Helena didn’t want to pursue this conversation any longer. There were other things she wanted to know about Vincent, but her stubborn side would not capitulate. “You do know what he is, right?”
Perplexed, Perri scratched her head. Her light brows drew together in confusion. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
Helena nibbled on her lip. If she told her what he was, would it save this girl’s life or endanger her further? If Vincent found out she told Perri about it, she was certain he would stop his act of decency and take her life. She let out a nervous laugh. “A great host. I am so happy to be invited here as his guest.”
Perri’s frown didn’t go away, but she continued to lead until she stopped at a door.
Helena was deep in thought when they had arrived at her new prison.
“Well, here we are. This will be your room. Mine is over here,” she pointed to a room next to it.
“Thanks for showing me the way,” Helena mumbled.
“It’s no problem. I am at your service and”—Perri lowered her eyes to the ground—“I wanted you to know that I’m happy to have someone my age around here.” She moved in and whispered, “Everyone here is so old, especially Rupert.”
Helena raised a brow. The maid was more like Laura than she wanted to admit.
Perri straightened her posture. “Paul brought your things in first, so they should be in there. If you need anything, I will be next door.”
“Thank you,” Helena said and meant it.
She parted with Perri and entered her room. The maid’s footsteps echoed in the hallway in the direction of the bedroom adjacent to hers.
The moment the heavy door closed behind her, Helena rested her back against it. The room seemed cosy. Better than at Alexander’s home. Yet, it was another place where she had to sit quietly while vampires dictated what she did and where she went. The weight of her burdens piled on her shoulders, and she slid to the ground. Helena did her best to hold back the stinging tears. She blinked repeatedly and stared at the ceiling in silent prayer.
After a while, she assessed the room Vincent had provided for her. The windows didn’t have any iron bars to prevent her from escaping, although jumping from the second floor of a castle didn’t seem appealing either. She didn’t hear Perri locking the door when she came in, yet she couldn’t help feeling trapped.
“This is only for a month,” she whispered and found the strength to push off the ground to get back on her feet.
Perri spoke the truth. Her bag was already in her room. It looked small and insignificant, laying there on the four-poster bed. The heat from the fireplace warmed the space around her while the light danced on the walls, capturing her attention as she sat on the bed.
Since there was nothing else she could do, she decided it would be best to get as much rest as possible. She was unsure of the real reason Vincent wanted her here. The way he looked at her in Alexander’s club worried her.
Helena pulled out a t-shirt and pyjama bottoms from her bag and changed into them. Once she climbed in bed, she gazed at the dancing shadows on the ceiling. It felt too familiar…
She stood in a candlelit room crammed with jars, bottles, and herbs scattered around it on uneven shelves. The worn wooden flooring creaked under her as if straining to hold her weight. She stared at her reflection in a mirror. Her surroundings were shaking. No, that wasn’t it. She was shaking and an endless cycle of questions roamed her mind.
Where is she? Who could have taken her?
There is no other way. She had cast all spells in the grimoire and nothing worked. Her precious child was still missing. But, she could no longer cry. Her tears dried up a long time ago when this torment began.
No, I must not give up.
She had to complete the contract for her daughter’s sake. Nothing else mattered.
Helena fought the tremors. This was not her body. The face in the mirror belonged to someone else—an older woman who looked like her. Her thin, dry, light brown hair reached to her waist. The paleness of her skin made her seem almost transparent and dark circles framed her dead eyes.
Helena once more was trapped in Eva’s body.
The witch sucked in a shaky breath. The smell of burning sage calmed her.
Helena’s grandmother used to grow a lot of herbs and burn them in her house. When the evening came, she would sit Helena on her lap and tell her stories of how good witches battled evil throughout the centuries or how they healed the sick and protected others from the darkness. They were almost superheroes to her back then.
“I can do this!” Eva thought. “I have to do this, even if the Circle will never forgive me.”
She scanned the candlelit room. The preparations were done. She had to find a way to concentrate. She couldn’t afford to break down, not yet.
Eva glanced at the flickering candlelight on the ceiling. “Mother, forgive me for what I am about to do.”
With her last plea, she picked up a curved dagger with engravings of runes lining the side of the blade. The carved hilt felt heavy in her hand as she dipped it in the bowl of herbal paste next to it and rubbed the green mixture into the cold onyx with her quivering fingers.
“Forgive me, Mother, and provide me with guidance…”
Eva let the dagger rest on her palms and faced the mirror. The stone blade glistened as she mumbled foreign words.
Helena strove to understand what she was saying. The Russian she used was old. It was more complex than what her mother had taught her. From what she could gather, Eva spoke of a soul, a lifeline, and a bloodline.
Her heart beat faster as if trying to catch up to the rhythm of the words she uttered. She grasped the hilt of the dagger. Her knuckles turned white. Outstretching her wrist over the bowl, she cut deep into her flesh. At first, it stung. Once her blood rushed to the surface, a dull ache emerged, too.
Helena screamed, but no sound came out of Eva’s dry lips. Crimson rivers ran along the sides of her starved wrist and trickled into the bowl. The herbs were beginning to work, numbing the physical pain, but nothing seemed to take away the gnawing desperation in her heart.
