Dark Becoming (An Ema Marx Novel Book 3)

by J. D. Brown

  “I wasn’t hungry.” I twirled around to face her and cut right to the chase. “We need to talk. You’re being lied to.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I don’t know how much time we have before Prince Jesu comes back, so I’m just going to say this.”

  Her dark gaze went to door. “How did you know—?”

  “Ecoute!” She really was a bad vampire. I sucked in a breath and sighed. “Ema, we are friends, no?”

  She shrugged. “Sure. You helped save Naamah.”

  “Then believe me when I say zat I am telling you zis as a friend. Jesu has told me about his premonition a dozen times before. Zee girl in his vision, zee one who battles his father, she looks so much like you zat even I thought it was you. When I first saw you in zee hotel, I knew immediately why Naamah hired me to train you.”

  Ema’s brow pinched in confusion. “Naamah hired you?”

  Wow, they were lying to her more than I realized. I leveled my gaze with hers. “You do know about the premonition, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she said. She closed her eyes and massaged her temple. “That’s why I’m here.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  Her hand stilled and she blinked at me. “I don’t understand, Bridget. What are you talking about?”

  “Like I said, Jesu’s told me about his premonition dozens of times. Zee girl in his vision… she is always human.”

  She glared, her lips pressed into a thin line. “What’s your point?”

  I scanned her from head to toe for effect. “Ema, you haven’t been a vampire for long, but you are definitely a vampire nonetheless. Not a human.”

  “Vampyre,” she sighed.

  It was my turn to be confused. “What did you say?”

  “I’m a vampyre, not a vampire. Maybe Jesu got the details wrong. I mean it was, what, a thousand years before he met you? He could have forgotten a few things by then.”

  “No.” I shook my head, trying not to be derailed by the news that Ema was a vampyre. That explained why her sire wasn’t around—she didn’t have one. Yet the fact remained; she wasn’t human. “Vampires never forget zee details of their sire’s command. He’s painted a portrait of her. I’ve seen it. She looks very much like you, I admit, but you are not her. Zis is not your destiny.”

  Worry etched the wrinkles in her upturned brow. Ema looked away and shook her head. Then she squared her shoulders and faced me. “I don’t believe in destiny. Our futures are shaped by the decisions we make today. Two months ago, I made the stupid mistake of following Leena into the Underworld to kill Apollyon and free Jalmari. I didn’t know what I was doing, and I shouldn’t have gone, but I did. Now Leena’s dead, and both Jalmari and Apollyon are after me.”

  “Because zey think you’re her. Don’t you understand? Everyone thinks you’re her. Even zose who know you’re not her want you to be. They want it so badly, they are willing to sacrifice you. To let you take zee fall. You don’t have to do zat, Ema. Zis can all end if you just walk away.”

  Her gaze widened in dread. “Who else thinks I’m not the one?”

  I lifted my chin. “Maria and Naamah. They’ve been using you zis entire time. They’ve led you to zis when it’s not even your burden to bear.”

  Ema frowned at the floor. “I think you should go, Bridget.”

  “I’m telling you zee truth, Ema. Maria admitted it all. She is using you.”

  “Maria wouldn’t do that.”

  I scoffed and placed a hand on my hip. “Really? She has zee biggest motive of zem all. Apollyon tortured her and Naamah before manipulating them into pledging their allegiance.”

  Without looking at me, Ema went to the door, opened it, and then jerked her chin toward the hall in a get-out motion.

  This idea wasn’t going to plan. I underestimated her loyalty to Maria and overestimated her sense of self-preservation. Didn’t she realize that if she really cared about Jesu, then she had to go?

  That’s it.

  I narrowed my gaze, marched up to her, and slammed the door shut. Ema’s breath hitched and she scowled, but I didn’t care. I was on a mission to save the man I loved.

  We loved.

  “Look,” I said. “If you want to go through with this, fine. Ce sont vos funérailles. It’s your funeral. But don’t drag Jesu with you.”

  “Jesu’s a big boy,” Ema growled. “He can make his own choices.”

  “Zat’s just it, he can’t.”

