by Bea Paige
“My Lord,” I begin slowly, “are you feeling okay?” I walk hesitantly towards him. It’s a stupid question, of course he isn’t feeling okay. He isn’t himself.
“Who are you? What is your name?” He looks at me warily.
“My name is Dawn,” I say after a beat.
He shakes his head. “You forget I am of Clan Lux, I can hear your heart beating with the lie. So, I will ask you this question one more time. What is your name?”
I know that this can go one of two ways. I could tell him the truth now in the hope that there is enough of him left to believe me, or I can persist in the lie and hope he doesn’t kill me for it.
“Tell me your name,” he says. His whole body is shaking. There is a light sheen of sweat covering his skin. Am I right? Is he having some kind of withdrawal? I want to reach out to him, hold him, comfort him, but we are on a knife edge and I can’t trust that what I do will be the right thing.
“My Lord, you are unwell,” I say, concern overriding common sense.
“LIGHTS DAMN IT. TELL ME YOUR NAME.”
I flinch. “Red, my name is Red,” I say eventually, my voice cracking over the words.
Devin stiffens, his eyes locking with mine. Then, just like a tree being felled, he falls to the floor, out cold.
Chapter Eleven
Devin
Scattered images blur my thoughts. A red rose, its soft, velvety leaves dropping slowly. Why do I feel so sad when they fall?
A woman pressed between my brothers and me. Music pounds a sensual rhythm. The pad of my thumb against blood red lips, they are so soft, sensual. I want to kiss them.
Long dark hair soft against a bare back. The skin porcelain, unmarked, beautiful.
A red dress, the material silky. I want to touch it, touch the woman wearing it.
Roses, so many roses. They remind me of her. Their perfume is her scent.
Floating lanterns, their light giving a soft red glow. My heart fills with happiness, with passion, desire, love…
Red.
BLOOD… Lots and lots of blood. So much blood.
A woman’s body pressed beneath mine. Her moans ring in my ears, but they are not the sounds I wish to hear. I gorge on her blood, it tastes sweet, so sweet. It tastes of violets, and something else. Something wrong, evil. Yet, I cannot stop. I take it all, I drink what is offered.
A vial filled with more of what I want, what I need. I must have it. The taste is exquisite. A feeling of ecstasy overwhelms me.
Then darkness. Bleak, obsidian darkness follows. I feel no pain, no joy, nothing. There is nothing. I am lost.
Screams of pain. Broken limbs, severed heads. Cries of desperation. Pleading, begging me not to kill. I want to stop, but I can’t. The darkness has me within its grasp and I am not strong enough. I cannot fight back. So the darkness takes over me again. I am lost once more.
Bleeding fists. A boy’s face broken beneath my hands. My hands have caused his pain. He talks of love and I laugh at his stupidity. His eyes are defiant…
They remind me of her. The dark brown of her stare. Those eyes, I want to lose myself in them. I am drawn to them. To the promise they give. To the courage they show and to the soul that lies beyond.
Soul… soulmate… A voice inside my head. A voice pleading with me.
“Devin, please wake up.”
I want to, how I want to, but the darkness grabs me again and I am drowning once more.
Chapter Twelve
Accacia
Holding the knife Lissandra gave me I kneel beside Devin. He has been out cold for several hours. Long enough for the sun to brighten upon a new day. This may be my only chance to perform the Binding, to get Devin back. I don’t know if it will work, given his blood is still running with the poison, but I must try.
I take the blade and run it across my palm, feeling strangely detached as I watch the skin that is not my own part and the blood dribble out. Then I take Devin’s hand in mine and slice quickly. He doesn’t even stir. Pressing my bloodied hand against his, I recite the words needed to perform the Binding and wait.
Another couple of hours pass by agonisingly slowly. I can see a slant of bright sunlight spill through the bathroom door. I am only too aware that time is running out.