She will be safe. Nothing else matters.
The green paste darkened when she mixed it with her blood using the dagger as a stirrer. Satisfied with the amount, she dipped her finger into it and drew a pentagram on the mirror. Eva wrote her name in the centre and encapsulated each of the five pointed ends with mystical symbols.
“Te invoco, Lazare. Audi orationem meam,” she told her bloodied reflection.
The small room filled with buzzing dark energy as the same energy seeped out of the mirror. The sinister feeling emanating from it reminded her of the creature outside of her shields.
The hair on the back of Eva’s neck stood to attention as it wrapped around her possessively. A shadow blurred her reflection until the mirror displayed nothing but darkness. A moment later, the shadow cleared enough to reveal a sharp-toothed grin spreading across it.
“At last, you have come to me for help, Eva,” it growled.
“I accept the contract, Lazarus. You can do as you wish with me but promise me that my daughter will be safe,” Eva said with her hands trembling at her sides.
The dark energy tried forcing its way in, but she needed to be sure he would save her daughter before she gave in.
“Your daughter will return, alive, of course,” the darkness spoke with a hint of amusement.
“Swear to me!”
“The contract binds me as much as you, Eva.”
She sighed. Ruby liquid encircled her feet and, in seconds, she stood within the bounds of a different pentagram. Small text ran in loops until the ends met.
The contract, Eva thought.
The long awaited peace was upon her. She let go of her shields, and they collapsed. There was no more reason to fight anymore. Her precious child would live and be safe. Nothing else mattered.
Dark energy flowed into her. It vibrated with the creature’s power, and Eva dropped
to her knees under its pressure. She saw nothing other than his sharp-toothed grin as he began collecting his payment.
When the darkness reached her soul’s core, it lunged at it like a starving animal. Her body wouldn’t relent. Searing pain shot through her chest. Tendrils of energy pulled and tugged at her heart until she felt something separate from her body. A bright flame emerged and was swallowed up almost immediately.
Eva was gone. Helena knew it the moment her thoughts ceased. What remained behind was an empty shell.
“The price has been paid.” The creature laughed in triumph, leaving a trace of his energy prickling along her skin.
“Oh, Eva, what have you done?” a voice filled with surprise came from behind her.
Helena knew who it was. The woman she saw in the cave.
The soulless body turned to face Marina with a wicked smile playing on its lips.
Marina’s eyes widened and her mouth hung open.
“Our deal is complete, Marina. Your son’s soul is mine and this witch’s Circle is yours,” the creature spoke through Eva’s lips.
Helena awoke to find a pair of large brown eyes focused on her. The surprise made her shoot up into a sitting position without thinking. She bumped heads with Perri, sending the maid falling off the bed and onto the floor, groaning in pain.
She massaged her forehead to remove the ache building from the impact.
“What are you doing here?” she asked Perri who was also rubbing her nose with her fingers.
“I came here to give you a wake-up call. It is already late afternoon.” She blushed and continued, “But, when I called you, no one replied, so I came in. You were tossing and turning. I thought you were in pain. And well…”
“And you thought it would be better to climb on top of me?”
Perri stood and began fixing her uniform into place. She kept her eyes cast to the ground. “No matter how much I called from the doorway, you wouldn’t wake up. I came over to take a better look and then—” Perri’s face turned bright red.
Helena took a calming breath and let it out slowly. Perri didn’t deserve her scolding. Looking down, she saw her t-shirt was drenched in sweat. The material clung to her body, reminding her of the way that creature clutched Eva’s heart. She shuddered.
“You said you couldn’t wake me up?”
“Yes, I called your name and shook you, but nothing worked. Then, you woke up on your own,” Perri explained with the help of her hand gestures.
“Look, I’m sorry if I seemed ungrateful…”
“Don’t worry about it. I came here to tell you that Master Vincent has requested your company for dinner tonight. He sent you some clothes. I left them over there.” She pointed at a large cushioned recliner by the fireplace where two white boxes were stacked atop of one another.
“He requested my presence?” she repeated, unsure whether she heard her right. If Vincent wanted her there, he could order it. There was no need for the charade he was playing.
“Yes, but if you don’t feel well, I could tell him that.”
Helena raised a hand. “No, it’s alright. Tell him I’ll be there.”
Perri’s lips tugged into a faint smile, and she scurried out of the room.
Hearing the door close made Helena's shoulders drop. Her skin was beginning to get cold from the wet clothes.
She climbed out of bed to rummage through her bag before she picked out a clean set of spare clothes to change into. Searching the room for any indication of where the bathroom was, she realised there was no en-suite here. A shower was a must if she was going to meet with Vincent for dinner. She chose not to wait any longer and changed into what she scavenged from her bag. Her eyes lingered on the white boxes resting on the chair. Helena didn’t bother checking what was in them. She wasn’t going to become a dress-up doll for a vampire. And, if he did mean that she was his guest, there was nothing binding her to accept his gifts.
Dinner took place in the main dining hall. The walls were lined with framed pages from ancient manuscripts and paintings of battles. Helena didn’t have time to admire the room for long since she felt Vincent’s presence.
