I moved in toward her, ready to deal the killing blow. Without warning, her eyes flew open and the scream turned from anguished to furious. She was on me before I knew it, slashing and punching. The weight of her dragged me to the ground and her fingernails, like the claws of an angry bear, dug into the flesh of my stomach. It was all I could do to maintain the mental attack, which I could see was still dealing damage to her deteriorating mind.
Knowing I needed to do something quickly, I reached up with both hands and dug directly into her eyes, blinding her in an instant. She flew to the side, slapping at her ruined eye sockets. I could feel the blood seeping down my stomach as I struggled to stand. It hurt to breathe and I knew Dawn had managed to break a few ribs with the fury of her attack. My left eye was swollen shut, now. With that one good eye on Dawn's terrifying rage and pain, I lumbered around her back and, ignoring the knife-like pain in my chest and stomach, I grasped her head in both hands.
"I'll kill you! I'll kill you!" Dawn repeated over and over. Those words were cut off in mid-statement as I twisted with all of my might. I heard the snapping in her neck and then leapt around to yank her head clean from her body. She fell to one side, dead.
I never wanted any of it and seeing her body disintegrate so rapidly, crumbling to little more than a greasy pile of dust, the weight of the experience rushed up to engulf me. I fell to my knees in pain, the tears falling to mingle with the blood soaking my chest and stomach.
I'm not certain for how long I stood there, before I felt London's hand on my shoulder.
"I'm so sorry, my friend," she whispered, lifting me to my feet. "Let's get you out of here."
I found my blurred vision focusing on the dissipating remains of Dawn, my home of more than a century disappearing along with them. I could never go home. I no longer had a home. I was a refugee and a fugitive. The future was now completely unknown.
* * * * *
I had left London outside of Paris. She had her own mission to move toward. I wasn't certain I was ready or willing to take up that mission yet. Hell, I wasn't even certain if I would survive to do so. I knew the truth now. I knew the man who had been my friend, advisor and mentor for so many decades was now a mortal enemy. Once word reached the Citadel. And, it would. There had been a couple of Parisian witnesses to the carnage beneath the Arc du Triomphe.
There was no doubt in my mind that my former father figure would now be the instigator of my death. The past of my childhood rose up to punch me in the heart once again. As I walked off into my uncertain future, I wore the loss of my lover and the betrayal of my family draped over me like an iron shield. There was only one thing I was certain of, one thing that would be my comfort in the dark nights to follow.
I was a survivor.
CHAPTER 72
PRESENT
I found myself lying in a hammock stretched beneath two palm trees. In a bikini, no less. The ocean waves lapped at the shore some distance away and the sun was well above the horizon. In a frenzy, I shook myself to full awake, slapping at my skin stupidly to put out what I expected to be the fire of death.
Instead, the realization struck me that, not only was I not on fire, I was in perfect health. I could find no scars, none at all. The scar on my left forearm from when Salem had first cut me in sparring class: gone. The scar from when Dusk had broken my other arm, before I was Valensi: gone. There were no scars from the wounds Dawn had inflicted during our duel in Paris. There were no burn scars from the torture I had endured at the hands of the wannabe.
I reached up to touch my face and discovered that my jaw was unmarred. It was then that I realized that my brilliant red hair was back to its normal light brown. A strange bird called from somewhere in the distance and the beach stretched out forever in both directions. I had no idea where I was or why I was alive while clearly in the sunlight.
"Hello!" I called, unable to determine what else to do. As I stood from the hammock, noting how nice I looked in a bikini, I wondered what the hell was going on. I had never once worn a bikini!
"Hello, Paris."
I whirled around at the sound of the voice, only to see Cassandra Dreys standing there in a bikini top and colorful flower-covered sarong. My mouth fell open and no words would come.
"Paris of the High Guard is speechless? Someone call the Times."
"You're dead," I said. "At least, that's what they told me."
"Yes. Now that you mention it, I never got the chance to thank you for your friendship. I will always treasure it. Thank you for helping London, too."
"What the hell is going on? Where am I? This is a dream, right?"
"Have you ever dreamed of beaches before?"
I thought about that. I could not remember having had one single dream about a beach. Ever. I'd been born in Bristol but had never been to the sea. Once I entered the Citadel, it was rare that I ever came close to a beach. Beaches were for day people. That was the one thing I had never been.
"Seriously, Cassie. What the fuck?"
"Think about it," she said, exuding patience beyond reproach. "Take your time."
Why would I be on a beach? Why would I be dreaming? I thought back, trying to mentally retrace my steps and then I remembered the wannabe. I stared at Cassie and my breath caught in my throat. "I'm dead?"
"Not quite," she replied. I could see that I was pretty close, though. "He really did a number on you, girl."
" but," I said, spreading my arms to indicate my entire body, "there aren't any scars."
"Silly girl. This isn't reality. This is so very far from reality."
"Okay, fine. What the hell is it, then? If I'm not dead and this isn't real, what's going on?"
"You're at a crossroads. You should really consider yourself one of the lucky ones. You know, I always admired you."
"Uh, what?"
