, laughing without humor. He looked at Celeste, willing her to look at him and see him. She did, turning her head, questions in her beautiful hazel eyes. How could he hurt her? How could he do what the Goddess said needed to be done?
Placing his hand over the small life within his beloved Celeste’s womb, he closed his eyes, letting his love and despair wash through him. He knew what he had to do. Lowering his voice, he spoke to the group surrounding Celeste’s unconscious body, “Leave.”
All but one left. The interloper stood there, staring down at the girl. “What is she?”
Auberon’s nostrils flared as he fought the urge to slam his fist into the beast’s perfect face, “She’s just a girl that pleases my brother for the moment.”
He heard the sharp intake of breath next to him and he turned his head. Black irises surrounded by white stared back at him and it was his turn to catch his breath. The Apocritum smiled conspiratorially back and winked, “She’s not just a girl.”
With that, the altered Apocritum walked away, leaving Auberon alone to do what needed to be done. Silently, he apologized to Celeste as he closed his eyes. He could feel the child’s fear as she tried to evade his grasp but she would not be able to escape. Sending out a wave of calmness, he let the child know that he meant her no harm, that she would be safe. She slowed, frightened and apprehensive as he removed her and the placenta from her mother’s womb.
“I must dispose of this… thing and then I will consult with the Monoliths,” he sneered with his back towards the other occupants of the room. He couldn’t let them see the anguish twisting his face, it would give everything away. He hated the thought of leaving Celeste in the Queen's clutches for even a moment but he had no choice; he could only hope that his Mother loved him enough to grant him his wish. "Keep the girl safe."
Protectively cradling the small life in the mystical web, he quickly made his way out of the room, needing to get her to the gestation chamber before his daring plan was discovered. He had to secure the child's future but there was so little time and he needed every moment of the next twenty-four hours to succeed. Swallowing, he silently begged for Celeste’s forgiveness, knowing he would never be worthy.
The Goddess had to be right.
Feeling sick unto death, Auberon made his way to the gestation tanks, carefully setting the embryo inside one. As he waited, he ran a genetic screen to see how it was possible for his brother to produce a child when he hadn’t had any genetic material.
Punching a few buttons, his jaw dropped as he saw the genetic material was a perfect match to one other person on file: Celeste. The child wasn’t the product of an Apocritum and a human; she was a clone of Celeste.
The contingency plan should Celeste fail, just as the Goddess had said.
What have you done? Adam's voice screamed in his head and Auberon had to bury his guilt and his pain. His brother was not going to be pleased to discover the angelic netting holding him. Of course Adam was going to be able to free himself eventually but Auberon needed him out of the way for this to work. He did not trust his brother to stay away from Celeste, especially if she suffered. Auberon! What have you done?
I've done what was necessary to save us all, he answered, watching the child age before his eyes.
I need to find her, Adam growled, his desperation making his thoughts unsteady. Free me, Auberon.
If you go to her you will destroy us all, Auberon said with a calmness he did not feel. Let me handle this, brother; I promise you she will be safe.
Please, Auberon, let me go to her, Adam pleaded. Release me and let me go to her.
Auberon squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed the agony, desperate to keep his head clear for the next twenty-four hours. This is the only way to save her, Adamanteros.
Chapter 17
Stephen stood before the Queen, his body shaking from the events that had just played out, the events that he had brought about. Clutching the syringe against his chest, he squared his shoulders. He wasn’t going to think about the girl strapped to the table. Adam managed to save her but he wasn’t sure what kind of life Celeste would lead once she was released. At least she wasn’t going to be killed for her father’s sins. Where was the other girl? The blond? He hadn’t seen her since the hallway.
Kim, her name was Kim.
Dismissing his unwanted thoughts, he swallowed, “My wife?”
The Queen’s red lips curved upwards in a cruel smile as she subtly moved her head and a set of doors behind him promptly opened. Holding his breath, he slowly turned around. All of his years of hardship, of loss, faded as his precious Gloria flowed into the room, looking like a… a whore in her Calix clothes. Forcing his eyes to remain on her precious face, he ignored the lack of material covering her lush body. It didn’t matter what she wore, he held her salvation in his hand. She would be human once more.
