Captured In Sin

by Devlin Chase

  In the lounge Marabella moved around the room, switching off lights she didn’t need to see in the dark.

  At the closed bedroom door she paused, her hand hovering over the veneered surface.

  “Sleep well Ligata,” she murmured, too low to be overheard.

  Then she resumed her position on the couch, her eyes trained on the window and the lurking darkness beyond the glass.

  ***

  Darien was standing in the den when Galena announced that the Obscura had arrived and been seated in the formal living room.

  So when he entered the tastefully furnished room he’d had to reign in his surprise when he saw who was perched elegantly on the edge of an overstuffed sofa.

  “Mother.” He stepped forward, his hands reaching for hers, as she rose to her feet.

  “Darien,” she smiled, revealing fangs that were fully extended. Marguerite had always preferred to display her assets rather than hiding them away on the off chance a human might see her. As such she’d chosen to remain in shadows all her life, opting to live with the Council for the past decades.

  Darien turned to the other council representative and bowed deeply. The man stood, returning the gesture. He looked to be in his early forties, so his Decline had only begun within the past twenty years or so.

  Turning back to face his mother, however, Darien could see that the months since he’d last seen her had brought many changes. Her Decline was passing rapidly, her face gaunt and her hands covered with skin so thin it seemed translucent. Always a slender woman, with a regal bearing, she now looked frail and brittle, although the hands with which she held onto Darien were still surprisingly strong.

  “You look well Mother,” he said automatically, knowing it would be what she wanted to hear.

  The woman nodded her head to the side, accepting the compliment before releasing his hands and gesturing to the cushions next to her. Her hair, still dark and shiny, was pulled back tightly from her face, held in an elegant twist with pins that glittered under the lamplight.

  Tonight she was dressed without her usual flamboyant style, wearing a long dark skirt and a fitted jacket that clung to her thin frame. Diamonds glittered at her ears although she no longer wore the diamond pendant he could always remember hanging around her neck. He wondered what had happened to it and, while she saw his eyes dip to her throat, she offered no explanation.

  This was, of course, not a social visit and she was quick to get their meeting underway. “Claude has come to oversee the building of another of our homes, in Cape Town.”

  She gestured to her companion who merely nodded, his face pinched and severe, although he managed a small flicker of animation as Galena entered the room, rolling a tray laden with tea and small sandwiches.

  “You seem to have taken well to South Africa,” Marguerite smiled at Galena, though it was as bereft of emotion as her greeting to her son had been. She’d become distant since Darien’s father had passed and, it seemed, her time with the Obscura had only made her more so.

  Galena smiled. “I find the climate here quite agreeable, yes. Thank you.”

  Darien was surprised that the obligatory ‘My lady’ had not been tagged onto the end of her response; but Galena had always maintained great control in their house, and she was family.

  Marguerite managed a tight smile before turning back to Darien. The pleasantries were over and it was time to get down to business. “So you have made contact with the first Ligata, I hear.”

  Darien nodded, careful about how much to reveal. Marguerite had not been present at the second Council meeting so he could only assume that she was not a member of the shadowy Council he’d met with.

  Over the course of the night Marguerite and Claude drilled him on everything that had happened since he’d made his presence known to the human. He’d replied as honestly as possible, only avoiding the issue of his personal relationship with the woman, although it was evident that the Council knew about that as well. But their primary concern was how far he and the others had progressed in learning the identities of the five remaining Ligata. On that he’d had little to report and it was clear to see that they were not impressed.

  They asked about Jacen and, once he’d briefed them on what had happened at the club and Catherine’s apartment, he burned once more with the desire to tell them to drop the bullshit and speak the truth.

  With the sun mere hours from rising Darien had gotten around to discussing his own needs, trying to gather as much information as possible.

  He’d requested the assistance of a few more Wakelings and, after Claude agreed, he was assured that two more would arrive within the next few days.

  Finally Claude stood, leaning down to offer his hand to Marguerite, and Darien could no longer contain his frustration.

  “Did Jacen create the Ligata?” His voice was tempered with bitterness as Marguerite turned innocent eyes up to her son.

  “Now why would you think such a thing?” Her voice might have sounded charming but her eyes were narrowed with suspicion.

  Darien smiled wryly. “Because I’m your son and, as such, don’t take too well to being lied to.”

  There. The words were out. He watched as her lips thinned and her eyes turned to ice.

  “Be very careful, Darien…” Her voice was low and controlled, but the warning in her words was clear.

  Darien, however, was past the point of heeding her words. The woman he loved had turned away from him because she was so scared of the power that was beginning to build inside her; and he could do nothing to help her unless he learnt the truth.

  “Let me tell you my theory, Mother.”

  Claude took a step toward him but Darien pinned him with such a glare of pure malevolence that he stepped back and closer to Marguerite instead.

  “I think that Jacen engineered things so that the bloodline of the Ligata became pure once more. So that he could fulfill the Saligian Prophecy.”

  “Nonsense!” Marguerite spat out, her wan face becoming paler. “We haven’t gone by that name for centuries; it’s nothing more than an insult!”

