Cursed by Diamonds (A Dance with Destiny Book 1)

by JK Ensley

  Jenevier then walked to Vareilious’s slumped form and tenderly kissed each closed eyelid before quietly leaving her home.

  When the brilliant sunlight hit her lovely face, she threw open her arms and released a bone-shattering scream. A scream so feral, so bestial, it split the very ground where she stood.

  The two heartbroken warriors raced for the door, but were blocked by a giant ball of whipping blue flames. Within it… stood Vashti.

  “Maiden! Angel of God, hear me now!”

  Vashti slowly turned her radiant face toward Valadrog. Her flaming ruby eyes were now vacant. Her voice was no longer enticing and lovely. The sound spewing from her beautiful angelic lips was now guttural and barbaric, as if pulled forth from the very pits of hell.

  “Do not hinder me, old man. Leave me in peace.”

  “You will destroy yourself if you leave this city, Vashti. God is love, not hatred.”

  “Do not pretend to speak for God, Warrior. I too know God. You believe me an abomination. I can see it in your eyes. But I say to you now, Valadrog. God is not only love and forgiveness, no. God is also vengeance. Look upon the avenging Angel of God and know that I am a creature by His own hand.”

  “Jenevier!” Varick’s angelic voice was filled with pain and fear. “Please. Please don’t go. Do not leave me. You swore never to leave me, never to leave Alzeen.”

  Vashti took pity on the valiant warrior and turned to face him. The swirling azure flames dissipated from about her. The pure radiant beauty of the ethereal Angel she had become was truly astounding, terrifyingly exquisite.

  “Warrior, brother of my heart, Jenevier is no longer here. She loved too much. She cared too much. Her precious little soul cannot bear the strain of this tumultuous life. Do not halt my departure with promises of love and devotion. Love is not my purpose.”

  “What do you mean, she is gone?” Vareen’s voice was kind and gentle as she approached the awesome Angel. “Vashti, how can the mask live without the soul?”

  The Angel turned to face the woman proper. The wise seer tried desperately to sooth away the coming pain and destruction she had only just witnessed within a horrid vision.

  “Vashti, I have seen what becomes of the world once you have been loosed upon it. Justice will no longer reign. You will execute the innocent alongside the damned. Temperance and forgiveness will fade, and love will soon follow. You were created to be a volatile and deadly creature with but one purpose. God placed you within a pure and loving heart for a reason, Vashti. Think upon it, Angel. If the chains that bind the two of you are broken, all innocence will be lost.”

  “But, Vareen…” The demonic voice slowly faded as Vashti tried to reason with the graceful seer. “Who will save those babies? Who will destroy the putrid dogs who abuse them? Tell me. Who is out there, right now, serving blessed justice?”

  “Yes. But who will hold them while they cry? Who will tenderly kiss away their fears? And tell me who, Vashti, who will gently rock them as they tremble? Was that you, Angel? Was that your arms wrapped tightly about that crumbling little girl? No. That was Jenevier. If you overtake her fragile humanity with your heavenly might, who will be left to do the healing once your justice has been served?”

  Crimson ethereal tears fell from her ruby eyes, clinking upon the ground as bloody stones.

  “Oh, Vareen.” Vashti ran to the regal Vanir and threw her burdened arms around her. “You didn’t see the angelic faces of those precious little babies. I refused to believe my own eyes. Tiny little terrified creatures—clinging to me for fear’s sake, hanging on for dear love. Oh Vareen, I am too young and too little to take care of two giant warriors’ hearts plus the many, many worlds full of precious children.”

  As Vareen held her, rubbing her chiming angelic hair, the golden curls slowly returned as those lethal diamond wings faded away. Vareen looked to the surrounding witnesses and prayed for God to open their stubborn ears, let them hear what this poor woman-child she now held was actually saying… what her tears were truly for.

  “I know, child. I know. But that’s only because of this traumatic day. God chose you well, tiny warrior. In His infinite wisdom, He placed Vashti in the only heart that could contain her. Jenevier, always strive to stay pure. Never let the evils of the world harden the precious gift flourishing within your breast.”

