by Bea Paige
I refuse to look away. His hand tightens, but still I look directly at him. Defiant.
Devin. It’s me, Red. I’m here. Please snap out of it. This isn’t you. This isn’t the man I love.
He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t kill me either. His whole body is shaking with rage, and yet something is stopping him from squeezing tighter. I can feel his hand tremble against my neck with the effort. He leans in close, then roars in my face. The heated sound of his wrath pummels against me. Still I stand defiant. I will not lose him to the darkness. I will be his beacon, and if that means standing here risking my own life, then so be it.
“I should kill you,” he says eventually.
“So, why don’t you?”
Devin reels back in shock. For a moment we just stare at each other. His chest is heaving, but I am strangely calm. He narrows his eyes at me, opens his mouth, then strides over to Ilana and pulls her towards him before ripping her throat out with his teeth. Blood spurts from Ilana’s neck in a wide arc as she falls to the floor in a heap. Sinews of muscle and shredded skin surround a gaping, black hole. Her dead eyes stare blindly upwards, the ghost of her scream still lingering across her face. Devin spits out a mouthful of her flesh before swiping the back of his hand against his face, smearing her blood against his cheek.
“Next time it will be you,” he says, then yanks open the door and leaves the apartment.
I fall to the floor on my knees as the contents of my stomach splatter across the stone. I heave until there is nothing left. Ilana is dead because of me. I may have disliked her for what she did to Devin, but I didn’t want her dead.
Picking myself up from the floor, I make my way to Ilana’s side. Guilt burns my throat as I look into her unseeing eyes. I kneel and close them for her. I am not a religious person, I’d never had any kind of faith. Facts and science were once my religion. Now, my views are different. I have witnessed things that cannot be explained. I stay by Ilana’s side for long minutes and say a silent prayer for her soul, hoping that she’s at peace now.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“Apologies won’t help her now,” a soft voice says from behind me.
My view is misty due to the tears that threaten to fall. When I blink them back I find myself looking up at Lissandra. I stand and throw my arms around her. “Oh, Lissandra, she is dead. I didn’t want this…”
Lissandra pulls back. “It was only a matter of time before the bloodlust finally took over Devin. Be thankful it was her and not you.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I refrain from saying anything at all. Her words are harsh, but this is her reality, mine now, and one I will have to get used to.
“Ilana would have known what she was risking. Devin’s past, his reputation, proceeds him. This was inevitable.”
“Perhaps, but that man, that is not the Devin I know.” Heavy tears fall as I try to come to terms with what I’ve just witnessed.
“Right now, it is. Don’t forget that.”
“Why are you here?” I ask. “Has the Queen sent you?”
Lissandra shakes her head. “No, Ezra and Rhain did.”
I grip hold of Lissandra’s arms. “They’re okay?”
“Yes, they are now. The Queen has them on duty. They cannot leave their posts until she allows it. That may be some time. For now, I can pass messages between you, but I can only do that when Devin is not around, or until you have succeeded in pulling him from the dark. I saw him enter the dungeons. I saw the blood on his face, so I came to check you were okay. I’m glad that you are. I’m glad that wasn’t you,” she says.
“But what of Ilana? What about her family. What about Devin when he realises what he has done?”
“I know this is hard for you, but this kind of violent death happens all the time. Perhaps I have become immune to it.” Lissandra sighs, looking thoughtful. “All I know is that Ilana was playing with fire, and this is the consequence. I am sorry for her, but you must not dwell on it. You are here for Devin, concentrate on that. We will deal with everything else later.”
“What of the Queen? She sent me here to die, she expects Devin to kill me.”
“Then I shall tell her that you’re dead.”
“But what of Devin? If he speaks with the Queen, he won’t lie to her.”
“You were in the room when this happened?” Lissandra asks.
“Yes, it was supposed to be me. He had his hands around my throat.”
“When the bloodlust takes over, it is impossible not to kill. But he didn’t kill you. Devin will not speak of you to the Queen, I am certain of it.”