I’ve made him as comfortable as possible. His head rests on a pillow from the daybed and his body is covered with a velvet throw. There is no blood left on his face or hand since I’ve cleaned them both. The wound on his hand has healed, as has mine. Even in this strange body I still have the gifts I was cursed with. I sit by his side, waiting, hoping he’ll wake up, that when he does he will recognise me. He murmurs in his sleep, rambling words that make no sense to me, except one.
Red.
He calls for me. Repeatedly.
“Devin, please wake up.”
He stirs suddenly, a whimper escaping his lips.
Then his eyes snap open.
“Devin,” I say, breathing a sigh of relief. He sits up quickly, and immediately his teeth drop. A low hiss escapes his lips. I pull back, my hands dropping from his chest. His eyes are still a dark, fathomless black.
“Get away from me.” He scoots back on his arse, his feet peddling across the floor. He backs up against the daybed. “Don’t come near me.” He is shaking violently; his whole body is slick with sweat, the curls of his dark hair sticking against his forehead and neck.
“Let me help you,” I say, echoing the words I had once uttered to Ezra in the Forbidden forest.
Devin?
“No, stay away,” he growls. He draws his knees up to his chest, pressing his forehead against them. He places his arms over his head, shutting me out.
I straighten up and take a step towards him, the floor cold against the soles of my feet. “I can help you, if you’ll let me.”
He lifts his head sharply. “Stay away from me,” he bites out, holding his palm up to stop me. His eyes flick from my face to the spot where Ilana had been earlier, to the dark stain of her blood on the stone floor.
“If you take one more step, you will end up like her.” He clamps his mouth shut, the sharp points of his teeth cutting into his lips. He doesn’t even wince as blood slides down his chin.
Devin, can you hear me?
“Stop it, stop it, stop it,” he says, shaking his head.
“Can you hear me?” I ask softly, taking another step toward him.
Devin, look at me. I am here. It’s me, Red.
He stills. The slow trail of his gaze moves from my feet up to my head.
“Red?”
“Yes, that’s right,” I whisper. “It’s me. Do you remember?” I take another step forward, my heart hopeful. He stands abruptly and rushes forward, taking me by the shoulders. I am lifted off my feet, my arms trapped by my side.
“I told you not to come close. I warned you. Why do you have to push me?”
Devin has my back pressed up against the cold stone. I am in the exact same spot as Ilana was earlier, right before he ripped her throat out. His nails dig into my skin, his mouth is barely an inch away from mine. He doesn’t mean to kiss me. No. There is hunger in his eyes. A desolate, absolute bleakness. I feel my heart break in two. It’s too late, the darkness has hold of him. I see it. I see it burning beneath his skin, consuming the man I love. My eyes brim with tears. I feel them fall down my cheeks, hot and wet.
“You don’t have to do this. Fight back.”
Devin lowers me to the floor slowly, his grip still painful.
“Goddamn it, Devin. Fight back.”
“I am the Queen’s Dark Knight, I am her Punisher.” He says the words as though they should mean something, as though he is trying to figure out who, what, he is.
“You are not,” I say fiercely. “You are Devin. You are mine and I am yours.”
He lets go of my shoulders, his hands dropping limply by his side. I reach up to him. My hands are shaking.
Red?
Devin? My love, can you hear me?
; Red?
Devin frowns, confusion crossing his features. He steps back from me, shaking his head. “No, you are not her.”
“Wait!” I grab his hand and place it on the side of my face. “Look at me.”
He does.
“It’s me, Red.”
He pulls his hand away roughly. “I don’t know who that is. I don’t know who you are.” I see something leach into the white of his eyes, a strange green hue. The poison is still in his system. The Binding hasn’t worked, it isn’t strong enough to break the spell he’s under.
“Devin, wait.” But before I can stop him he has sprinted into his bedroom and slammed the door, locking it. A loud crash follows a hoarse cry.
Devin, open the door. I follow him, pounding my fists against the wood.
He doesn’t answer me. Instead, the door shudders as something heavy crashes against it.
I can feel his rage, his anger, the disgust he has for himself, through our connection.
I am a beast.