  “I am trying so hard, Vareen. I swear to you I am. I don’t know what will become of me at the end of all things, no. But I know I can never be Jenevier again. All those hopes and dreams… they have been dashed against the stones. I fear to be Vashti. By the gods! My mask is far more powerful than I can bear. Tell me, Vareen. What will happen to me? What shall I become?”

  “Not even I can give you the answers you seek, my child. Sometimes the not knowing is the only guarantee we have of our future. And then, sometimes, people can have the best intentions and the grandest plans. Sometimes, people can start out one way, and then when life gets done with them… they are someone else entirely. I cannot say what life will do to you, child, or what you will be when life gets finished with you. But I can say with all certainty… you will become what it is you decide to become. Each day you make choices. And each and every one of those precious decisions will make up a piece of who you will one day be. Carve these words on your heart, little one. They may prove to be your salvation.”

  Chapter 55

  Floria

  (FLOOR-ee-ah)

  “You snore a little when you sleep.”

  “Ugh, Varick. Go away. Leave me in peace.”

  Jenevier rolled over and smashed a pillow over her head. She felt the covers slowly sliding down just before warm lips brushed across her tummy—one soft little kiss, then another, and another. She moaned.

  “Mmm, I love to hear your moans, Kitten.”

  The deep guttural voice sent her scrambling out of bed as the angelic brother warriors roared with laughter. She hit Vareilious across the head with her pillow.

  “You giant freaks! What are you trying to do to me? Drive me mad?” She whined and fell face down on the bed, muffling her words. “I am sooo sleepy.”

  Vareilious slapped her on the butt. “Get up, Princess.”

  “You have a mission,” Varick added.

  “And you have been paired up with me, sexy kitty. Oh… you’re gonna love it.”

  Vareilious bit her hard on the bottom.

  “Oww, get off me you giant troll! And stop calling me Kitten.”

  “Come here, my love.” Varick pulled her onto his lap. “Are you ready to go again?”

  “Yes. I need to. I want to.”

  “I will miss you terribly. Tell me if Vareilious tries anything.”

  “I’m sitting right here. And besides, if I did try something, she would enjoy it so much your ears would never hear of it. Just think about it, Brother. You heard how I made her moan with but a few well-placed kisses. Imagine how she would scream if I used all my talents. And believe me, Kitten. I am very talented.”

  He grabbed her foot then and started sucking her toes.

  “Eww,” she groaned. “Varick, make him stop.”

  “He is only playing, my love. You know that better than anyone. What would we do with him if he acted any differently? Besides, lovely Angel, I trust no warrior more than Vareilious to keep you safe. Even if he is vile and inappropriate.”

  *****

  As Jenevier was making ready to leave her home to answer her summons, she noticed a red silk bag upon her nightstand. She smiled as she slowly opened the unexpected gift.

  Vittorio silently watched from her window. The moment that elated smile crossed her lips, his heart became whole once more.

  Ahh… there’s my wee darlin’.

  He had saved the elegant little gift for the next time he needed strength—sustenance for his soul. This was the one item she had unknowingly asked for the same day she had acquired her lovely red dress.

  Put it on, Lass, he thought anxiously. I need tae see it in yer curls.
<
br />   The one thing Vittorio now craved above all was her utter happiness. He could no longer breathe until he witnessed her joy.

  Jenevier gasped. In her hands was a lovely golden hair stick with deep red rubies stringing elegantly from one end. An unstoppable smile lit up her face as she carefully twisted her hair around her beautiful new treasure.

  I love you, Vittorio, she thought happily. I don’t deserve you, no. But I love you, all the same.

  Renewed, the elated warrior spread his wings and headed toward the waiting clouds.

  *****

  Vareilious was only with her for the first three missions. Then, he was summonsed elsewhere and only paired up with her a few more times throughout the seemingly never-ending summonses.

