by Amity Grays
“No,” she reached out for them and found herself pulled, into the wind which whipped into a tunnel. Just like the others, she flew through the air at incredible speed. It was dark, damp and musty. From one stone passage to another she moved, led by no one but guided all the same.
Suddenly the stone walls turned into fields, and the voices emerged as riders storming the ground to an unseen battle. The earth shook beneath them. The land and its possessions knelt at their feet. Determination and tenacity defining them, they wore no metal armor, no helmets, no guns, only long silver swords and chains holding silver crosses.
Oh, how it consumed her—the beauty of courage, the power of belief, the need to be a part of their magnificent journey. Who were these men and where were they going?
The wind began to calm, the army to fade. She reached out her arms, grasping at air, hoping to catch hold of the moment and hold it in her arms. The fields disappeared behind tunnels and the tunnels behind walls. Edeline emerged back on the study’s floor.
No!
She mourned it. She wanted to go back. She didn’t care what it was or whether or not she belonged. It had fulfilled her in a way she could never describe.
But there’d be no going back. Whatever magic the room had released, it had reined back in. Not even the odd feelings remained…nor the chants outside the door. They had been replaced by voices—voices which were not all that far away.
She had to get the stone and get out of there. But how was she going to do it and not be seen? One thing was certain, the stone could come nowhere near her or it alone would give her away. Pulling the chain off from around her neck, the stone transformed to plain.
Looking around the office for something in which to carry it, she spotted a small can of paper clips sitting on the desk. Opening the desk drawer, she emptied the can’s contents inside before dropping the stone into the can and shoving it into her pocket. It seemed to do the trick.
Her glance fell to the open book still lying on the floor. It would be a dead giveaway. She picked it up and placed it back on the shelf.
Now to get out.
The front door seemed a bad bet, all things considered. It would have to be the window. Moving the long flowing drapes aside, she unhooked the latch. Much to her relief, the window moved easily. Much to her horror, it set off an alarm.
With no time for careful, she kicked out the window’s screen and took a leap of faith.
Her feet hit the ground, and she instantly started running. Luckily from that point, she could see which way was out.
When she first hit the graveled drive, it appeared to be deserted. She could make for the hedges or trust her luck would hold and make for the car. The black Mercedes, which had been her transport, was still sitting where they’d left it. Having no idea what waited behind the bush, she opted for the car.
Three armed guards rushed forward from behind the main gate. Thankfully she reached the car and found it unlocked and the keys still dangling from the ignition. Shaking near uncontrollably, her hands circled the keys and turned the ignition.
The motor roared to life just as the mansion doors swung open and at least a dozen men with long black capes and silver masks stormed out. Panic swept through her like a raging inferno. Run, was her only clear thought.
Throwing the gear into drive, Edeline stomped her foot heavily on the gas. The car heaved forward, fishtailing until the rear wheels found traction. Whatever it took, she was getting the hell out. There wasn’t a one of them she wouldn’t mow down to get there.
A second later, she was storming down the drive and straight for the gate where even more guards had emerged.
“Don’t shoot!” She heard hollered as the guards took aim.
Black capes flew down the drive behind her, and out of nowhere a man flung himself upon the hood of the car. The swaying of the vehicle was more shock than intent, but it rolled the man back and forth as he hung on tight to the hood. A silver mask did nothing to hide the frightening black eyes which stared through the windshield.
“Hollow of soul,” she’d always wondered the phrase. But here it was before her, chilling and ugly and horrifyingly real. She couldn’t see his face, yet she’d swear he smiled.
A second later fate stepped on the brakes as she collided with the closing gate. The demon from the hood rolled off the Mercedes onto the ground below.
Jumping from the car, she ran for her life.
Gravel popped and ground under the man’s heavy weight as he moved to his feet and took off after her. She hadn’t made it far before he flew at her from behind and sent them both tumbling into the brush.
Turn after turn she rolled across the rough earth, the man’s ridiculous cape wrapping itself around her with every toss and roll. Finally they came to a stop. She fought him for all she was worth, but the beast was too strong. The duel ended when a heavy backhand landed hard across her cheek.
The sting of it penetrated clear down to the bone.
Pulling her arms way over her head, he trapped her still beneath him. “Keep that passion for later,” he said. “When they’re done with you, I’ll drain every ounce of it from what’s left of your useless frame.”
“Enough!” A familiar voice commanded from the top of the slope.
Edeline pulled her gaze from the monster on top of her to the top of the hill.
Colonel Martin stood at the edge of the drive, his mask dangling at his side.
Betrayed.
It was hard to take in. She had trusted the man and he’d brutally betrayed her.
“That’s enough, LaFay,” he commanded. “Pick her up and take her straight to the temple. I see no reason to drag this out any longer.”
Her insides turned. She wanted to scream but fear had left her muted.
The man Martin called LaFay snorted and pulled off his silver disguise. The picture behind the façade was one more disturbing than the mask itself. The man wore evil like a veil. His features, though in an odd way striking, appeared ruthless and cold, creating a face as frightening and poignant as the dark eyes it held.