  Ema’s gaze shifted and she drew a breath. “If I’m not the right girl,” she said, while pushing past me, “then he’s doing all this out of his own free will. That kills you, doesn’t it? Knowing he still chooses me over you.”

  My brow furrowed. Cocky words for such a little brat. “You don’t get it. Since you’re a vampyre, I shouldn’t expect you to. Jesu has been obsessed with some girl zat, as far as we know, doesn’t exist. Try and imagine, if you can, what zat might be like; a two-thousand-year-long search for a needle in a haystack. He can never stop searching. It’s a curse. Did you ever stop to think zat maybe he wants so badly to be relieved from zat curse zat he’s convinced himself you’re the one?”

  She shook her head. “Jesu isn’t crazy.”

  “But zat is zee definition of crazy, isn’t it? Being obsessed with zee same thing, day in and day out? Did he ever tell you why we broke up?”

  Ema’s lip trembled and I knew I was getting somewhere. “N-No.”

  “Jesu said he couldn’t forget about her. He had to find her, and when he did, he had to protect her. He said he couldn’t be with me knowing zat he could never put me first, zat it wasn’t fair because she would always come first to him. How long before he says zee same thing to you? Don’t make zee same mistake I did, Ema. Don’t drag zis out when you already know it can’t last. Walk away, before you both get hurt.”

  “You’re just trying to mess with my mind,” she whispered. “You want me to leave so you can have Jesu.”

  I glared at her and crossed my arms. “You want me to admit zat I’m jealous? Fine, I’ll say it. I hate zee way he looks at you. I hate zee way he touches you. I would give anything to have him feel zat way about me again. But I’m not stupid. Even if he came back to me, zat bitch in his head would still find a way to get between us. You and I are alike, Ema. We could be there for each other. We could be friends. You don’t see it now because you’re new to zee concept of eternity, but mark my words, in a hundred years or so, I’ll be able to say I told you so.”

  Footsteps echoed from the tower stairs, so I ended our chat. I turned on the ball of my heel and walked out the door. The seed of doubt was planted. It would only be a matter of time before she wrote Jesu a Dear John letter and then disappeared.

  Chapter 7

  She’s wrong, I told myself for the umpteenth time. I paced about the room and took several deep breaths, but nothing seemed to quell the doubt seeping under my skin. I wouldn’t have believed Bridget, except that I already had the same suspicion. Jesu told me the girl in his vision was supposed to be human, but he also said he could have been wrong.

  Then again, I’ve seen the painting. Jesu painted a portrait of the girl five-hundred years before I was born. Even I thought she looked like me. Or at least, the way I used to look before I became a vampyre.

  I paused and bit my lip. Jesu didn’t tell me he broke up with Bridget because of his mother’s command. Not in those exact words, anyway. He had said they broke up because he never loved Bridget, that he loved me, even then. But... wasn’t that assuming I was the same girl he saw in his head? Jesu didn’t know me then—I hadn’t existed yet. What if what Jesu had really meant was that he couldn’t love Bridget because of me—‘me’ being mistaken for the girl in his vision?

  Could he really fall in love with someone that only existed in his mind? If he did love her, and I wasn’t her, then did that mean he didn’t really love me? If what Bridget said was true, and I wasn’t the right person, Jesu would eventually realize it. Then what? Bridget was
right about one thing; whether or not Jesu really loved me would be irrelevant if I wasn’t the one. His mother’s command to find and protect the girl in his vision would eventually drive a wedge between us. And if he found her? Well, then she’d always come first to him. Could I live with that? Could I deal with being the second woman in his life?

  Heck, I might even be the third woman, if Bridget sticks around.

  Where did that leave the baby he promised to help raise and protect? Fourth?

  I needed to know if Jesu’s premonitions could be wrong, if there was any margin for error and, if so, how wide? What else could we be wrong about? I lifted a hand to my abdomen and closed my eyes. This is too much. Too many ‘maybes’ and ‘what-if’s’.

  The only thing I knew for certain was the present. Right now, I needed a way to contact Valafar. The rest would come later, after I peed on a stick.