  Many different warriors came and fought by her side during those violent, blood-filled months. Every mission was different and each Vanir’s talents were used wisely. Shown by God, seen by Vareen, and summoned by Valadrog—they all worked in unison as one fluidly perfect, yet deadly entourage.

  Jenevier spent months in the field, traveling through many different layers of the universe. About half her assigned missions were carried out alone. It wasn’t so bad. At least, not as bad as she’d thought it would be. The other half of her missions afforded her the privilege to work with and get to know almost every Vanir warrior in Vanahirdem.

  She hadn’t seen her sparkly domed house in over eight months when she received a summons for aid near Haven on the fourth layer.

  Her life before the Vanir was a foggy, distant memory. Her once carefree existence was now completely foreign to her. Jenevier had traveled from one end of this vast universe to the other and through so many different layers that when the summons for the mission in Haven came through, it didn’t trigger even the tiniest spark of remembrance.

  Her life now was blood and duty. Each day and each mission collided one with the other until all she knew was death.

  She met up with Vinika on the outskirts of the normally happy little town. Apparently a few straggling scoundrels had banded together. They were now kidnapping, terrorizing, and horribly violating young maidens. Vinika investigated the incidents in Haven and reported back to Jenevier all the atrocious acts performed upon the last maiden taken. These men did not kill their fragile victims, no. Be that as it may, the broken young women now wished for sweet death.

  “Better that than the lifetime of degrading memories they’re now forced to carry about within their hearts,” she mumbled to herself.

  “Yes, and it appears another virginal young maiden, not yet eighteen, has gone missing. Just last night,” Vinika said, finishing her report. “Her mother is in shambles, barely able to speak through her tears. The older sister has closed down their little family inn. Seems she has gone off in search of the wicked vermin herself.”

  “All alone?”

  “Yes. Fear not, Princess. She isn’t a tiny babe or anything. I’d say she wouldn’t be much younger than your human age.”

  “Yes, dear sister. But as a mere human… I wouldn’t stand a chance against one or two depraved men.” She growled then. “Much less a whole group of the vile bastards.”

  “True, true. But as I said, fear not. She travels with a man now. He met her before I left Ousten. It seems by all viable accounts; the men live near this town. This is their base, yet they travel far and wide in search of their innocent prey. They have stolen maidens from many days away. Yet, the pitiful girls are always found and rescued whilst roaming the streets of Haven.”

  “Very well, then.” She snorted out a laugh. “So, now I have to remember not to kill the sister and her gentleman escort.”

  Vinika cocked her head sideways and looked at her ferocious counterpart, furrowing her brows.

  “Hmm, that doesn’t seem to be something you should laugh about, Sister.”

  “Apologies Vinika. It was but jest. Sorry. I’ve spent way too much time with Vareilious and Vittorio. Their vile ways are rubbing off on me.”

  “Lucky you.” Vinika shrugged her shoulders. “Vareilious may be vile and childish most of the time, but his deep voice and that angelic body of his…” She shivered. “He makes me sweat.”

  Jenevier laughed. “Truly? Huh. To me, all Vanir look pretty much the same. Small differences, yes, but perfectly matched beauty beyond compare.”

  “Well now, that sounds sort of racist, if you ask me.”

  Jenevier raised one eyebrow and stared at her giant sister, waiting for the other woman to explain. She didn’t.

  “Racist? What does that mean?”

  Vinika chuckled. “I’m not real sure myself. It’s a word people use on layer eight. Vareilious was telling me about it. Apparently when someone says a whole group of people look alike, or do the same thing, or act a certain way, other people call them racist.”

  “Is it bad?”

  “I know not. I mean, Vanir do all have the same heavenly features. Just like all ninth layers look like ninth layers, fifth layers look like fifth layers, and you look like all these tiny maidens running around here.”

  “Agreed,” she mused. “The real differences are on the inside.”

  “You miss being like them? Do you miss your human life?”

  Jenevier shrugged her shoulders, crinkling up her nose. “Ehh, sometimes, I guess. I mean, it would be nice to go back to not knowing how evil your neighbors can be. Just to live and let live. No thoughts of harm.”