Crash.
I held their lives in my hand.
Crash.
I ripped out her throat.
Crash.
I beat them, I broke them. They begged me to stop.
Crash.
The salt of their tears.
Crash.
The cries of their pain.
Crash.
I savoured it all. I am the Queen’s Dark Knight, I am her Punisher.
Devin, stop it, I repeat, banging my fist against the door, but it falls on deaf ears. He doesn’t hear me, despite me hearing him. The Binding has only worked one way. I’ve lost him.
There is no respite, no release. He continues like this for hours. Time slips by until day crawls into night once again. My hands begin to shake from lack of sleep and food. Pushing off against the door I drag my tired body to the daybed, grateful for a place to rest. I tell myself that I’ll only close my eyes for a few short minutes.
Chapter Thirteen
Devin
When I leave my bedroom the woman with the curly hair and dark eyes is gone, replaced instead with someone completely different. Perhaps she finally decided to leave, and this woman is my next offering.
I step closer to the uninvited visitor, wondering why she is sleeping on my daybed. Does she not know who I am? What I am capable of? Perhaps she has been drugged. Her dark brows are drawn together as she moves in her sleep, the long curtain of her hair falls over her back revealing an expanse of smooth, white skin. Bright red lips part over a whispered word. “Devin,” she breathes.
One word enters my thoughts.
Red.
Flashes of a woman, not dissimilar to this one, enter my head. She is familiar to me. I take another step towards the sleeping beauty. The smell of roses hits me once again. It is so powerful, I am rendered immobile by it for a moment.
Red… I know that word. No, not a word, a name.
Just at the edge of my thoughts a light shines. It is merely a flicker, but I am drawn to it. I take another step forward and find myself kneeling by the woman.
Her neck is bared to me, the stretch of skin perfectly smooth. Her heartbeat pulses beneath her skin. I press my finger against it. Thump, thump, thump. It beats in time with mine.
Red? The light brightens once more, the flicker turning into a flame.
My skin begins to burn, my hands shake, a sheen of sweat covers my skin. The flame splutters, its light dimming until it is gone.
A darkness descends.
I feel my teeth lower, the need to bite her overwhelming. Just one taste.
Lowering my head, I catch the whiff of her perfume once again. I scrape the tips of my teeth against her skin. She moans softly but remains asleep.
“Come back to me,” she murmurs, and somehow it as though she is talking to me. The darkness coils in on itself once more, the flame igniting. I feel as though I am two separate people with no control over my actions. Who is this woman? Why does she seem so familiar? Why does she smell like the dark-eyed, curly-haired woman of before?
I stand abruptly, backing away from her.
“Good, you’re here,” a gruff voice says from behind. It is Abanthe. His gaze falls to the woman asleep on my daybed. I see the interest alight in his eyes. He steps into my room.
“Who’s that?” he asks, his teeth dropping down from his gums. His reaction angers me.
She is mine.
I don’t know where that thought comes from. This isn’t just a Clan Lux thing, all of us are proprietorial over our food, this is something more than mere ownership.
“What do you want?” I say, stepping in front of the sleeping woman.
“Have you forgotten what is happening later this night?”
“What?” I snap.
“Queen Adrielle’s Jubilee celebration.” He raises an eyebrow at me, and I find I have the sudden urge to smack the look of incredulity off his face.
“She wants to speak with you. Now,” he says, noticing the look I give the sleeping woman. “You’ll have plenty of time for fun later. We all shall. Queen Adrielle has chosen a most auspicious night to celebrate. It is the Bloodletting, after all. I have heard there will be quite a feast laid out for us.”
There is no other option but to follow him. Queen Adrielle expects my attendance. I am her Dark Knight, after all.
“After you,” I say, striding towards Abanthe, corralling him out of the door. There’s no way I’m letting him stay behind with that woman. She’s mine.