  The air in the room cooled so quickly that Darien could feel it hit him like a wall of ice from across the room.

  “An insult? How can you say that?” He gaped at his mother, who raised her chin in defiance.

  “Look at us, mother. We’re bored and disinterested in life; we accumulate more wealth than we could ever spend; we kill and murder indiscriminately and we take anything our hearts desire, no matter what the cost.”

  His temper cooled as his mother stared at him, aghast. “I think we’ve earned every reason why the Church branded us as Saligia, and we’ve lived it every night since then.” He took a deep breath. “So yes, I think Jacen created the Ligata to fulfill the prophecy. In fact, I think he’s trying to bring balance back into our world and might not be the enemy you’ve led us to believe.”

  Now it was Marguerite’s turn to flare.

  “Seven divine virtues to temper the seven deadly sins?” She took a step toward Darien, her fury evident as she pointed at him. “It’s not a prophecy Darien. It’s just a myth, do you hear me? A myth!” She turned and gathered up her coat and purse.

  “I will not believe that we have been cursed like this. We are not the deadly sins and I will not hear you speak of it any further!”

  She was still glaring at Darien when the voice reached them from the doorway.

  “Oh for God’s sake, why won’t you just tell him the truth? For once, before the Decline takes you from this world, tell your son the truth.”

  Marguerite spun around and Darien could see Galena standing in the doorway, her hands fisted on her hips and her eyes blazing with anger.

  Marguerite hissed and bared her fangs at the other woman, who glared back unaffected.

  “How dare you speak to me this way?”

  Galena gave her a bitter smile. “I’m speaking this way because I think it’s time that things were put right; that some order be restored i
nto the world we know.”

  She jabbed a finger up at the older woman. “And because when you dragged me off to the Council’s mansion you gave me far too much time to figure things out; time I used to study the records the Council never lets the others see.”

  Marguerite gasped, but Galena wasn’t finished. “But mostly because I’m tired of being your dirty little secret.”

  She pointed over toward Darien, who was staring at her in shocked amazement.

  “That man over there has done your bidding for most of his life and I’ve looked on throughout all of it. It’s time it stopped and he was given a chance at the life the Ligata could offer him.” The diminutive woman stepped into the room. “He’s my family and I will do everything I can to protect him from your deceptions and your maneuverings from this night on.”

  Darien was still gaping when the last word nailed him like spike through the chest.

  “Mother.”

  Marguerite let out a scream and lunged for Galena, bloodlust turning her eyes an incandescent reddish gold. Both he and Claude moved to pull her back, pinning her flailing arms as she reached out, her hands twisted like claws as she screeched.

  Holding his mother tightly Darien stared at Galena, seeing how solidly she stood her ground, and knowing what she said was the truth.

  All his life he’d been led to believe that this half vampire-half human had been the product of his father’s indiscretions but now the truth was out, glaringly obvious in the way that his mother was willing to kill to keep her secret hidden.

  His mother had taken a human lover, her child brought up in their family as a Wakeling. His father must have known, but remained silent, allowing everyone to assume that Galena was his half-breed child.

  Marguerite’s struggles became weaker and he finally let her go. Her hair had come undone and was hanging around her shoulders, her clothes disheveled.

  As she straightened herself, smoothing down her clothes and hair with shaky hands, she turned to glare at Claude. “You will say nothing of this, to anyone.”

  Claude nodded, handing her the purse and coat she’d dropped.

  Then she swept past Darien, offering no words of comfort or even goodbye. Galena had moved inside the room so the doorway was empty as Marguerite turned and leveled her gaze on Darien.

  “I think you’re wrong about the prophecy and the importance of these humans you seem to care so much for. But do as you wish. And considering she,” Marguerite spat as she jabbed a finger in Galena’s direction, “seems to know so much about the Obscura’s archives, you can go to her for council in the future.”

  With that she turned and marched out of the room, reaching the door and waiting impatiently for Claude to catch up and open the inner door for her. As he passed Darien, Claude shot him a hard look even as he held out a small square of paper in the younger male’s direction. Darien took it, knowing it would be from the shadow Council; Claude had been the Council member who had escorted him into the catacombs beneath the mansion that fateful night.

  As Claude moved quickly to open the door for Marguerite, Darien open the folded note and glanced at the elegant lettering.

  Two words.

  A name.

  Darien reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his cigarettes, hearing the outer vestibule door open and then close again.. He lit up, surprised when Galena didn’t rip him a new one like she usually did when he smoked in this room. But, then again, it had been one hell of a crazy night.

  “So, which one is she?’ He asked softly.

  Galena turned to face him, one eyebrow arched.

  “Huh. I kind of expected you to ask which one you were first.” She smiled, as if considering something that pleased her. “I think Catherine is Charity.”

  Darien stared at her, not sure how all of this prophecy stuff worked. “And me?”

  “I do believe that you are Greed.”

  He stared down at the glowing tip of his cigarette until he felt her take hold of his arm, hustling him toward the kitchen; the Galena he’d always known back in charge again.