“You think somewhere deep down he recognised me? Even in this strange body.”
“Yes, yes I do. It’s the only explanation.”
“What should I do now?”
“I’ll help you remove the body, tidy up. Then you wait until Devin returns. The sooner you can bind with him the better. I’ve brought you this,” Lissandra says, drawing a small knife from a pocket hidden within the pleats of her dress. It has an ivory handle and an extremely sharp blade. “Since his return he has spent all of his time punishing the prisoners. It won’t be long before he will need to rest. When he does you should use this.”
“Okay,” I say, taking the knife from her and pocketing it.
“I will dispose of the body.”
“She won’t be buried?”
Lissandra shakes her head. “No, she won’t be buried.”
Frankly, I don’t even want to think about what will happen to her. Lissandra bends down and scoops Ilana up as though she weighs nothing. Her heads flops back without the muscles to hold it upright. Bile rises in my throat once again. I look away quickly.
“I will come back to see you as soon as I can. Do not leave this room, we cannot risk Queen Adrielle seeing you.”
“Thank you for helping me,” I say.
“We’re helping each other. Be safe.” And with that she is gone.
Chapter Nine
Devin
Oblivion, that is what I need. Darkness, is what I crave now. I can still feel her life within my grasp, her pulse beneath my palm. I wanted to rip her throat out. She took what I needed from me and I hate her for it, and yet she lives.
I don’t understand why I am walking away. This need in me to kill is strong and yet my legs move as though my head has no control over them. My fist curls and I punch the stone wall. Bones break. I hear the loud snap, but the pain doesn’t register. Nothing does, nothing apart from her eyes and that strange voice inside my head. The one I know is there, but which I cannot hear.
I let out another loud roar. Killing the woman who tasted of violets is not enough to appease this darkness which rages within my chest. There is only one place now that can do that. The chambers and the desperate, hollow prisoners within.
I am the Queen’s Dark Knight. I am her Punisher.
That is what I know, that is what calls to me now. Not the indistinct voice inside my head.
I stop, leaning against the damp wall. Breathing has become difficult suddenly. I remember the strength of her gaze, the courage of her words. What was her name again?
“So why don’t you?” She had said those words without fear, without any concern for her life. How I’d wanted to kill her. And yet… those eyes. I can’t seem to get them out of my thoughts. A memory feathers against my mind. Something bright, familiar. The darkness parts a little for it. I see a rose wrapped around an arm…
“Devin. You’re needed.”
I push off the wall, bringing myself back into the present. The image of the rose fades from my mind. It is Abanthe, one of the other Punishers. He’s a wicked bastard. Like me, he thrives on the thrill of holding someone’s life in his hands, and yet that thought seems sickening suddenly.
“What is it?” I snap, not in the mood for chitchat or these alien feelings that seem determined to fuck me over.
“We have a new prisoner. A boy. Sebastian is his name. The Queen caught him snea
king into her apartments.”
“Wasn’t he her plaything?”
“Yes, but he is out of favour now. He has become obsessed with her. She wants him punished. I would’ve obliged, but the wolf-shifter is quite the challenge. I will return to him later. I must feed first.”
“Fine. Which cell is the boy in?”
“Two doors along from the wolf, cowering like a baby,” Abanthe sneers. “The boy is not one of us. All underlings are the same. Pathetic, weak-willed. None of them have any spirit…”
I ignore the rest of his tirade and make my way to the cell. As I move down the corridor where the cells are lined up side by side, I let the sound of the prisoners’ screams wash over me, fuelling the darkness that resides in my chest. Stopping at the cell that holds the wolf-shifter, I peer through the small barred opening on the door. Inside I can see Ether leaning over the battered body of the prisoner. If Abanthe does not return soon, then his job will be done. Ether brings death quicker than anyone I know. A few cells along is where the boy is being kept.
Pushing open the door, I see Sebastian snivelling in the corner.
