by A. E. Watson
I don't know how long I walk but the smell gets stronger. It leads me to a spot where there are huts and cabins and people. There are fires and lights. The group of people hasn't gotten so big that it threatens the night’s sky. In fact, the warm glow of the small village adds a postcard or advertisement sort of look to the area. The dark sky, the stars, the village of small fires, and the outline of the huts look staged.
It could quite easily be an ad for a guest ranch in Arizona.
But it’s not.
It’s where the smell of the evil is coming from.
Of course, from people. We are the evil in the world. The only true form of malice.
Gripping the dagger, I walk forward cautiously.
My eyes aren’t doing their thing here. I can’t see in the dark the way I can back home. I jump when noise pricks at my ears. It seems so loud here, but I know it’s not. It’s silent compared to the time I’m from.
Hearing it again, I squint and realize it's only the people in the village, and they are still far enough away that they won’t see me. I don't know that I should go closer though. My clothes will look strange and the dagger will suggest I’m not here as a friend, so I creep along as I get near enough to hear them.
One voice stands out amongst the others.
It brings a chill up my spine and sends all the hairs on my arms on end.
My feet refuse another step.
I am stronger than he is, and yet nothing terrifies me the way my father does.
Lucifer has killed me twice, maybe it’s left a stain of fear on my heart.
Lowering to my knees, I crouch and wait for the bravery to come back.
My eyes draw to the sky as I beg for God to make me brave enough.
My feet cramp and my knees ache, and I end up sitting in the dusty path before the bravery even contemplates coming back.
The people laugh and talk like campers around the fire. Lucifer entertains, speaking about a hunt and someone who didn't know how to kill an animal. His story makes them laugh, but I can’t stop seeing the terribly selfish man. I am officially at the stage where he can’t do a single thing right. His breathing makes me want to stab him in the eye.
Just as I am about to stand and force myself in there, a figure in the dark catches my eye. I freeze, hoping I won’t have to hurt someone innocent, but the person walks straight for me. I want to stand and be prepared, but I don't want to startle them. Panic isn’t what I need if I’m going to sneak into the huts and kill Ezara.
So I hold my breath and wait.
As the person gets closer I can see it’s a girl. I exhale, thankful I might be able to explain that I am lost and worried about coming into the village at night.
But she stops and stares in my direction. I can’t see her face with the light of the houses and fires behind her.
“Rayne?”
Relief and horror fill me simultaneously. “Ezara?”
“Why are you here?” She doesn’t come closer.
“I need to make us all one so I can kill him.” I don't want to say what I really need. I don't want to lie either. I hate this.
“How?”
And there it is, the question of the hour. How? I cannot lie so I tell her the truth, “I have to stab you with this dagger and then Maggie and then Ellie, and then I have to stab Lucifer.” My words are whispers, tasting so treacherous I cannot say them aloud. She must understand because she starts walking toward me again.
Even in the dark I can tell we are nearly identical, the same as Liana. She looks young, the way Liana was. She sits across from me in the dirt. “Are you Yahweh now?” She asks if I am the ancient word for God as tears leak from her eyes. I barely catch the glisten of them in the dark as she cries silently.
“No. I’m still your sister in every way.”
“Did you kill Liana?”
“Yes.”
“He said it was Yahweh who would come,” she whispers back. “He said Yahweh ruined his chances with Liana. She never sacrificed herself and the world is a worse place for it. He said that was Yahweh’s fault.”
“It’s my fault. I took her before he could sacrifice her. I freed her before he had the chance to hurt her.” I hope that's what I did anyway.
“I don't want to die, but I know he will kill me. I have seen it.” Her voice is small, weak maybe.
“I don't want to kill you or any of us, and I don't want to die either, but I don't have a choice. We all must die to save the world.”
“Will you sing me a song while you do it, so I don't feel scared?” She moves forward a little.