  I decided to calm my nerves first by taking a shower. After I got dressed and pulled a brush through my hair, I went in search of Nikolas’ youngest daughter, Sara. I had no idea where she would hang out at this hour, and the castle was built like a multi-layered labyrinth. I didn’t want to bother anyone, so I went to my secret hidey-hole; a dusty old school room tucked away at the very end of a tightly spaced corridor. Even with vampyre strength, I strained to move the heavy, solid wood door an inch from its frame. I lifted my hands and felt around the pitch-black space until my fingers brushed against the edge of a table. Rows of desks lined the front half of the room. The space must have been used as a home school at some point in the past. It only made sense. All fifteen of Nikolas’ children were born before the concept of public schooling.

  How would my child get an education? Would I be there to walk him to the bus stop on his first day? Would I stick his first homework assignment on the fridge? I never wanted to be a mom, but now that I faced the possibility, I had the absurd desire to do all the things a mom was supposed to do. All the things my mom never did. If I was going to spawn, then I was going to do it right.

  I dragged my fingers from desk to desk, until my hands found the edge of a bookcase. I followed the shelves until I came upon a smooth patch of wall at the end. Dragging my palms along the wall, I lowered onto my knees and reached for the air vent. On the other side of this spot, a hollowed passage ran between the walls of several rooms. I didn’t know how far it went, but I bet this would be faster than searching the castle wing by wing.

  My molecules vibrated as I prepared to phase, then I stopped. Could phasing be bad for the baby? God, this would be so much easier if I just knew for certain. Maria’s on it, I reminded myself. Still crouched, I pulled the metal frame loose and set it aside, glad I left the screws out last time I’d used it. I laid flat on my stomach and inched through the sparse opening. Once inside, I stood and felt around for the wall. I forgot how scary and claustrophobic true pitch-black darkness could be. Rarely, since becoming a vampyre, had I not been able to see with perfect clarity. So I closed my eyes and listened.

  The clang of pots sounded from the kitchen. Gruff male voices spoke in German in Nikolas’ office. Heels clicked against marble from somewhere above. Then it came. Sara’s soft voice hummed a lullaby. Opening my eyes, I levitated so I wouldn’t make any noise, and then floated along the hidden pass, using my hands to navigate the turns and corners while following the sound. Eventually, I came upon another vent in the wall. Candlelight filtered between the narrow slits in the metal frame, illuminating a portion of the floor in the dusty passage. The scent of baby powder and potpourri wafted into my nose. The lullaby sounded familiar, but I couldn’t remember its name. I lowered to my feet and crouched to the ground, hoping Sara wasn’t indecent as I peeked through the vent. I really should have thought this through better. I couldn’t see her from this position on the floor, but as far as I could tell, she was alone, which made what I was about to do only a smidge less embarrassing.

  I knocked on the frame.

  The humming stopped. After a long moment, Sara’s shoes came into view and then she lowered onto her hands and knees. Youthful golden eyes met my partially hindered gaze. “Miss Ema? What are you doing inside the wall?”

  “Trust me, it seemed like a good idea at the time. I can’t explain why, but I don’t want to phase. You wouldn’t happen to have a screwdriver handy?”

  “No, but I have shears.” She stood and disappeared from my line of sight. A moment later, she returned with a pair of heavy-duty sewing scissors. She pressed the tip into one of the screws and then twisted the handle. After all four screws came undone, the frame easily snapped off and I crawled out.

  “Thanks,” I said while dusting loose granite from my pants. I took in Sara’s room with one fell sweep. Pink daisy wallpaper lined the vicinity. An autographed Beatles poster hung in a glass frame over the fireplace. Frank Sinatra records piled high on her desk, next to an RCA 45. All that was missing was a rotary phone.

  “Can I help you with anything else?” Sara asked.

  I plastered on a polite smile and faced her. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about incubi, would you?”

  She folded her hands together and glanced to the side. “My father would have briefed you, had you stayed.”

  I pointed my index finger at the ceiling in a hold-on-a-minute gesture. “That was totally Jesu’s fault.”

  She giggled. “Don’t worry. I understand why you would be nervous, signing a document that important.” Sara swayed side to side, as though trying to make up her mind about something, then glanced at me curiously. “Do you really believe Valafar will help you?”