"Sure," she said, walking further onto the beach, motioning me to follow, which I did. "You never let anyone else define you. Even when you became one of the High Guard, you were always your own person. That was one of the things that Dawn hated so much about you."
"Really?" I sat next to her on the sand, just beyond the reach of the water as it washed toward us.
"Absolutely. Dusk admired you for it, too. At least, that's how I saw it."
"I'm sorry, Cassie, but I'm so confused right now. None of this makes sense. Why am I here?"
"You're here to welcome the darkness."
"What now?"
"You know who you are, Paris. Don't you? You know yourself better than most people know themselves. You know what you are capable of, you know what you want out of life."
"Do I? I think you've got the wrong Paris."
Cassandra reached out and laid a gentle hand on my bare knee. "You do know what you want, even if you refuse to admit it to yourself."
"Okay," I replied. "So, what if I do? That doesn't explain why I'm here. Being here, this place, this is most definitely not who I am."
"True. but this is perfect, neutral ground. An empty slate on which you can begin to rewrite your future. You do want a better future, do you not?"
"Anything is better than what I faced a few minutes ago," I said, staring out at the cresting waves. "My life was pretty much over, wasn't it? One way or another."
"That doesn't have to be, you know. There are options that you've not foreseen."
"You've lost me again. No one can foresee their future."
"Well, that's true. but, you can put yourself on the right path to a future that you hope to achieve. Right?"
I nodded, sort of understanding what she meant. The problem was that I was not your average person. I was not going to be able to flip my life over on a whim. It was simply not in my nature to be some do-gooder or heroine of any sort, if that was what she was driving at. I said as much to her.
"That's not what I mean. You're about to face some more challenges, Paris. You are going to be given choices. The choices you make will either send you down a short and dangerous path or a long an
d very dangerous path."
"Neither of those sounds very appetizing," I said, to which she burst out in laughter. Her giggles left me smiling and I wondered why this dream was so fucking weird. "I suppose death is coming for me no matter what I do?"
"This fascination with death, where did it begin? I'm curious." Cassandra shifted in the sand to face me a little better, folding her legs beneath her. Looking at her now, I realized how much I had missed her. Besides London, Cassandra had been my next best friend.
I thought about her question. "I guess it began the night I ran away from home. After seeing my mother murdered, watching the light leave her eyes, I've always wondered where that light went. For some unknown reason, I've never believed that it just faded away. Our light goes somewhere. I know it does. The last week has only gone on to strengthen that belief." I thought about the pricks that had killed Rae and Doug, the monster. Their spirits, their very essences, did not just disappear. They went somewhere. Whether that was the same place or not, who knows? I just knew that one day, someday, I'd find out for certain.
"So, your travels are far from over, aren't they?"
There was something about the way she had said that. I looked into her eyes and said, "Has that time come? Time to travel on?" She laughed again, a short, effeminate bark.
"No. As a matter of fact, it's time you got back on track. My time is done. Now, it's up to you. I hope you choose well, my friend."
Cassandra smiled and faded from sight as if she had been nothing more than a mirage in the sand. The bright light of midday fell with the sun, down and beyond the horizon, leaving me blind with only the constant sounds of the ocean to accompany me.
I welcomed the darkness.
Behind my eyelids I saw darkness slip away into the dimmest shade of red. Opening my eyes, I saw that I was lying on a bed. My jaw ached. I ran my hand along my face, noting the healing was nearly complete. Still, I could feel the slightly raised line where the bone had been broken. I reached down to my stomach and ran my fingers over the scar tissue, where the wannabe had stabbed and burned me. Carefully, I lifted my head to look down at the wounds. They healing nicely. That was when panic set in.
I sat up too quickly and my world swam in a dizzying circle. Bracing my hands on the edge of the bed, I closed my eyes to allow myself some semblance of equilibrium. I was still dressed in my jeans and my bra had been replaced. I remembered the final moments with the wannabe and pulled the cup away from my breast. The scarring would take years to fade completely, but it was fully healed. As much damage as had been done by that little psychopath, I knew that this much healing could only mean one thing: Valensi intervention.
"Good," he said, from the bathroom to my left. "You're awake."
CHAPTER 73
PRESENT
I nstinct kicked in and I leaped to my feet. Adrenaline flowed into my system and the last of the fogginess slip away. Pushing aside all thoughts but those of survival, I waded into battle with the Protector.
Every blow I threw was deflected, every kick avoided. I refused to look him in the eyes, knowing that if I did I might just shut down completely. Nevertheless, I could feel his eyes upon me and it was like someone had dropped an anchor on my chest. I found it hard to breathe and began trying to refocus my breathing, letting the music in my mind swell. My dance began in earnest and I marked the first connection with his jaw. It was a solid blow but far from enough to do any real damage.
"Stop," he said, continuing to deflect my strikes. I realized that he had not thrown one offensive punch or kick. He was in a purely defensive mode.
With a shock, I found myself fighting through blurred vision. At first I wondered if my strength had not yet returned and perhaps my wooziness would be the death of me. Then, I realized that it was tears. I was crying. I continued to fight a futile battle with the one person in the world who meant the most to me. My anger grew, a knot in my stomach that rattled around inside of me, burning my insides. That fucking asshole. The magistrate had placed the final nail in his coffin. The bastard had sent Garrett to kill me. I swore to myself that, if it was the last thing I did, I would see the magistrate's head on a goddamned spike.