He sat at the head of a long table with enough chairs pulled up for two dozen people.
Rupert led Helena to her seat on Vincent’s right. He pulled out a chair for her and left the room.
She took her seat and noticed Vincent’s energy retreated inside his shields.
“Good evening,” he greeted her.
“Good evening,” she whispered.
Trying to avoid eye contact, she concentrated on the grey suit he wore. After all, she wasn’t sure how he would react to her rejecting his gifts.
“You did not like the dress I sent you?”
Here it comes. Helena swallowed. She wasn’t certain of how to answer him. What if she had offended him?
Her voice shook. “We both know I didn’t come here to be dressed up.” She grabbed a glass of water, making the liquid dance against its crystal confinement.
“I see.”
Vincent remained silent for so long, she had to glance up to see if he was still there.
Their eyes met, and she felt like a deer staring into the headlights of an oncoming car. She knew she needed to look away but couldn’t. When he diverted his attention to the red wine in his glass, her chest was burning from holding her breath. If he was able to command vampires with a few words, she feared what he could do to humans.
Vincent took a tentative sip and swirled his wine. A look of longing was present on his aged face. “I am leaving for London tonight, for a week. Perri will be in charge of your care while you stay here.”
Helena briefly closed her eyes and took a long drink from her glass of water. “And what am I to do?”
“You are free to roam the grounds.” He paused to look at her. “You are my guest, after all.”
She stared at him, burning with questions she wanted answers to.
“Master Vincent, the food is ready,” Rupert interrupted from the door leading to what she assumed was the kitchen.
“Please, bring it here. Our guest must be starving.”
Helena couldn’t tell him the dream from last night kept her from eating. Then again, Perri would most likely inform him of the tiny details. She couldn’t think about food when there were too many worries lodged in her mind.
Rupert placed a plate of delicious smelling steak in front of her. The herbs used in the simple dish made her recall the dream. Her stomach reeled, and she pushed the plate away, lowering her eyes. “Sorry, I can’t eat. I’m not hungry.”
Vincent rose to his feet, outstretching his large hand to her.
Helena bit down on her lip and took it.
To her surprise, he brought her hand closer to him and brushed his cold lips over it. His moustache tickled her skin. “Perhaps we can have dinner another time when you are feeling better.”
She yanked her hand out of his grasp, and Vincent bowed with the grace of a gentleman before sitting back down at the head of the table.
Not waiting any longer, she ejected herself out of her seat and left the room as if her tail was aflame. In the fictitious safety of her room, she rested against the door and closed her eyes.
“What was that?” she voiced her thoughts.
“Helena,” Michael’s voice echoed in her mind.
She opened her eyes to see him, but he wasn’t there. “What’s wrong? Where were you?”
“I don’t have much time. Something bad may happen soon. I want you to be careful and don’t—” He broke off. His presence vanished along with the end of his warning.
“Michael? Michael!” she screamed aloud.
He was gone. Not a trace of his energy lingered in the room or inside of her mental shields.
“Don’t drink? Don’t drive? Don’t spend time with vampires? What?”
Gathering what was left of her calm, she glowered in silence. Was Vincent angry with me because of the way I behaved? She buried her face in her h
ands. “Ugh, there’s no way of finding out if he’s not here!”
She pushed away from the door and staggered over to the window. It was dark outside. She heard the faint lulling of nearby waves. Helena cracked the window open, and the smell of the sea filled the room. Cold air brushed against her face, and she looked at the dark sea beyond.
“What is going on?” Her eyes moistened, and she brushed the first teardrop away. Why can’t things return to normal?
Vincent was true to his word. He came by to say his goodbye and left. Afterwards, Helena tried to get some sleep. She was tired, more so than usual. The fear of reliving the nightmare kept her up while draining away what little strength she had left. Michael’s words kept repeating in her mind as she lay on the bed, trying to figure out what she wasn’t supposed to do.
There was a light knock on the door and Helena sat up. “Come in.”
Perri pushed the door open with her hip while balancing a tray of food in both hands. “I brought you breakfast.”
Wide-eyed, Helena glanced out the window. The sun was already shining through the curtains which confirmed a new day was upon them. She hadn’t noticed the time pass.
“Thanks,” she mumbled.
Perri sat on the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong? You don’t sound well this morning. Was it another bad dream?”
Helena didn’t want Perri knowing too much. She was Vincent’s maid, which meant she had to mind what information she passed on to this innocent-looking woman. She shook her head. “No, just couldn’t sleep last night.”
The smell of fresh food and coffee reached her and her stomach chose to make an announcement, stating how empty it was.
Perri giggled. She passed the tray to Helena, helping balance it on her lap before letting go.
“You’ll feel better after you eat. Sometimes, when I watch a horror film, I can’t sleep at night either and then, the next morning, I’m falling about the place while cleaning windows. I’m lucky Rupert hasn’t kicked me out.”
Helena poured some coffee from a small silver teapot that accompanied her meal. She offered the cup to Perri who shook her head.
Russian Roulette (Helena Hawthorn Series Book 1) Page 20