Moving to his knees, he then lifted her into his arms and packed her up the hill, mumbling as he passed Martin. “When it’s over—”
“When it’s over, you’ll do your job and be done with it. The quicker we do this, the safer we’ll be. We’ve waited hundreds of years for this moment. If you screw this up, I’ll kill you myself. Understood?”
Stopping dead in his tracks, LaFay turned to face Martin. The deadly look in his eyes sending shivers all the way down Edeline’s spine. “Have you forgotten who you’re talking to, or are you just that stupid?”
Martin searched the masks now surrounding them as though weighing his support. Apparently unconvinced, he looked back to LaFay. “We’ve a lot to lose.”
“I’m well aware of what’s at stake,” LaFay replied, his frightening gaze turning back to her, running longingly down her body, telling her clearly he’d do as he pleased.
Watching with pure disgust, Graham could have easily vomited. The beast would take her, have his way with her and then happily cut her throat. She didn’t deserve it. She was an innocent victim in the battles which raged between Heaven and Hell, but still she would pay the ultimate price.
Not wanting to have any part of it or their heathen ceremony, he fell back, pretending to be concerned with the car.
“Leave it,” Martin hollered from up the drive.
“I’ll just see if it will start,” Graham yelled back.
Martin scowled and threw his hands in the air. “You’re a damn pain in my ass, Graham. Move the piece of shit and get inside. We won’t wait for you.”
“Oh, the pity,” mumbled Graham, opening the door and crawling behind the wheel. The sound of plastic breaking was followed by an uncomfortable poking against his backside. He reached beneath him and pulled out a tin can. The small plastic window built into the can’s top was now destroyed. Inside the can lay a plain brown stone.
He stare
d at it in stunned silence.
Sure it was just an ordinary brown stone, but this one he knew exceptionally well. He’d stared at the thing for hours before actually handing it over to the demons. She must have found it. How’d she manage that?
She was really something—Edeline Depuis.
Damn it. Damn them!
The key turned and the motor roared. Looking down the road, he thought about how nice the ocean would feel. A burst of speed and a straight path on the winding road would have him there in practically no time. The temptation was stronger than it had ever been before. Laughing an empty laugh, the irony of it hit him dead on. To leave this hell, he would take his own life, when it was for his life he had entered it.
Tapping his fingers against the wheel, he realized he truly didn’t care if he lived or died. So what the hell was he doing? The answer came to him so clearly he almost choked on its starkness. He would end his misery, but first he would end hers.
He looked down at the stone. Maybe, just maybe, he could right a few of his wrongs.
Moving the gear into reverse, he threw his arm across the back of the seat and turned to look behind him.
A hammer pulled and the cold touch of steel landed between his eyes.
Silver masks filled the benches on each side of the darkened chamber. Red candles in black sconces hung on the temple walls, their flames licking high as their shadows danced against the tapestry. An odd scent filled the air. Cypress and musk mixed with some unknown aroma which turned the combination into a heavy, not quite pleasant scent. It seemed to mess with her mind, making the pagan statues guarding the entries seem to come alive. The same dark feelings she’d first felt in the study were here but compounded. Nothing but ugliness breathed in the room.
The masked audience bent their heads and chanted as the man named LaFay dragged her down the wide carpeted path toward the steps of their altar.
His touch turned her stomach, sickening her to the point of physical illness. But it was the look in his black merciless eyes which haunted her soul. His desire for her was without emotion, it was derived of a cruel and revolting lust. Without speaking a word he’d made his intentions clear. If she survived this ordeal, she would only live to die in his unmerciful arms.
She wouldn’t allow that to happen. Whatever it took, she would escape or see it ended here.
He threw her to the base of the steps where four tall figures stood waiting. Their faces masked or not she couldn’t tell, were hidden somewhere deep within their capes’ oversized hoods.
Instantly turning to move, two sets of hands took hold of her arms and held her where she’d fallen. A puppet in their play of worship, she felt utterly helpless to do anything but obey the cords.
The low steady hum of their dark rhythmic chant rose like an invisible wall from the back of the room, chilling and foreboding in its hollow, soulless beat. Between it and Edeline lay nothing but masks.
More troubling than any of it, however, was the cry of a child which emerged from somewhere deep inside the sea of silver faces.
What was a child doing in such a nightmare?
The answer came to her directly on the heels of the question—a horrifying truth she’d give anything to be wrong. It was heartless, the epitome of appalling—but as the damned cared neither for the beauty nor value of innocence, reason led her to the obvious conclusion. The child was her replacement.
The reality of her situation was now abundantly clear. Things were so much worse than she’d ever imagined. She wasn’t going to be killed because she wasn’t anything special. She was about to be killed because the power she held was.
Edeline fought once more against the hands holding her still.
“Enough,” Martin said, making his way through the crowd to stand before her. A snide smile crossed his lips as he caught her unbridled look of contempt. “Realizing you may have played the Devil’s advocate, are you?”