  Vinika chuckled. “Yes, I know, right? But the truth of the matter is, it was never really like that for you, either. You were just naïve, little sister.”

  “Perhaps you’re right. I haven’t found a perfect place throughout all the layers.” She turned a wry smile to her old friend. “So, Vinika darling, I never knew you entertained such deliciously wicked thoughts about Vareilious.”

  Both warriors shared a guilty laugh.

  Jenevier smiled and tossed her hair back. “Perhaps I will tell him of these lurid fantasies of yours. When I finally get to go home, that is.”

  “You do such, and I will strangle your tiny little neck.”

  “Pffts. Vinika, my dear, I am the Executioner.” She rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. “Do you think it wise to threaten me thusly?”

  The giant Vanir mirrored her playfully arrogant stance. “Yes, well, Executioner, I know where you live and I know when you sleep.”

  “Point taken,” she grumbled.

  They shared another laugh before Vinika made her way back to Vanahirdem, leaving Jenevier to take care of the bloody part.

  *****

  She strolled into the shabby little tavern, miles from the edge of Haven, and sat down at the bar.

  “What’ll it be, Ma’am?”

  The barkeep was as filthy and smelly as was the inside of this hopelessly decrepit hovel.

  “How is it you are so far from town?” She narrowed her gaze, looking around the bar. “It seems to me, business would fare much better closer to the bustling crowds.”

  “Seems that way to you, does it? Well, ya see, this here is a drinking bar. Not an information bar. I don’t carry on no tiresome chitchat with nosey little ladies.” He snorted then. “You ain’t from around here, are ya?”

  “Seems like that to you, does it? Well, I don’t answer questions from nasty old barkeeps.” She cocked a single eyebrow, smirking.

  The six or seven drunken patrons sprinkled around the place took no notice of their bickering exchange.

  “I’m afraid I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, little lady. Before you end up going and gettin’ yourself hurt.”

  “Not before I ask a few things of you, little man.” Jenevier flashed her flaming ruby eyes at the contemptible louse, gaining his full attention. “Tell me. Where are the men who are raping young maidens? I know they were recently in this bar. Their stench remains. Answer me truthfully and you will live. Lie to me, and they will never be able to scrape all your rancid entrails from these putrid walls.”

  She smiled innocentl
y at him, batting her eyelashes. Then she heard his water spill out on the dusty wooden floor.

  “Oh dear, a grown man, wetting himself? How very attractive. You now have only four teensy weensy little seconds before your guts are left hanging from these filthy rafters.”

  “Two… its two-two miles south in an old hunting cabin owned b-by owned by the King,” he stuttered. “It’s b-been abandoned f-for years. They hang… th-they h-hang out there.”

  “Gratitude. Now, was that so hard?” Jenevier started to leave but turned back to the trembling man. “Oh yes, and one… more… thing.” She narrowed her gaze. “Why that saintly woman stays with you is beyond me. But if you so much as raise your hand to her or that beautiful little boy again, I will be here before the beating has ended. And know this, little man. If you ever see me again in your wretched life, these will be the very last set of eyes you ever look upon.”

  She flashed her ethereal rubies one more time for emphasis, smiled sweetly, and then left. On her way out the door, she nearly ran over a pleasant looking young couple.

  Hmpft. I never would have picked them out as regulars in a rotting old dump like this, she thought.

  The young man froze with his first quick glimpse of the beautiful, curl-crown woman he had almost knocked down.

  Where have I—

  “What is it, Hun?”

  “I-I’m not sure. But I could have sworn I knew that woman from somewhere—the one with all the hair.”

  The couple turned and watched her until she disappeared into the darkness.

  “I don’t think so, Darling. No one we know would patronize a rat hole like this.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He continued to stare out into the quiet darkness. “It’s just… there was something about her.”

  “Perhaps she stayed at the Fuzzy Muzzle before. Tons of people come and go. I bet you’ve seen her there.”

  “Yes… perhaps.”

  “Now, come on,” she said, tugging on his arm. “Let’s see what we can find out about Floria.”