  “Come on, I’ll make us some coffee and tell you as much as I know.”

  Chapter 6

  By ten o’clock the next morning Catherine was worried. By eleven she was frantic and by midday she felt like she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

  Frankie had failed to arrive at nine o’clock as promised; and, considering he was the most punctual person she knew, this was worrying.

  When he didn’t answer his cell phone and the receptionist at the veterinary clinic told her she wasn’t expecting him before the afternoon, Cat started getting edgy, a knot building in her stomach.

  By eleven she was in her car and driving over to her brother’s apartment and it was what she’d found there that had threatened to push her over the edge.

  To say that there were signs of a struggle would have been an understatement; to say that some really bad shit had gone down here would be more accurate.

  Furniture had been tossed around the room, a sofa literally broken in half in the corner. The coffee table was crushed flat and virtually everything that hadn’t been nailed to the floor had been either upturned or flung about like a child’s toy.

  A faint mewling drew her to the bedroom and she found Odin under the bed. After a bit of coaxing she managed to get the terrified cat into her arms, where it huddled pitifully against her chest.

  She dialed Frankie’s cell phone again and let it ring into voicemail, telling him not to come home if he’d been out all night as it looked like he’d been robbed. She told him she had Odin and would take him to a friend’s house. She asked him to call her as soon as he got the message and then hung up.

  She found Odin’s travel box and put him inside, taking one last look around the devastated apartment. This wasn’t a robbery and the fact that Frankie hadn’t shown up this morning meant he hadn’t been out with friends last night. The gnawing ache in the pit of her stomach told her that Jacen had come for her brother and, if that was the case, then there was only one place for her to go.

  She drove to the house in Brooklyn, arriving at the innocuous front façade after a few wrong turns, buzzing the intercom at the gate and waiting for what felt like forever until Galena answered, the gate swinging inward the moment she announced herself.

  Parking her car close to the front door, she took the cat box and headed straight for the elderly woman who was already holding the outer door open for her. Cat entered without even a greeting and, by the look on Galena’s face, she knew that the older woman knew, or could sense, that something devastating had occurred.

  Once inside she saw that the others were up, milling between the rooms. To see so many huge, muscular men in one place was disconcerting and Cat slid past with barely a greeting until she was in the kitchen.

  “What’s going on?”

  Galena was filling the kettle at the sink and there was a stack of towels on the table, together with a large stainless steel bowl and…a suture kit.

  Cat went cold and her knees began to buckle until a strong arm wrapped itself around her shoulders and led her over to a chair. Conrad’s face swam into view, concern accentuating the hard lines of his face.

  “Catherine, are you alright?”

  Cat nodded as her head cleared, feeling the nausea give way to the shakes.

  Galena pushed Conrad out of the way and knelt in front of her.

  “Honey, put your head down between your knees until the dizziness passes.”

  Cat shook her head. “I’m okay now.”

  She sat up straighter in the chair. “I need to speak to Darien. I think Jacen’s taken Frankie.”

  Conrad and Galena shared a look that sent a shiver up Cat’s spine and she nearly did have to put her head down as another wave of nausea rolled over her.

  “Oh God, please no…”

  Galena wrapped her arm around Cat’s shoulders. “Relax honey. It’s not Frankie we have these supplies out for. They’re for
Angelo.”

  Darien strode into the kitchen, a tray in his hands that was covered with a towel stained red with blood. As he glanced up and saw Cat surrounded by Galena and Conrad his eyes flared as his jaw went slack. The trey clattered to the table as he moved around the table with lightning speed, Conrad and Galena wisely getting out of his way to avoid being pushed aside as he swept her up in his arms.

  His body was trembling and his breathing ragged as he gripped her shoulders and stared down at her, his eyes burning.

  “Are you alright?”

  Cat nodded before she was dragged against his chest once more and, despite her anxiety, she smiled. The bed in her apartment might be foreign to her now but this felt like home.

  She pressed her head into his hard chest, smelling his scent. “I think Jacen took Frankie.”

  She could feel Darien nod, his chin above her head. “I know. Angelo got hurt pretty bad trying to stop him.”

  “Will he be alright?”

  Darien chuckled. “We’re vampires remember? We treated his wounds quickly so he should be fine by tomorrow night.”

  Cat nodded, although knowing Angelo would be okay didn’t stop her from worrying about her brother.

  “Do you know where Jacen might have taken him?”

  Darien shook his head. “No, not yet.” He saw the tears that threatened to fall from Cat’s eyes. “But don’t worry. We’ll find him.”

  Riley walked in, carrying an armful of bloody towels. As he saw Catherine he tried to shield them from her.

  “Sorry,” he muttered as he moved to dump them in a garbage bag next to the back inner door.

  “He’s patched up and resting,” he said as he passed Darien, “but he wants to see you.”

  A plaintive cry drew their eyes to the cat box Catherine had placed near the door.

  “Frankie’s cat.” She explained.

  Riley got down on his haunches and peered through the mesh front of the box. Odin moved toward the finger he poked through the mesh and Riley smiled as the cat licked his skin.