He drank in the sight of her. After twenty-three years he was finally seeing his wife, the woman for whom he had sacrificed everything. She was just as beautiful as the day they met, perhaps even more so. Her chocolate brown hair was lustrous, just like it had been before she got sick; her skin was flawless, her eyes…. He frowned, her eyes were black, Calix black, not the beautiful hazel he remembered. Of course they were black; she was a Calix, if only for a little while longer. How else did she remain young while he had aged?
“Thank you,” Stephen murmured, bowing to the creature who made this moment possible, no matter what the cost. Cautiously, he approached his wife, careful to keep his euphoria in check. It wouldn’t do to alarm her, she was still Calix. But that was about to change; it didn’t matter that he stood in the Queen’s chambers, that the powerful woman was an audience to this most daring rescue. He had waited for so long and the blood was so fresh; he had to do it now before the blood lost is effectiveness.
Gloria stood so still, wary but unmoving, not watching him at all, not seeing him.
As soon as he was close enough to her, he was able to smell her familiar scent. But it wasn’t familiar; she smelled of musk and sex, not like the girl he once knew. Ignoring the doubts that tried to reach him, he snaked his free arm around her waist and pulled her against his body. She was cool to the touch, abnormally so, but he didn’t let that distract him. Without a second thought, he took the syringe of Celeste’s blood and stabbed it into Gloria’s neck, forcing the blood into her body. He felt her begin to tremble and he sighed with relief; it worked.
Her shriek filled the air and he stumbled backwards, leaving the syringe dangling from his wife’s throat. Her hand tore at her skin to remove the needle as she spun around, her gaze landing on the man who had pricked her with a needle. “What have you done?”
“Gloria,” his voice was breathless as he watched recognition fill her hazel eyes; her hazel eyes. It worked; all of his years weren’t wasted! His lips trembled upwards in a joyous smile as he held his hands out to her, “Gloria, my love.”
“What have you done?” she repeated, clutching her stomach as cramps wracked her body. “Stephen, what have you done?”
“I’ve saved you,” he said softly, suddenly unsure as he watched pain ripple through his wife’s body. Why would Celeste’s blood do this to his beloved wife? Didn’t it create DNA in an Apocritum?
“You… idiot!” she gasped out, clawing at her skin, trying to rip it off to stop the burning. Her eyes grew larger as fangs erupted from her mouth. “You’ve destroyed me!”
“Gloria!” he cried out in alarm as her body twisted and altered its shape. She lifted her head and he took a step backwards as she snarled at him. Blood oozed fro
m her self-inflicted wounds and she stalked closer, her nostrils flaring as she breathed him in. She wasn’t a Thraell, she was something else.
“What is that… thing?” the Queen asked with icy disdain as Apocritae surrounded her, shielding her from harm.
Stephen was only peripherally aware that anyone else was in the room, that they were moving away from the monster he created. “Gloria, it’s me; it’s Stephen.”
A vicious growl erupted from the beast as she lunged forward and ripped his throat open. Gurgled sounds came from his neck as he tried to speak through the blood. His last thoughts were of the fact that Calices were not Apocritae. They had DNA; they would not have the same reactions. He was a fool to believe he could save his wife. “O…i…a.”
The Queen stared in clinical interest as the Calix ravaged her former husband. Interesting; she hadn’t expected that to happen. There was something very pleasant about seeing such viciousness, especially when it took care of a thorn that was going to have to be removed anyway. Perhaps she was going to have to reconsider her position on the girl. No, she had promised Adam that she would wait for word from him, discover if the wrinkle was taken care of with the destruction of the abomination in the girl’s womb. She did not want to lose another son over something so trivial but Auberon could be so stubborn. It wouldn’t hurt to throw her son a pet.
Without giving any more thought to the girl strapped to the table or the bloody mess of the slave, she removed herself from the room, finding sanctuary in her inner chambers until Adam returned. Her lovely pets would offer her solace on such a trying morning.
*****
Celeste’s head pounded in excruciating pain and she didn’t want to open her eyes, unable to believe that her father had turned her over to the Queen. Had it not been for him she would have been able to continue working beneath the Queen's radar for a while longer. They had been on the verge of finding something that might have been helpful. Surprisingly, it was in a book of ancient mythology, a vague reference to a civilization that had existed before and simply vanished. She had joked with Auberon that he came from the lost city of Atlantis and he had simply smiled back, telling her Atlantis was only a myth.
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