“Well, if it isn’t Queen Adrielle’s plaything,” I say slowly, mustering up as much malice as possible. Normally it isn’t so difficult. I am not myself.
He looks up at me with wide, scared eyes. For the briefest of moments, I feel sorry for him, that silent presence in my head making itself known. I slam the door to the cell shut, pushing away any feelings of sympathy as I do.
I am the Queen’s Dark Knight. I am her Punisher.
“I hear Queen Adrielle has tired of you?”
“I don’t understand, she loves me.”
I stare incredulously at the shaking wretch of a boy. “Loves you? The Queen loves nobody.”
“No! That’s not true, she told me she did. She chose me. I am special to her.”
I throw my head back and roar with laughter. “You were a means to an end. Her plaything. The Queen chooses her lovers carefully, granted. Though it is not because of love. Never because of that. There would’ve been a reason. What does it matter now, she has replaced you. You are nothing to her.”
Sebastian stands from his crouched position, the chains around his wrist and ankles keeping him from escaping. He is tall, and well-built for a young underling. He glares at me, a sudden defiance appearing. “I don’t believe it. She loved me.”
“Is that why you snuck into her apartments? Were you hoping she’d take you back? Tell me, what did you find when you got there?”
Sebastian curls his fists, his face grim.
“Another lover, I take it?”
“Screw you,” he says, slamming his fists into the wall.
“You are here because she has no use for you anymore. I am here because you are to be punished. We can do this the easy way, or we can do it the hard way. Either way, we are not here to be friends.”
I am the Queen’s Dark Knight, I am her Punisher.
Sebastian looks at me long and hard. His eyes are brimming with tears, not because he is afraid of me but because it is apparent now the Queen never loved him at all.
“Do your worst. I’d rather die than live my life without her.”
“You’re going to wish you never said that,” I say, before rushing over and punching the boy square on the face. His head whips back from the force. I hear his nose snap. He does not cower, plead for mercy, or fight back as I rain down blows on him. He takes every punch, every kick. Even though he is born of the curse and can regenerate, he is still unable to heal as fast as I am able to injure.
Yet, still he takes it all. Bloody and bruised, he remains fearless. This underling is not weak or pathetic as Abanthe had suggested. This boy is determined, courageous… he reminds me of someone.
I pick up the long blade that is kept in the corner of the cell and raise it above me, ready to remove his head. He stares at me, bloody, bruised and unrecognisable. I don’t know whether it is his willingness to die for the one he loves, or the look of utter desolation on his face, but something stops me from doing what I must. Perhaps it is the echo of that voice in my head, the voice I am drawn to but cannot hear, but suddenly this is the last place I want to be.
All I see is the woman with the dark eyes, and as the blade clatters to the floor, I find myself running back to her.
Chapter Ten
Accacia
It takes me a good hour to clean up the blood and scrub the floor. I use my underskirt to soak up the majority of it, then my apron to wash down the stone. I’m still on my knees when Devin re-enters. He walks behind me, stopping for a moment as he glances down. He doesn’t say a word. The rage appears to have subsided, instead it has been replaced with something else. His dark eyes are still dark, yet now they look haunted.
I swallow the ache in my chest and stand.
“My Lord, I’ve cleaned as best I can.”
He nods curtly, his eyes dropping to the blood-soaked cloth in my hand.
“You are unclean…”
He is right, of course. I am covered in Ilana’s blood, it sits beneath my fingernails, covers my clothes and my skin. Her death was my fault and now it smothers me. On his face and clothes is her dried blood too. There is more fresh blood splattered across his clothes and face that hadn’t been there when he left earlier.
“Use the bathing room. I will wait,” he says brusquely.