I hold my arms out to her. “I will.” My heart breaks again. It was sore when I got here from Liana and now the ache has worsened.
She crawls to me in the dirt, lying back with her head on my lap and stares at the sky. “I want to be a speck of dust on the wind so I can see the world.” She takes a deep breath as I begin singing “A Sky Full of Stars.” It's all I can think of here. The lyrics barely leave my shaky lips as I raise the dagger.
“Ezara!” His voice tries to interrupt my song, but I don't let it. “EZARA!” He sounds desperate.
I sound sad, but I try to drown out the emotion from us both as I sing.
She closes her eyes and nods. “Do it now.”
I sing the chorus once more as our father screams and runs over the dusty plains. He’s close but he can’t see me bring the knife down on my sister. Her eyes open, reflecting all the stars in their dark glossiness. She gasps for air, gripping me, and then she’s gone.
Sobs rip from me as I clutch her the way she did me. She smells like campfire and goodness and all the things a young girl should smell of. The innocence of childhood is still there in my nostrils when I blink and am back in the painting, with no dead sister in my arms.
Lifting my head, I give Willow and Constantine a look. “I don't know that I can do two more.”
They both look like they understand, and yet Willow helps me up and Constantine wraps his arm around me, helping me walk back over to the mirror.
I want so badly to fight him on it, but I don't.
This is my fate.
Chapter Thirteen
“It’s this way.” Constantine pulls me through a dark corridor that seems more like a tunnel under a building. It’s where the mirror brought us.
The world smells worse than I imagined it would.
The air is dank and ripe with terrible energy.
It’s because Liana and Ezara have not died for Lucifer. They have not taken evil for him to balance the world. They have died by my hand to save the world he polluted.
“It seems different than I recall it.” Constantine shakes his head as he walks quickly. “There’s something I can’t put my finger on,” he mutters as he pulls me through an open room. I don't know what it is, a medieval kitchen maybe. There’s a sickening smell of food, not the kind I like to eat. The food stench is mixed with sweat and filth and fire. Subtly there’s spices and grease, but mostly it’s just the stink of a serious lack of sanitation and ventilation.
“My sisters haven’t taken the evil in the world and balanced it,” I murmur, noting how dark it is here too. I wish my eyes would turn on. I don't like the dark.
“Of course. You’ve killed them both before Lucifer could. It does smell more evil. And the castle doesn’t seem quite as fine as it should be.” He turns, losing the determination and focus on the mission. His dark eyes soften as he sighs. “I am so sorry you have to do this.”
“Me too.”
He squeezes my hands and for a second I think he might kiss me. But he presses his lips together and turns, becoming the man on a mission again.
The fluttering in my stomach tells me that I wanted that kiss. That's a confusing feeling for me. My love for Wyatt is so obvious that there shouldn't be room for Constantine, and yet somehow there always is.
When he gets to the stairs, he looks back. “This leads to the alleyway. When we get there we must leave the city and head into t
he forest. That’s where Maggie and her mother lived. Her mother should be quite ill by now. She will die while Maggie is still a girl. She lived alone in the woods, with no one. It was some time before the Van Helsings caught her and force-fed her the evil of the world.”
“This whole thing is some serious bullshit.” I grip the dagger, already noticing the tingle from the lives inside it. “I killed the seven devils and the four horsemen. I cut Lucifer’s head off. He should be gone and the world should be free. He and his ‘soul for a soul’ loophole crap is making me angry.”
Constantine’s lips curl up into a grin. “Watch your mouth, Rayne. A lady doesn’t swear, especially not in this time.”
“I don't look like a lady, I look homeless. My dirty jeans have seen better days and my sweater with the holes for my wings isn’t going to impress anyone.”
“Pull out the wings and you’ll see impressed faces, right before they burn you for being a witch.” He winks. “The Dark Ages are no place for the weak. Try to remember being that little girl who lived in the woods all alone and never complained.” He rolls his eyes and heads up the stairs, dragging me with him. “If you misbehave outside I will have to punish you, in front of everyone.”
