Luciens Reign: A Novel (DeSai Trilogy) Spawn of Satan
Page 2
The boy played eagerly on yard toys for the next half-hour. This was really the only time of day when he appeared to be a real child, so she relished it immensely. These moments, stolen from time itself, were really the only things that kept her from completely ravaging the tot just to taste his blood.
Cyril would be appalled, and the thought made her laugh out loud. The very things Cyril had adored about her would surely disgust him today if he were here to share these times with her, but he was not. Who knew? Maybe if Cyril were here with her and Lucien she would not experience these temptations and cravings at all. She knew that even though she had been the one to steal her husband’s life she was the one blaming him for her troubles now.
Lucien turned to her as she laughed, observing her happiness. “Is it time, Mama?”
Rasia got her wits about her. “Yes, Lucien. We will go in now.”
He ran back to her and allowed her to put him back into his buggy. He watched her as she buckled him in, as he always did. He felt a stirring in his stomach. When he looked at her he felt angry, almost to the point of causing her physical pain somehow. He knew the things she thought, how she wanted his blood. He had no idea why, but the knowledge made him hate her all the more.
As they made their way to the house Lucien said, “Mama, I want to play with the kitty when we get there.”
Rasia’s eyebrows lifted. He had never asked to play with Jax before. Jax was Rasia’s cat, and though she had tried to share him with Lucien, the boy had never shown interest. His request pleased her. “Yes, Lucien, I would love to share Jax with you.”
Once they were inside Rasia took the boy and placed him in the room which served solely as Jax’s quarters. Once she had settled them together she left the room and closed the door. Lucien’s nanny, Desirae, stood quietly at her side. “They may play together,” Rasia told the girl. “I will go have my bath, and I will return when I am finished.”
With that Rasia made her way to her room for her bath, a smile on her face. Lucien wanted to play with her cat! Perhaps he was warming up to her and her interests after all. She felt a glimmer of hope as she got into the hot water, and she soaked comfortably, a smile on her face.
∞
“Queen, Queen!” Desirae’s voice cut through Rasia’s daydreaming. She jumped, water splashing slightly, and grabbed her towel from the stand next to the bathtub. The bathroom door burst open, and Desirae stood before her, fear and panic all over her face.
Rasia was angry at the imposition, and lashed out at the young nanny. “How do you presume to interrupt me now?” She screeched.
Desirae’s breathing was ragged and her eyes were wild. “You must come quickly, my Queen! It’s Lucien; he has… he has…” her voice trailed off as she wrung her hands and glanced over her shoulder repeatedly.
She shed her body towel, allowing it to fall in a heap on the floor. She then grabbed her bath robe off the hook by the door and donned it as she strode out of her room with the nanny leading the way. They both raced purposefully in the direction of Jax’s quarters, Desirae on her heels.
When she arrived she flung the door open, and was immediately filled with horror.
Lucien was seated on the floor in his blue romper, which was covered in blood. Her cat, her Jax, had been sawn open by her own letter opener; the cat was in pieces, and her son was playing with its innards joyfully. She was immediately filled with fright, disgust, and dismay. Blood rushed into her head, and it seemed to be all she could hear in her head. Spots filled her vision, and it took all of her strength to remain on her feet.
“Lucien…” she began, her voice weak from the vertigo she felt.
The boy turned to her, his eyes alight with a fire from within. His smile was broad and satisfied, and he said to her, “See, mama, I play with Jax.” He giggled hysterically and threw a handful of blood and tissue into the air before looking back at her to take in her reaction; he was reveling in his mother’s confusion and pain.
Rasia’s eyes rolled back into her head, and everything turned black as she hit the floor in a full faint.
“Ha, ha!” Lucien laughed as he continued to play with the feline’s corpse. He turned to Desirae. “Mama shared Jax with me!”
Chapter 3
Patrick Gilliam sat in his den at his home. His elbows rested on his desk, and his fingers were steepled beneath his chin, supporting his head. He was deep in thought about his life. He could not believe all that had taken place since the fateful diving trip to Honduras with his friends. It all seemed almost unreal now.
So much had happened to bring about the changes in his life since he and his three friends had found the underwater cave. The Master, Cyril DeSai, rest his soul, as given him life eternal. The only thing he had felt missing was a true love, and he found her almost immediately.
His Rose. How beautiful she was, and she was innocent. From the moment they met he had determined to keep her from his own anguished fate: living eternally. It was not natural, and though he loved and appreciated DeSai for the gift, he wanted Rose to remain untainted by the curse.
So he protected her, keeping her hidden under lock and key. She was aware fully of what he was, and she loved him enough to trust his desire for her life. She submitted to him in every way, including allowing him to hunt when the need overtook him.
Yes, that was real love, and in return he would keep her from the same fate for as long as possible. No one knew about her; he allowed no one in their home ever. When she became pregnant he learned all he could about pregnancy and childbirth, caring for her himself, and even delivering their daughter.