It was true enough. She’d been so certain it was all a farce; she’d chorused his fraudulent doubts as though they were gospel. She’d been careless, almost taunting in her certainty that all concerns were needless and even ridiculous.
He laughed at her look of remorse. “Even science speaks of magic, my dear girl. They may label and definite it, but it makes it no less spectacular. You of all people should realize it’s so.”
She looked past him to the man now standing behind him with a little girl in his hands. Looking back toward Martin, she pleaded, “I’ll do whatever you ask. Please don’t do this.”
Following her gaze, he turned. “Where’s the stone?” he asked the man, taking from him the small child.
“It wasn’t there,” said the man, shifting his glance hesitantly from Martin to LaFay.
Martin’s lip twitched in annoyance. “What do you mean it wasn’t there?”
Edeline tried hard to hide her relief. They hadn’t found it.
The man continued to squirm, glancing once again to LaFay and then back to the Colonel. “The book was there but it was empty.”
“Empty,” Martin repeated the word as though testing it for taste. Closing his eyes, his mouth visibly tightened over gritted teeth. “Where is it?” he asked, turning to face Edeline.
“Where’s what?”
The palm of his hand landed across her face, stinging as the crack of the blow echoed throughout the room.
The little girl whimpered and then began to cry.
“I haven’t the patience to play with you, Edeline. I’ll ask you one more time, and then I’ll hand you to LaFay.”
It wasn’t a matter of courage. She simply knew that even if she told him, it would not change her fate or the child’s. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I’m hardly that big a fool, Edeline.”
“No, you’re a monster—a horrible, loathsome excuse for a man.”
He pulled a long face. “Now that hurts, Edeline.” The next slap came just as fast and just as hard. “I warned you, didn’t I?” Looking toward LaFay, he nodded her way.
LaFay smiled, pulling her into his arms and back against his chest. Roughly grasping her jaw, he pushed her head up and back, forcing her to stare into his black, cold eyes. “If you don’t care to talk, I see no use for your tongue.”
Edeline shook. The man hardly seemed the type for idle threats.
He let loose her neck, and her glance fell back on the child. It wasn’t just her own life hanging in the balance; it was the young girl’s as well. But there was a difference between surviving and living.
One of the few things her father had been able to tell her about her past was how she’d obtained the power. Though she’d thought it a sad and twisted tale at the time, she could see clearly its implications now.
She’d hand the child—an easily manipulated carrier—the stone. Edeline would then be killed, and the power would pass to the child. She’d survive, but for what?
“There’s no point in playing the hero,” Martin said. “Sooner or later you’re going to tell me. You may as well leave this place in one piece.”
She wouldn’t tell him, but sooner or later they’d retrace her steps and most likely find the stone.
“You’ll free yourself from the burden, Edeline. Just do it,” he said.
“Free myself for what—to be slaughtered. I know how it works. I’m not a fool, nor am I so cruel as to curse an innocent child with the likes of you.”
“How very noble of you,” he drawled, a slow grin crossing his ruthless face. “But then, nobility runs in your blood, does it not?” Pulling a gun from inside his cape, he pointed it at the back of the little girl’s head. “Let’s try another route.”
“Don’t!” Edeline cried, jerking against LaFay’s hold.
“Let her go,” Martin ordered LaFay, moving the child closer to her.
The girl’s wide eyes met Edeline’s. A trail of tears ran down her small face as she reached out her tiny hands, begging to be taken.
“All right,” Edeline
said, pulling against her restraints.
“Let her go, I said!”
The hands reluctantly fell away.
Edeline reached for the small child who fell willingly into her arms. She squeezed her tight and comforted her.
“Oh, that’s very sweet, Edeline, very sweet,” Martin said. “Now tell me. Where’s the stone?”
She kissed the top of the little girl’s head and wondered what kind of world she’d be cursing her with.
Martin pressed the gun once more against the child’s head. “Last chance, Edeline. I can go get another innocent. We can do this again and again and again. How many have to die?”
She closed her eyes as though the darkness might find her peace.
It didn’t.
“It was in my back pocket. It’s probably in the car or perhaps somewhere on the hill.”
“Watch her,” Martin said to LaFay before nodding toward the four grim reapers still standing behind her. “Follow me,” he said and headed out the chamber.
The sound of their steps faded into the distance, leaving her and the child alone with LaFay and a room full of masked servants.
He watched her silently a moment, no doubt pleased by her discomfort. He stepped toward her, and those behind them began once more to chant.
Pulling the child as close to her as she could, she stepped back and up the stairs.
His eyes flashed with something akin to amusement. “Eager?” he asked, looking pointedly past her and up toward a metal table sitting in the center of the altar. It was bare, but to its side, on a table well lit with candles, lay a knife. Its long silver blade, picking up the reflection of the flames, seemed to burn as though on fire.
It was hard to look and equally as hard to look away. Though the thought of the knife plunging through her heart made her nauseous, she still couldn’t believe that this would be her end.
“Such a shame,” said LaFay, his tone contradicting his words. “I’d like to say I’m sorry, but that would be a—”