“My Lord,” I say, walking into the bathroom. I am surprised by his suggestion, but I don’t question it. Staying alive is my priority. There is a stone bath in one corner and a large arched window facing it. I am surprised by this, but I guess Devin only needs to avoid this room in the daylight hours. Turning on the taps, I take a seat on the wide windowsill and look out at the landscape beyond. The castle sits perched high up on a craggy hill. Winding upwards is the pathway we climbed not more than a few hours ago. A forest surrounds the castle, and in the distance is the apparently empty glade where Nostra’s hamlet hides beneath his magic. If only Queen Adrielle knew what was sitting just under her nose. Further out I can see the Forbidden forest, the Light fields and the tiny building of Ezra’s home. An almost perfectly round silver moon hangs like a doubloon in the night sky. When it finally fills out, Nostra’s magic will have worn off and I will be back in my body once more.
“The bath is full.”
I snap my head around to find Devin looking at me. He leans over and turns the taps off.
“Apologies, my Lord, I was admiring the view,” I say, standing up.
We gaze at each other for a long moment. I am unsure what he expects of me.
“Remove your clothes,” he says, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on mine.
“My Lord…” I begin, uncertain.
“Remove your clothes,” he says once more. Firmer this time.
“I can’t do it on my own,” I say softly, showing him the fastenings on the back of my dress. I begin to tremble as he walks towards me.
“You fear me now,” he says. It is an observation rather than a question. He doesn’t expect an answer, but I give him one anyway.
“You said I would be next. So, I am afraid, yes.” And I am. Images of Ilana’s cold eyes and hollow throat flash before me. I step back from him.
“Yet you still remain here. Why is that?” he asks, stopping before me.
Devin? I reach out again, despite the fear I feel. Lissandra was right, he had been in a rage, and yet he hadn’t killed me. Perhaps our connection is still intact somehow. Devin, it’s me, Red.
His eyebrows crease together as he tips his head to the side. “Turn around,” he says.
I do as he asks, tensing when his fingers touch the bare skin of my back. He unhooks the fastenings, his fingers gentle, soft, and nothing like how he touched me not an hour ago. The dress slides to the floor, and I am left in an ill-fitting bra and underwear.
“Look at me,” he demands. There is an edge to his voice, something restrained, dark. I swivel on my feet, my eyes lifting to his. He stares at me,
as though he were looking into my very soul. Devin?
He grabs my wrist, pulling me towards him, and brings it close to his face.
“There’s that smell again…” he says, running his nose against my skin. He takes a deep breath, his face relaxing as he breathes out.
“Roses...”
My heart lurches in my chest. Is the Devin I know coming back to me? I wait, my own breathing ragged. Tears well in my eyes at the possibility he is beginning to remember. Devin?
Devin’s head snaps up sharply. He tugs painfully on my arm, twisting it one way then the next. He drops it, grabs my other arm and does the same before dropping it in disgust.
“Get clean,” he says, then storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
I know what he was looking for, my rose tattoo. That tells me two things: one, that he must be remembering and two, I am a stranger to him in this body that isn’t mine.
I wash quickly, feeling vulnerable naked, yet I am determined nonetheless. Devin is coming back to me, I know it. There is no other explanation for his behaviour. Ilana is gone, she cannot bring him any more poisonous blood. Like drug addicts, I wonder whether Devin will go into withdrawal.
Stepping out of the bath, I reach for a large cloth to dry myself. It isn’t particularly good at getting me dry but there is nothing else. No such things as towels in Ever Vale. Folded neatly on top of a cabinet that is tucked away in the corner of the room are a pair of slacks and a loose top, much like Devin wore when he exited the bathroom earlier on. I pull them on quickly, feeling marginally better now that I am dressed.
When I open the door, Devin is pacing up and down, talking to himself. I watch him for a moment. He is frantic, crazed almost. His eyes are wild. He stops when I step into the room.
“My Lord?” I begin.
Devin pulls at his shirt. “This blood, it reeks,” he says, pulling the shirt over his head and chucking across the room.
“Perhaps you should take that bath now?” I say gently.
His wild eyes meet mine. “There’s something odd about you. Your eyes. I don’t know what it is.”