My anger gave me focus, strength. I let the fires of my hate warm me, drive me. I connected again, this time to his gut. He huffed out air and began to sink, so I laid kick to the side of his head, hard enough to send him to the floor.
"Enough!" he cried. "I won't fight you!"
His words struck me harder than any physical blow. I paused to see him lie still on the carpet of the floor. He was propped on one elbow, staring at me through pitiful eyes. My kick had cut him just above his right eyebrow and the blood was trickling down the side of his face.
"You're here to kill me," I said. I heard my own voice. It was soft, broken in its truth. I wiped at the tears in my own eyes.
"Then, why did I save you, you idiot?" Garrett said, a smile forming as he shook his head, looking at me with an expression that made my heart sink. I recognized that look and felt the weight of the past week crash down around me. I fell to my knees.
"Why did they have to send you?" I said. All the stress of the past week weighed down on me, like a blanket made of lead. My shoulders slumped and my throat burned with the emotion I fought so hard to hold back. Try as I may, I could not stop the tears and that made me even more frustrated. I slammed my fist down on the bed, if only for the momentary release.
"I volunteered. The magistrate wanted you brought back alive. No one else could have done that and they knew it."
"You think you're going to take me back alive?" I asked incredulously. "We're just getting started here, then."
"No," he said, holding up a hand. "Paris. Damn it. Do you know nothing? After all of these years? A hundred fucking years and you act like you don't know me at all."
"What are you talking about? You're a Protector. I'm a fugitive. You've tracked me down. What the hell am I supposed to think?"
"You aren't supposed to think, girl. Don't you know that by now?"
"What?" I was so confused. Here I was, saved from death by a man sent to bring me back to the gallows. My thoughts circled in my head like vultures over a carcass. Nothing made sense. Why would he volunteer to bring me back? I thought he... I sat back on my haunches and stared at him.
Garrett had always been the one consistency in my life. From the first time I met him, when I was but a child, to the decades I spent in his arms. He was the one. He had always been the one. I couldn't take my eyes from his. The pressure on my heart shifted, evolved from fear and hate to the one emotion that represented this man, the one man in my life that made all others little more than pale imitations. I didn't need to think. He was right. I needed to feel. Through my tear-blurred vision I heard the words that saved my life.
"I love you, Paris. I always have. I always will."
I leapt across the short space between us, falling into his arms, sobbing like a child. I held him so tight that my arms began to ache. I refused to let go and we lay there for almost an hour. He stroked my hair and kissed my cheek, forehead and lips. He held me as I held him, as if we were trying to merge our souls once and for all.
We began to whisper in each other's ear. We spoke of what we each meant to the other. We spoke of our love. Our hands and lips found their way to the other's and then we were on the bed, wrapped in the heat of love, of longing.
Time passed.
Eventually, the conversation turned to the situation at hand.
"They didn't tell me what your crimes were," he said, his hand still gripping mine as if never wanting to let go.
"I'm sorry," I said.
"For what?"
"For putting you through this. It was never my intention."
"So, what happened?" He shifted slightly to be able to look me in the eyes. I reached out and ran my fingers along his face, tracing the curve of his lower lip. Wrapping my hands around his, I kissed his fingers. Then, I began my tale.
"I couldn't let Lo
ndon die like that," I said. "I learned the truth by entering her mind. The magistrate is behind this huge conspiracy to elevate the Valensi into the highest levels of government and power. The placement of infiltrators has already begun. Another ten or twenty years and he can begin to shuffle the pieces around, making the moves he has wanted to make for centuries. I tried to explain to Dawn, but she would have none of it. She cold-cocked London, laying her out pretty good. Then it was just me and her."
"I wondered where Dawn and London were when the magistrate sent me to the Abode," he said. "Dusk was nowhere to be found either. Vi was the one to give me the limited details of my assignment."
I nodded. "They were pretty upset, I should think. Two traitors in their midst and... Well, Dawn hurt me pretty badly but I ended her." I hesitated but felt no need to edit myself any longer. "Good riddance. Afterwards, London left to deal with the magistrate in her own way. She said we'd meet again and I don't doubt it for a second." I went on to give him the details of my travels to Orlando and then north.
"How the hell did that little psycho get you?" he asked.
"One bullet and two elephant tranquilizers."
"Shit."
"How did you find me, anyway? I thought I would have more time." Garrett responded with a slight snort of derision at my lack of faith in him.
"Sweetheart, I have over a thousand years of experience. You really think you could get away from me that easily?" He winked and I slapped him on the shoulder.
"I wasn't even a challenge, was I?"
"You've never been anything but, my love."
I had to say it. I had to make certain that, no matter what, he knew the one truth that I held closest to me. "I love you more than you will ever know," I said. I let him pull me in and wrap me up in his strong arms again. After a few minutes, I said, "What happened to the wannabe?"
The Waif's Tale (Valence of Infinity Book 1) Page 23