Ah, the breathtaking Isabella Scarlet, his gorgeous, perfect offspring. Not yet two, she was more intelligent and beautiful than both of her parents. Yes, she was both human and vampire, but as of yet she had shown no signs of the darker half taking charge. It seemed to Patrick that he and Rose had gotten the best of both worlds in their daughter, the perfect balance. She was playful, creative, imaginative, and kind.
Patrick did take Isabella out among the Family; Rose understood that it had to be this way. When they would question her existence in the beginning he simply explained it away by telling others that her mother left in the night. They did not question him. After all, Patrick had been the very first among them all to be bitten; he was considered royalty to a degree. Being the first human to have been turned by Master DeSai made him a celebrity among Family members, but he handled the adoration, and the responsibility that came with it, with grace and dignity, just as the Master would have expected.
There was a slight tapping at his door. “Yes?” he asked, and the door opened slowly. Rose stood there smiling, her silky blond waist length hair shining in the light of his lamp.
“Come,” he said, smiling at his wife. “How has your day been?”
Rose entered the office and closed the door softly behind her. “Good,” she replied. “Isabella is asleep for the night, so I came to see you.” She beamed when she looked at him. Rose worshipped him, and he her.
Then he remembered the dream he had the night before, and it caused his smile to fade. The Powers wanted Isabella for their own, and they had made that clear in his sleeping vision. She had been chosen to be married to Lucien, the Master’s son, the one born to the Queen, Rasia. The thought turned his stomach. He knew there was no escaping this fate for Isabella; there was nothing he could do.
Patrick motioned for Rose to come to him. She came around his desk and sat on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his forehead as she did. “Are you okay, my love? You seem distracted.”
“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” he replied. “I couldn’t be happier.”
They held each other in silence for a while, Patrick rocking his desk chair back and forth. He would have to tell her. She would be heartbroken but, as always, she would understand. When would the time be right?
“Patrick, I need to talk to you,” Rose said.
He looked at her, his eyes smiling. “Tell me.”<
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Rose’s smile faltered for a moment before she continued. “Patrick, I think I am very sick.”
Immediately his stomach sank. This was something he had always feared, losing his wife to her own mortality. “Why do you say this, Rose?”
She cleared her throat and looked down at her lap. “You know the cough I have had as of late?”
“Yes,” Patrick said.
She continued to look down. “I have been coughing up quite a bit of blood.”
As soon as she said it, he knew. She had been coughing all the time lately, and her already pale skin had become even more ashen than normal. Also, the most distressing point was that he could smell something coming from her; he could smell the sickness inside of her.
Taking her to a doctor would not do; it would give his family away, and she would become a feast for the one true Family. The only option he could think of was the unthinkable: he would bite her, even though this concerned him as well. A bite was known to go both ways; it could give her life eternal, or it would progress her sickness, killing her with great speed.
He was willing to take the risk, but he needed to think on it for a while. “Rose, I will consider this deeply for a day or two. I will find a suitable solution, so I do not want you to fret. Are you worn out too badly?”
“No,” she replied. “The cough and the blood are the only symptoms, but they are getting worse.”
Patrick nodded as he gazed at her with a blinding love. “Give me a short time. I will solve the problem.”
Rose smiled at him and kissed him on the mouth. “Of course, dear,” she said, even though she had her doubts. “I’m going to turn in. Isabella wore me out today.”
They embraced each other once more before Rose left him. When the door was securely closed behind her he sat back in his chair and closed his eyes and spoke, saying, “Show me the way…”
It would all work out for the best.
It had to.
∞
Rasia sat at her desk in her office, the Book open in front of her. She was not reading it, though; she was simply trying to get her mind off her demonic son, but she found that even the Book’s sacred ancient pages could do nothing to help her. All she could think about was clumps of black, bloody fur that covered her son and the floor around him.
Lucien. Oh, he was more evil than she had ever imagined he could be. The boy was not yet two years of age and already he wanted to maim and mangle. He seemed to be filled with this dark spirit! Not only that, he seemed to thoroughly enjoy carrying out his violent desires.
But what did she expect? The boy was the offspring of a vampire and a witch, the first and only one of his kind. The potential for blackness in his soul was immeasurable. She sighed heavily and closed the Book, then locked it safely away. She had no idea what to do, and the Powers were silent when she went to them for answers.
After she discovered what Lucien had done to her cat she had been physically ill for hours. Desirae had taken the boy and cleaned him up, putting him down for a nap before cleaning up the mess in the cat’s quarters, but Rasia had locked herself in her room, vomiting intermittently as pictures of the gruesome scene flashed through her mind.
She knew he would have intelligence, and she knew he would be powerful, at least in the end, but she had no comprehension of how dark he would be from the very start. Even before he crawled he had a look in his eyes that betrayed his intelligence and black soul; he had just been powerless to carry anything out. It frightened her beyond any fear she had ever felt before. He looked at her with hatred, if that were possible for a toddler. Did he hate her because it was his nature or because he knew her thoughts and cravings toward him? Yes, she craved his blood, and yes, she despised his very existence, but he couldn’t possibly know about either of those things.
Or did he?