  “Not out of charity,” I said, being honest. “I’m hoping to convince him, but to do that, I need a damn good plan. And to do that, I need information.” I sat on the edge of her bed. There was nowhere else to sit. Every nook and cranny overflowed with little decorative pillows. Sad, lopsided birds spilled from the cross-stitching on the pillow covers. Sara was really bad at her hobby.

  She moved a few deformed blue jays aside and then joined me on the bed, crossing her ankles and folding her hands in her lap in a very ladylike fashion. The habit spoke of her true age. Sixteen-year-olds today did not have the same posture as those born in the 1700s.

  “The legend,” Sara said, “begins with an ancient succubus named Lilitu, or Lilith, as language has evolved it to be. She is said to be the bastard daughter of a Nephilim and an Upioran vampyre, the first of her kind. As Lilith matured, she proved to be far more powerful than any normal vampyre, but her mind was unstable and she began to go mad. Her clan could not control her, so they decided to execute her, but she managed to escape.”

  “Let me guess,” I said. “She grew up and procreated.”

  Sara nodded. “The good news is that the infant mortality rate is high among their kind. The bad news is they live as long as we do. Eventually, a son survived. Valafar. Together, they created an entire tribe of succubi and incubi. A sort of inbreed sub-species, if you will.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Eww.”

  This idea looked more and more impossible. Was the Crone Lilith? She certainly looked ancient, and she was definitely old enough to be Valafar’s mother. How was I supposed to convince Valafar to help me instead of his own mother?

  “How would I even get him to hold still long enough to listen to what I have to say?” I wondered out loud.

  “Adders Tongue.”

  I gave Sara a sidelong glance. “Who’s tongue?”

  “Adders Tongue, silly. It’s an herb. Smoke from burning Adders Tongue acts as a reflector. It makes their powers scatter, like a crystal does to a ray of light, so they aren’t as focused and don’t work as well. It’s temporary and wears off once the smoke clears, but it’ll give you a chance to make him listen.”

  “That’s brilliant. I’ll take it.” Honestly, I’d do anything at this point. If she’d said donkey dung would work, I would’ve dove headfirst into a pile of manure. “Thank you.”

  Sara smiled and nodded.

  I didn�
��t want to look completely insane by crawling back into the vent, so I showed myself to the door and wandered the halls for a while, before finally ending up in the foyer. From there, I was able to point myself in the right direction and climbed the steps to the guest room. My feet slowed in the hallway at the musky scent of damp earth and fresh grass. Jesu waited in my room, and he wasn’t alone. Maria’s scent mingled with his. I stopped in my tracks, not sure what I wanted to do. Bridget’s words crashed to the forefront of my mind.

  “They’ve been using you zis entire time. They’ve led you to zis when it’s not even your burden to bear.”

  Could Maria and Naamah really be using me? Maria had said being a member of the Elite was an honor, but what if the real reason she pushed for it was to get rid of me once Apollyon died?

  I could hear them talking in my room. Jesu kept his tone low, but a strong sternness clipped his words. “She cannot go through with it. You know what it would mean to her future. What she would have to do.”

  “Hush,” said Maria. “She’s in the hall.”

  I startled, then mentally tisked myself. Of course they could sense me. Just as I could sense them. I sucked in a deep breath and then went to the door and opened it. Jesu sat on the foot of the bed. Maria stood next to him. They both looked at me expectantly.

  “Hey,” I said, fishing for some way to break the tension. “I was just hanging out with Sara. Did you know she has a hardcore Sinatra collection? Probably the original records, too.”

  Jesu pulled his lips between his teeth and glanced at Maria. She sighed and then held out her fist, turned it palm-side-up, and opened her fingers. There in her hand sat a pink cardboard box. The label read, Baby Bliss: Early Results Pregnancy Test.

  Chapter 8

  Terror knotted my stomach. My vision tunneled until all I could see was Baby Bliss. The pink store-brand box grew into this fifty-foot soul-sucking monstrosity. The walls closed in and I hyperventilated.

  “I’m having a panic attack.”