“Try not liking it.” It’s my turn to roll my eyes.
“I will absolutely enjoy every second of it.” He gives me a look. “I know you will too.” He winks and opens the heavy door at the top of the stairs.
The thick air chokes me. The evil is everywhere. If I were a vampire my fangs would have popped, but being me, my head lifts and I push Constantine from the entryway. “What is that delicious smell?” The mouth-watering taste in the air only lasts a second before it is ruined by the stench of the rest of the dirty city, fires, filth, and rotting food. Adding it to the corrupt humans’ is conflicting. One part of me is sickened by the stench, but the sin eater side of me is licking her lips. “I want some of that,” I mutter, scanning the stinky alleyway for the first evil person to eat.
“Try to keep it in your pants, Rayne.” He doesn't sound like he’s mocking me. He’s too busy scanning the alleyway. “What in the bloody hell have you done to the world, woman?” His words are a whisper. He turns. His eyes are dark but there is a hint of blood red in them. His fangs are popped, longer than I remember seeing them be. “Stay beside me.” It’s the first time I recall seeing this look on his face, in this lifetime.
He is either absolutely panicked or ready to eat everyone.
I know I’m absolutely starved.
He may not like the taste and smell of the world, but I do. It creates a hunger I don’t think will ever be sated.
As Constantine drags me through the streets his grip tightens on my hand. “This is not what my city was.” He shakes his head, turning in a slow circle.
The castle behind us is dark and creepy. It looks like something the evil queen would live in. No. Maleficent. I’m surprised there’s not already a dragon sitting atop it.
The whole place has a fantasy movie feel to it.
There are stains from where fires have occurred, not house fires but marks from attacks. Sieges. The city has a wall around it with dark metal spikes and the odd skull or bloody head for decoration. But this isn’t the Medieval Times Theme Park; this is real. The blood and the taint and the taste of the smoked meat and sewer are real.
A man with a lecherous stare and dark greasy hair gives me a look. His lip lifts as if he’s had a stroke, but he’s trying to smile. His eyes roam my body and the most remarkable thing occurs, I flash my dagger and sneer back.
His eyebrows lift and his eyes trail to Constantine. That's where he shows the fear I can smell all over him, mixing with the sweet scent of whatever wicked deeds he has done. When his eyes meet Constantine’s he cowers, lowering his gaze and skirting past us.
I look at Constantine and jump too. There are veins around his eyes, creating a dark look to his already angry face. “Why do you look like that?”
He swallows hard but it doesn't soften his voice, “I was something else a long time ago, Rayne. The memories are real here. I can still taste the blood of infants and innocents in my mouth.” The way he says it with his thick accent, which might be thicker suddenly, makes me want to kiss him. It’s a weird reaction to someone with bloody veins for eye skin, and yet here we are.
My hands lift, even the one with the dagger, grabbing his jacket and pulling him into me. But I don't kiss the way I should. I don't just feed for the sake of eating. I suck from him so I don't go on a rampage and clean this city of all its sin. I kiss him like I was made to do it.
My free hand grasps at his hair and my daggered hand slips around the back of him, and we mix business with pleasure.
I do feed but it’s the most sensual meal I’ve eaten in centuries.
He wraps himself around me, cupping and lifting and gripping into the kiss. Our mouths slide, tongues caress, and lips dance. We both moan as I inhale things I might not have meant to give up. I feed for so long that I feel full.
He pulls me back then, gasping for breath and looking far more like the Constantine I know. The eye skin is clear and whites of his eyes aren’t blood red. He grins and cocks an eyebrow. “Thanks, I needed that.” His cocky confidence is back.
Seeing it makes me realize I missed it. I adore his confidence. Even when he’s faking it, which I suspect he might be a little.
Our kiss doesn’t go unnoticed. Many eyes from grimy faces avert when I glance around us.