Was that what fed the fuel of his hatred toward her? He had no other reason to despise her so. She grew tired of her pondering, and shook the thoughts violently from her head. He was controlling far too much of her life! It would stop, and she would stop it. One way or another it would come to an end, or she would not make it even half-way through the boy’s childhood without defying the Powers and making dinner out of her own son.
∞
She made her way to her sanctuary, where a marble pentagram and altar waited for her continually. She stripped of her clothing and began to dance around the circle, chanting for the Powers once again to give her wisdom and insight. She also asked for permission, for the hundredth time, to end the life of Lucien Cerebus DeSai.
As she danced her knees became weak, and suddenly she was thrown violently to the floor by an unseen force. She landed directly in the center of the pentagram, and her head bounced off the floor. Immediately she raised her hands to the spot on her head and began to rub it, and as she did a dark cloud filled the air over her body; it was almost like a black smoke, and it even reeked of brimstone.
“Rasia DeSai, kneel before me!” The voice was a deep growl without any real tone, but Rasia could sense the pulsating fury in the monotone voice. The Powers were very, very angry with her.
She continued to hold her head as she struggled to get to her knees. When she did she tried to look up at the smoke, but it scolded her. “You are not worthy to gaze upon me! Look down!”
She obeyed immediately. She had never experienced a visual or audible manifestation of the Powers; all of her responses from them had been in an emotional sense, and she was petrified. Rasia trembled and her eyes fluttered in fear. Surely she had enraged them, and she would not push her luck any further by disregarding direct verbal orders.
“You have been chosen to be the mother of our son, and you will submit,” the voice continued. “Who are you, who have been gifted with all things, to question us in any way? You are but our slave…”
Tears began to escape from her eyes, but she remained still as the voice continued. “If the boy Lucien killed you and feasted on your flesh tomorrow it would be our will. You will get your senses about you and continue with the task you have been given. You were not born for your own pleasure, but to carry out the tasks which we desire.”
Rasia squeezed her eyes tightly, and her tears dropped to the floor. “The pathetic water leaking from your eyes tastes wonderful,” the voice purred. “Perhaps we will be pleased to harm you more another time. For now you will mother the boy Lucien, and you will guide him properly, for one day he will rule over not only the world, but you as well.”
Rasia only nodded in agreement as the Powers continued. “As for you, you will never again come into our presence whining like a child, or you will be put to death and the child raised by another of our choosing,” it said. “Bring a sacrifice to show remorse for your weakness. That will be your task for tomorrow evening. By the way, Rasia, your cat was delicious.”
The cloud suddenly disappeared as quickly as it had come, and Rasia collapsed to the floor sobbing. Had Lucien sacrificed Jax to the Powers? No, she thought not. He had no knowledge of them, but if they freely incited him to do such he would have obeyed. He was born with a heart for them.
She blew out the candles and switched on the dim light in the sanctuary. As she dressed she got her tears under control, then she made her way back to her room, still rubbing the lump that had formed on her head. There she cleaned her face and brushed her hair before climbing into her bed.
“Oh, Cyril!” she said as she lay on her pillow. “How I regret taking your life! If ever I have felt pain and loneliness, it is now.”
Rasia buried her face in her pillow and cried herself to sleep. She was trapped, just as she had intended to trap Cyril over two long years ago.
Chapter 4
“Rose, when you get Isabella to sleep would you come to my office, darling?” Patrick had poked his head into their daughter’s room.
Rose smiled at him. “Do you want me to come now?” she asked.
“No, dear. Make sure the little beauty is asleep though, before you come.
” He shut the door gently and went to his den to wait for his wife to arrive.
Patrick sat at his desk as he waited, thinking about his conference with the Powers the night before. It had gone much better than anticipated; the Powers knowing that she would mother the chosen bride of the future Master, Patrick went imploring that the Powers provide an acceptable solution that would grant Rose her very life.
He had given them the best thing he could find for a sacrifice: an innocent sheep. They had reveled in its blood, and when he asked for their guidance they were happy to give it to him. Yes, he should bestow her with the bite. No, her illness would not progress to the point of death from it. Rose was needed to raise an acceptable bride; she was chosen by the Powers long long ago to birth and raise Isabella properly. They informed him that the child Isabella was very special indeed, though they did not give Patrick any details that mattered.
So now Patrick would tell Rose of the verdict, and he would help her make herself ready for the massive step she was about to take, but only if she was fully willing. If he sensed any apprehension in her at all he would refuse to go through with it. The thought of her refusing the gift petrified him to no end.
A full half-hour passed before he heard Rose’s gentle knock on his door. It pulled him out of his deep reverie, and he bid her entry. She took her normal seat across the desk from him, coughing softly into a tissue as she looked at him imploringly.
“Rose, I have come to a solution, one of which I’m sure you have anticipated,” he began. “The only thing needed will be your whole-hearted agreement and willingness, otherwise I will not proceed.”
She cleared her throat and smiled at him. “Of course, and yes, I know what it is. I must let you bite me.”
Patrick held her eyes as he sat back in his chair. “I need you to understand, fully, exactly what that means.” With that, Patrick spent the next hour explaining in great detail all the points that surrounded what they were about to do. It was so much more than eternal life. It was dark emptiness for all time.