* * *
Abanthe walks with me to Queen Adrielle’s apartments. I am no fool, his insistence in accompanying me isn’t happening out of the kindness of his heart. This isn’t an ordinary visit to the Queen. I should be concerned, but it isn’t Queen Adrielle that scares me the most. No, the growing fear I feel is somehow wrapped up with the strange woman lying asleep in my apartment.
We enter the outer rooms of Queen Adrielle’s apartment. Her chambermaid, the pretty girl with the grey eyes, is placing food in front of the Queen as we enter. She sits at her dining table, surrounded by the finest foods that Ever Vale is able to produce. It is excessive, but that is the Queen all over.
“There you are. Sit, Devin, we need to have a discussion, you and I.”
“My Queen?”
“Sit!” she says sharply.
I pull out a chair and take a seat.
“You can wait outside,” she says to Abanthe. The maid starts to follow him, but the Queen holds her hand up. “You, Lissandra, can stay,” she says.
“Yes, my Queen.”
“Now that Abanthe has left us, I want to know the reason why you ignored my orders.”
“Ignored your orders? My Queen, I am your Punisher, your Dark Knight. I do all that you ask,” I say carefully. Yet something inside tells me that isn’t quite the truth.
“Not this time, it would seem.” She places a gold-plated fork on the plate in front of her. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Lissandra watching our conversation with interest.
“Excuse me, my Queen, but I am uncertain as to what you are referring to.”
“Sebastian. I told you to kill him.” She narrows her eyes at me. Lissandra gasps. The Queen hears her reaction, and whilst she does not look at her, a cruel smile lifts the corner of her mouth. “Yet he remains alive. Why is that?”
The boy in the chambers? I press my fingers against my forehead, trying to remember what happened. The memory is blurred, indistinct. I look at Lissandra, there are tears brimming in her pale grey eyes. I watch one slide down her cheek and in a sudden flash or recollection I see the boy’s broken and bloody body standing in front of me and hear the clatter of the sword as I drop it. I didn’t kill him. I should have, but I didn’t. Why didn’t I?
“My Queen,” I begin, trying to stall for some time. “I can explain.”
“I am listening. So too is Lissandra. Sebastian is her little friend.” She chuckles as if this is one big joke. I suppose it is to her, she who rules over us all.
“I was called back to my apartment. A woman was brought to me…” It is not the exact truth, but it isn’t a lie either.
“My Queen, what do you intend to do with Sebastian,” Lissandra cuts in.
Queen Adrielle slowly turns to face her. “You mean to interrupt our conversation? Who asked you to join in? Have you forgotten your place, child?”
For a moment Lissandra holds the Queen’s gaze. The hate is obvious. The Queen must see it, and yet she does nothing. I have seen men killed for less. “I apologise, my Queen,” she says eventually.
“Ah yes, my gift to you. Your brothers seemed quite enamoured with the common woman. Though I fail to see the attraction myself. Lissandra told me you killed her, practically tore her head from her body.”
Lissandra makes no move to correct the Queen, but there is something in her gaze that tells me not to deny what she is saying. The memory of that incident is blurred. I did kill a woman, but I am not sure it is the person Queen Adrielle is referring to.
“I gorged on her blood, then I ripped out her throat with my teeth,” I say.
Queen Adrielle claps her hands together in delight. “How wonderful,” she says as she picks up a strawberry and takes a bite. She chews thoughtfully, then lifts her hand, beckoning Lissandra to her side.
“My Queen, what can I assist you with? More wine?”
Queen Adrielle shakes her head. “No. I shall need to get ready shortly. Ask Abanthe to come back in, but give us five minutes alone.”
“Of course, my Queen.”
Lissandra leaves us, shutting the door behind her. The Queen stands and walks around the table towards me. She is wearing just a thin, see-through dress, but although I appreciate her beauty it does not affect me. I have no desire to touch her. She stops in front of me and perches on the table, her dress sliding open over her thigh. She lifts her leg and rests her foot between my parted legs, then leans down and places her long fingers against my cheek. Her touch makes me want to withdraw, but I am not stupid enough to do that. A strange feeling warms my cheek where she presses.