“It’s the pants. They likely think I just kissed a boy. Girls don’t wear breeches.” Constantine takes my hand again and chuckles, towing me into the crowds.
As we make our way along the busy street, I realize the noise levels here are akin to home. Maybe even worse since cell phones were invented. Now we don't actually talk aloud to anyone anymore. “Why’s it so bustling here?” I can’t stop noticing how fast everyone moves.
“Their lives actually depend on them working and getting places. Life here was hard, Rayne.” He pulls me through an arched walkway that leads us out of the city and toward the forest. “We don't really have time to sightsee. We need to hope and pray Lucifer hasn't found Maggie yet.”
There’s not really much I recall from being Maggie before Constantine came along. I remember her adoration for him. I remember her believing he had rescued her. I remember the crushing blow it was when she and Ellie discovered that Constantine’s rescuing her had been orchestrated.
I too hate the memory of learning that and the feelings that come with it. I push them away and let him lead me through the busy city. I can’t even really focus on one aspect of it all; there’s too much to see. It’s like a movie set.
As we leave the city the delicious smell tapers off. The forest doesn't smell evil the way the city did, but his hand still holds mine.
“Did you like living here?” I ask after a while.
“I did.”
“Why?” I can’t imagine being cold and dirty all the time.
“Well, for starters you could kill someone and toss them over the bridge down the road and no one was the wiser. If someone came looking for them, you shrugged and said you hadn’t seen them in ages, not since you’d heard they were planning a trip west.” He glances back at me and grins. “And I liked the simplicity of it all. Men were men. We went hunting and rode horses and seduced women—who by the way were easily persuaded into my bed and not one of them cared if they had a husband. The morals of the modern-day person are perplexing to me.”
My cheeks flush. He never speaks to me about other women, even though these women came into his life well before I did, in any form.
“You’ll bomb a whole country from your couch, treat your body like a garbage can, and stick your face into a screen of some sort until you don't even remember what anyone around you looks like, but God forbid you have a bit of fun with another man. Maybe the world would be a better place if people weren’t so stuck in their love.” He rolls his eyes and trudges on through the forest.
“Look at you, solving all the world’s problems with a bit of polygamy.”
“No one my age thinks polygamy is a good idea. More than one wife is the very definition of insanity.” He chuckles and I realize we’re different. I even sound different.
I don't know if it's the forest air or the fact we’re in the Dark Ages, but something about us both is lighter.
His handsome face and dark eyes make it easy to find him appealing and attractive, but the fact I know a part of me loves him makes everything else complicated.
He sniffs the air, pausing. “This just doesn't feel right. I don't know if she lives here anymore.” He looks back, giving me a look. “What are we going to do about that? If we can’t find her?”
“The other two found me.” I sniff the air and try to connect with Maggie. “You’re right. This doesn't feel right. I don't think she’s here. I feel like we should walk south.” I point to the right.
“How did you know it was south?”
“I don’t know. I just do. We need to go south and stay on the path. But we shouldn’t go back to the castle or be near towns.”
He raises an eyebrow. “I’ve never known you to tell directions before.” He pulls his hand from mine and folds his arms, staring in the direction I’ve said. “South, huh?”
“I think so.”
“The thing is, the Van Helsings live south of here. Quite close too.” He bites his lip. “Is it possible she’s there already?” He asks a question I suspect he knows the answer to.
“I think we have to assume Lucifer is becoming aware that things are not happening the way God told him they would. He must be fairly angry by now.” I wince. “I’ve killed both of his daughters well before they were able to take the evil he created. Something he was told would happen. He must think his God has gone back on his word.”
“And if anyone loves to be angry, it’s Lucifer.” He rolls his eyes. “So how do we suppose he’s changed it?”
“Cozied up to the Van Helsings in an attempt to ensure Maggie is sacrificed?” I don't have a clue, but it’s my best guess.